Encouragement – Dr. Kirk Lewis Books

Choose Life

Focal Passage: Deuteronomy 30:19-20 and Romans 12:1-2

Baseball entered my bloodstream during the 1961 World Series when the New York Yankees defeated the Cincinnati Reds in five games. The New York dynasty bothered my Dad. He detested the Yankees, and, quite naturally, so did I.

While we grudgingly accepted the greatness of Mickey Mantle and Whitey Ford, both of us had a soft spot for Yogi Berra. Catchers in the Major Leagues are generally among the more intelligent players on the team. Berra sounded like the exception.

“You can observe a lot just by watching.”

“It’s like deja vu all over again.”

Smart in practical, real-world ways, especially about baseball, teamwork, and reading situations quickly, Berra built a reputation for goofy sayings that made him a media darling.

I thought of one of my favorite Yogi quotes this week as I was doing my Bible study. He once said, “When you come to the fork in the road, take it.”

Psychologists say that people make as many as 35,000 decisions or choices of one kind or another every, single day. Rice Krispies or Cheerios? Sensodyne or Crest? Paper clips or staples?

Out of the millions of choices made over our lifetimes, those same psychologists say we make only a few hundred life-altering decisions. Buy or Rent? This job or that one? “I do” or I don’t?

Back in my college days, I asked a friend to tell me whom I should ask out on a date. He suggested one of two girls we knew who happened to be roommates. When I asked him which one, he said, “Just call. Ask the one who answers the phone.” The girl who answered the phone on that February night in 1973 has been my wife for over 50 years now.

Thankfully, sometimes God guides those all-important choices for us.

I might be wrong, but on most days, I’m not sure God cares if I go with the paper clips or staples. In the grand scheme of his plan for my life he’s probably less concerned about whether I use a brand recommended by dentists for sensitive teeth or a brand where I can cheerfully report, “Look, Ma! No cavities.”

There are, however, many choices we face that do matter in God’s will for our lives. Those are the ones to which we must pay attention. There is one choice more important than any other.

The Hebrew people didn’t always make the right choice. No one knew this better than Moses. He has seen Israel long for captivity in Egypt again after God had set them free. He had heard them grumble when they wanted something other than the manna God provided to sustain them in the desert. He stared in disbelief at a golden calf they created when they grew tired of waiting on God.

Moses watched them stand at the point of deliverance in Kadesh Barnea ready to enter the promised land only to back away in fear. Moses witnessed the death of an entire generation in the wilderness because of the choices they made.

This godly leader felt the consequences of poor decisions as he stood a second time on the precipice of the promised land, knowing he would not be allowed to enter because of his own disobedience.

Moses understood that life is full of consequential choices. After all of that history—after rebellion, regret, judgment, and mercy—Moses gathered this new generation of Israelites on the banks of the Jordan telling them they had a choice to make.

Read what he said.

This day I call on heaven and earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now, choose life… (Deuteronomy 30:19)

When Moses urges them to “choose life,” it is not a poetic flourish. He pleads with a people who have repeatedly chosen a path of destruction, even when another more blessed option was clearly offered.

At first glance it seems a simple choice. Who among us, even today, would not choose life and blessing over death and curses? Most scholars say that’s not really the choice we’re called to make. Life and blessing or death and curses are the results of what we choose.

Moses goes on to explain to the Hebrew people and to us what it looks like to choose life. Read further in the passage.

Choose life…that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life… (Deuteronomy 30:20)

Notice that God does not force the outcome. He invites a response.

Choose life.

The Hebrew word for choose used in this passage means “to select or decide after careful consideration. It is not a casual choice, nor is it an emotional one. It is intentional, suggesting loyal commitment. It is the same word used in covenant language when God “chooses” Israel.

Moses tells the people essentially, “Choose God the way God has chosen you.”

Interestingly, according to one commentary, the Hebrew word translated “life” in this passage is plural. It conveys the idea of life to its fullest; life in every dimension. Spiritual. Relational. Emotional. It mirrors the language of Jesus’ desire when he calls us to experience “abundant life.” Life as it was meant to be in God’s creation.

The people of Israel hear Moses tell them to carefully and deliberately commit to a path that leads to a true, full, God-centered life.

Moses doesn’t stop there. He tells them how to do it. It’s less about 10 commandments etched in stone and more about their relationship to God. Did you see it?

To love him.

To listen to his voice.

To hold fast to him.

There is a passage in Genesis where God declares, “Jacob I loved; Esau I hated.” The Hebrew words for love and hate are not about emotion. They are about choice. God chose Jacob as the one who would receive God’s promises. He did not choose Esau.

We are to choose God. To give him our devotion. Our adoration. Our loyalty. Our worship. Our trust. That’s what it means to love God.

We are to go past hearing God’s voice and deeply listening to his words. God stands ready to teach and guide those who chose him. His word is true and never fails. It is, as the Psalmist says, a “light unto my feet,” intended to guide our daily walk, even when we are surrounded by darkness. We are to listen to his voice.

As we live in relationship with God, we are to hold fast to him. The verb tense of the word suggests that holding on to God is not something done only once or only in difficult times. It means literally to keep on clinging to God. Hold on tightly. Don’t ever let go.

Think about that. Moses said, choose life by loving God, listening to his voice and clinging to him. The reason, he added, is simple. God is life. See it? Choose life. God is life. Therefore, choose God.

For a people about to enter a land where God was neither known nor worshipped, the choice Moses laid out was the only choice that would bring them the life God promised.

Every day, in a thousand small and large ways, you and I stand at Yogi’s fork in the road. Now, we have a choice between good or bad. Good or better. Better or best. Life or death. Blessing or curses.

When you get right down to it, we face the same choice the Hebrew people made long ago.

Will I love and trust God or will I depend on myself?

Will I listen to the voice of God and the whispers of his Holy Spirit or will I ignore what I hear?

Will I cling to Christ despite the circumstances or will I let myself drift away?

The good news is that God not only gives the command to choose—He gives the desire behind it. “Choose life” is not harsh; it is deeply compassionate and reveals the heart of God. Choose life is not an ultimatum, it is his expressed desire for all of us. It is as if God is saying, “This is the path that leads to joy, peace, and purpose. Walk in it, please! Come to me!”

It’s not just an Old Testament concept. Paul urged the Christian believers in Rome to choose life by offering themselves to God.

Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer yourselves as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer 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)

In other words, give yourself to God in every way. Choose life.

Today, life will be set before you and I again and again. Not in one dramatic moment, but in a hundred quiet decisions…a hundred forks in the road.

Choose to love Him.

Choose to listen.

Choose to hold fast.

Because He is life.

Thinking Points

What choices have I made recently that indicate what I truly value and trust?

Where am I tempted to choose comfort, familiarity, or self reliance instead of choosing God?

What would it look like today for me to love God intentionally — with loyalty, devotion, and commitment?

How well am I listening for God’s voice rather than merely hearing His words?

In what circumstances do I need to cling to God more tightly instead of drifting or loosening my grip?

Love Matters

Focal Passages: Psalm 19:1-2, Psalm 8:1-4 and Mark 12:30

Theology is not always deep, but it is always rich in memory and meaning. Memory and meaning combined over the last few weeks to take me back over five decades.

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth…” (Genesis 1:1)

As a 15-year-old high school student, with the ambition, but probably not the aptitude, to be an astronaut, I sat on the floor of my aunt and uncle’s house in McGregor, Texas, watching a grainy telecast from the tiny Apollo 8 capsule as it orbited the moon on Christmas Eve.

Three men, Frank Borman, James Lovell and Bill Anders, were doing what no one had done before. They were orbiting the moon.

On the fourth orbit, just as they emerged from the far side of moon, Borman began reading the Genesis creation story. I’ll admit now what I tried to hide then. I blinked back tears welling up in my eyes.

There was certainly a sense of awe and pride as a young American watching the impossible unfold before my eyes. However, hearing those words reflecting on God’s handiwork and the awe-inspiring scene unfolding out the windows of that spacecraft affected me in ways I had not imagined possible.

As I watched the moon slide by with our earth so small in the background, I thought about God setting all of the universe in motion. It was as if God was saying, “See, I made all of this for mankind to gaze at and explore. Be good stewards of what I created for you. Live in it and enjoy the works my hands have made.”

God saw all that he had made and it was very good. (Genesis 1:31)

Very good, indeed.

Those Genesis verses came alive and real on that December day in 1968. It matters so little how God created all the beauty and wonder of the universe. That he created it all…that’s enough for me. It was enough on that Christmas Eve long ago. It was enough just days ago.

Today, I have a new memory, filled with meaning that has been refreshed and renewed.

I sat in my own living room last week inspired and in awe again of manned spaceflight. I watched another mind-boggling mission around the moon unfold…this time on an Easter Sunday.

Even one with little interest in the space program must appreciate the courage and professionalism of astronauts Reid Wiseman, Victor Glover, Christina Koch and Jeremy Hansen. I can only imagine the technical skills of all those engineers and scientists behind the effort. Their God-given talents combined to enable an almost flawless mission.

The videos and photographic images sent to earth from crew aboard Artemis II were stunning in detail, context and stark beauty. I found myself studying the images again, with the same sense of wonder I did in 1968. I listened to the conversations between the astronauts and mission-control as they let their enthusiasm get the better of their professionalism. You could hear the joy and amazement in their voices.

I could not look on the scenes unfolding on television without the words from Apollo 8 echoing in my heart.

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth…

Victor Glover, pilot of the Artemis II mission, is a man unashamed of his faith. He is a U. S. Navy Captain and NASA astronaut who integrates his faith seamlessly into his work while doing things I only dreamed of doing.

In a recent interview, Glover said, “My career is fed by my faith. Anytime I do something that’s pretty risky, I pray. Before I fly, every time I fly. Definitely when I go sit on top of a rocket ship.”

Glover said that working at NASA has opened doors to talk about creation and faith. Certainly, flying around the moon gave him an unique perspective of God’s creation. In a broadcast from Artemis II as they approached the moon, Glover used that moment to reflect on what it meant to look at both the moon and earth suspended in the blackness of space.

“When I read the Bible, I think of this amazing place that we have—this ‘spaceship called Earth’—that was created to give us a place to live.” He added, “In all of this emptiness, you have this oasis, this beautiful place that we get to exist together.”

Like I did back in 1968, I listened to those heartfelt words, this time with more mature tears in my eyes. I could not help but think of words written by the Psalmist so very long ago.

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day, they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge. (Psalm 19:1-2)

The writer seems to be telling us the more we study God’s universe, the more we see his hand in it. The more we see up close all he created, the more we will learn about him. It’s a thought echoed by the Apostle Paul in his letter to the Christians in Rome.

For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse. (Romans 1:20)

God’s fingerprints are present in all creation, teaching us about his handiwork. That truth is readily seen by those with a heart open to his presence.

The psalmist sensed a richer purpose for creation. It’s not just about the glory of creation. There is purpose behind it.

Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory in the heavens…When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them? (Psalm 8:1, 3-4)

That’s a heady thought, isn’t it?

God, the creator, is mindful of all humanity.

The phrase in Hebrew suggests more than just thinking about us occasionally. It carries a sense of active remembrance. Paying attention with intent. Caring enough to intervene. In other words, the creator of the universe intentionally keeps you and me in his thoughts in ways that actively demonstrate his love and care for us.

I should celebrate and stand in awe of the beauty and wonder of creation, but that’s not really the point. God pulled creation together to give us a place to live together in relationship to him and to each other because God cares. God loves us.

Glover spoke more about that when he returned to earth. Reflecting on the success of the mission and all he and this crew had seen, Glover said. “As we continue to unlock the mystery of the cosmos, I’d like to remind everyone that love matters.”

He’s so right. As serene as our world seems from space, it is a chaotic place, filled with too much division and hate. It is a world that often fails to see the God who created all this; the God who loves us so much that he sent his son as the atoning sacrifice for your sins and mine.

Loving God and loving one another does matter.

In response to a challenge from an inquisitive Pharisee, Jesus affirmed God’s greatest commandments.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself. There are not greater commandments than these. (Mark 12:30)

I think that’s one of the things I took away as the wonders of the universe on display during the Artemis mission. I see that sliver of “blue marble” hanging in space and realize, as Glover said, “Love matters.”

As I said from the start. It’s not the deepest theology, but it may indeed be the richest

Now, it’s just up to you and me to live like love matters.

If we can do that, then I think we can hear God say, “It’s very good!”

Thinking Points

When have I last paused long enough to let creation stir awe in me, and what did that moment reveal about God’s character?

In what ways am I living as a steward of God’s creation — not just the physical world, but the people He has placed around me?

How does knowing that the Creator of the universe is mindful of me reshape the way I see my worth, my worries, and my daily life?

If Jesus says that loving God and loving others are the greatest commandments, what would it look like for me to live this week as if “love matters”?

Walk and Be Blameless

Focal Passage: Genesis 17:1

It was one of those Facebook posts you see all the time. Boldface words on a solid yellow background. The post was a single passage of scripture from Genesis. I don’t remember who posted it originally. I only saw the post that one time, but for some reason, the passage kept skipping through my mind like a smooth stone flung across a calm lake.

When Abram was 99 years old, God appeared to him and said, “I am God Almighty; walk before me and be blameless.” (Genesis 17:1)

It is a verse that gets lost in the personal, covenant language that follows as God promises a new relationship with Abram and his people. Like any covenant or promise, it lays out the responsibilities of both parties. God explains in the following verses what he will do. Yet this first verse captures in a nutshell what God expects of Abram.

I heard it all week every time the stone skipped over that water. I am God Almighty. (Skip) Walk before me. (Skip) Be blameless. (Skip)

The words pushed me to slow down and look more carefully at the language itself. The more I looked at the verse the deeper and richer it became. Let me show you what I mean.

The Hebrew word for walk used in the passage is halakh. It’s not like God is telling Abram, “March! Get moving!” Rather, halakh, in one sense, speaks of wandering. Not walking in a straight line. Roaming back and forth.

If that sounds like the aimless meandering of someone who doesn’t know where they’re going, it’s not. It suggests the idea of consistent, purposeful movement. In other words, make a habit of… Develop a pattern of life…

When God tells Abram to walk, he’s saying, “As you go about your life…” or “Wherever life takes you…” “In everything you do, no matter where you are…” For one whose life took more than one unexpected turn, that resonates with me. “In the daily routine of life…”

This idea of walking doesn’t end with Abram. The New Testament picks it up and deepens it. Our walk becomes one of the primary ways Paul and John describe our life in Christ.

Paul writes in Ephesians:

I urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling you have received. (Ephesians 4:1)

Our walk, according to Paul, is our daily conduct. Our moral direction. It is all about aligning our relationship with Christ with everything we do. Paul encouraged the followers of Christ in the Ephesian church to make sure their life reflected the life and love of Jesus everywhere they went and in all they did.

John also used walk to describe authentic faith.

If we say we have fellowship with him and yet walk in darkness, we lie and do not live by the truth…but if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another… (I John 1:6-7)

What does that walk look like? Genesis 17 offers another word to guide us. Be Blameless. It’s another skip of that rock we’ve tossed across the pond.

The Hebrew word of blameless is tamim. We can relax a bit because it doesn’t mean sinless or morally perfect. Thank goodness!

Tamim means complete. Whole. Undivided. Think faithful, not flawless. David was called a “man after God’s own heart,” yet he sinned. Even so, he was tamim. A man with undivided loyalty to God.

God tells Abram so we can also hear him. “Live your life consistently with an undivided heart, whole and complete. Don’t withhold any part of your life from me. Give me your all. Live it all before me.”

Pause with me here.

Have you ever studied a passage of scripture, thinking you had it nailed down tightly only to have the nagging sense that you were missing something important? That was me last night. Walk. Be blameless. What was I missing?

Here’s what I noticed. God tells Abram to walk or live out his life, but he says walk before me. The phrase before me expresses a nuance I had not considered. The most literal translation from Hebrew translates before me as before my face.

Before whose face?

I am God Almighty. Walk before me…

At first glance in feels like a foreboding call to obedience because God always has his eye on us, just waiting for us to trip up so he can punish us.

I was a good kid, I think. If I’m honest, I was probably better when I knew my parents were watching. That’s human nature, I suppose, but I just don’t think that’s what God is saying here. It makes obedience a fear response. I’ll walk the straight and narrow because I don’t want to get in trouble.

When you look deeper, God Almighty is calling Abram into a covenant relationship with him. A call to personal relationship. God tells Abram wherever you go in life, whatever you do, do it in my presence. “Be with me. Let me be with you.”

There it is. That’s the amazing thing I missed at first glance. God Almighty wants a personal relationship with me. He wants to walk with me wherever I go. I find that far more comforting than uncomfortable.

Jesus made a similar connection in his last intimate message to his disciples before his arrest and crucifixion

Remain in me and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit. Apart from me, you can do nothing. (John 15:4-5)

Can you see how this ties so well to Genesis 17? God tells Abram to walk before him. Jesus tells us to remain or abide in him. To dwell in his presence. To live in him. It’s relational. It’s mutual. It’s Jesus’ way of saying live your life continuously and consistently in the presence of God.

Doing so, allows me to not only be in fellowship with God and others, but to bear fruit…to reflect the life of Christ so others can catch a glimpse of who he is and what he promises.

I am God Almighty.

Walk.

Before me.

Be Blameless.

It is a call to live a Christ-like life in every area of life wherever that life takes us. And always in the strength of our God Almighty.

Not perfect. Just present.

Not flawless. Just faithful.

Not alone. Just alongside.

Maybe that’s where this new covenant takes root. Not in the grand spiritual moments, but in our daily walks with undivided hearts in relationship with an almighty God who delights in walking with us.

Maybe that’s why I still keep hearing it, like a stone skipping across the water again and again and again.

Thinking Points

When you hear God’s words, “Walk before me,” do you experience them more as an invitation to a relationship or as a call to performance? Why?

What areas of your life you tend to keep compartmentalized—places where your heart may not feel completely “undivided” before God?

How does understanding blameless as “whole” or “complete” change the way you think about faithfulness?

What might it look like for you this week to live more consciously before God’s face—reveling in His presence rather than fearful of His scrutiny?

Life After Birth

Focal Passage: John 3:1-17

Every time I pull into my drive way and look at the roof above my garage, I see the flashing that has come loose. The glue and nails that once held it in place have weakened and broken free. The sealant intended to keep water from leaking into the frame of the house has visible gaps.

It wouldn’t be hard to fix if it were within easier reach of my 12-foot ladder and my 72-year-old body. Just when I think I can make that repair, I look again at the pitch of that roof and decide that discretion is the better part of valor. Back goes the ladder on its hooks.

I drove into the driveway this week, the flashing laughing again at my cowardice. I had enough. I picked up my phone and called Willie. Willie has done a fair amount of restoration work in my neighborhood. My neighbors tell me his competency comes at a reasonable price.

Every home, regardless of how well it was originally built, will need restoration after a time. This week, weather permitting, Willie will come out and restore the broken pieces of my house. I’ll be grateful.

Restoration.

It sort of became the theme of my thoughts this week. I read a snippet from a book I have in my library called Dancing at My Funeral, written by Maxie Dunnam back in 1973. I bought the book during my sophomore year at Texas Tech University with the discount I got for working part-time as a clerk at the Baptist Bookstore in Lubbock.

The book is Dunnam’s reflection upon the choices that shaped his life…some for the good and some, well, no so much. Dunnam looked back at his life with the freedom of grace that God gave him, finding he could “dance at the funeral of the past that haunted him.”

He comes out of that life reflection able to rejoice because he understands that the Bible is all about restoration. It is a theme that courses through the heart of all scripture. Cover to cover. From “In the beginning” to John’s last “Amen,..” and everything in between.

Dunnam wrote, “All the years since my youth I had been demanding a chance to start over. But, that’s impossible! And unimportant. The fact that you can’t start over is only part of the essential truth. The encouraging and redeeming part is that you don’t need to start over. The need is to start today…right now…living the new life God offers.

“The past,” said Dunnam, “can’t be blotted out, but we don’t have to be shackled by it. And, that is the essence of the gospel.”

Restoration.

You may remember our friend Nicodemus. He’s the Pharisee who first got to hear Jesus say, “For God so loved the world…” Nicodemus heard Jesus teach and preach. His colleagues in the priesthood felt threatened by Jesus’ surprising teachings and his rising popularity. Nicodemus, on the other hand, felt his carefully constructed faith begin to unravel at the seams every time he hear Jesus speak.

The faith Jesus spoke about seemed firmly anchored in concepts of love and grace that transforms ritual into righteousness. Everything Jesus said burrowed in the emptiness of Nicodemus’ religion, cutting away the last remaining strings that held it together.

When he could not rid himself of the drabness of his faith, Nicodemus tiptoed into Jesus’ campsite in the dead of night for a private conversation that would probe his heart at its deepest.

“Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the miraculous signs you are doing if God were not with him.” (John 3:2)

Far more than a polite conversation starter, these opening lines were a veiled plea of a man for whom life and faith had grown stale. To borrow the words of Dunnam’s own experience, the past haunted him.

In reply, Jesus declared, “I tell you the truth; no one can know the kingdom of God unless he is born again.” (John 3:3)

Jesus’ cryptic statement only served to deepen Nicodemus’ despair and increase his anguish. Nicodemus argued the point by incredulously stating that being born again is a physical impossibility. A red-herring of an argument that Nicodemus hoped would buy him time to think.

Maybe it buys us some time as well. Think about it.

Yes, new life comes at birth, but after you’ve made of mess of life, when nothing about your past makes sense, when we can’t break the chains of the past, life just gets hard. It’s not easy climbing out of the ruts cut by our deliberate decision to live life on our terms.

I think deep down Nicodemus wanted this new life Jesus talked about, but didn’t know where or how to find it. This desire to find life after birth brought him to Jesus when every fiber of his being told him to stay away.

Jesus answered, “I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh but the spirit gives birth to spirit…for God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.” (John 3:5-6, 16-17)

Nicodemus wasn’t questioning the desire for restoration. That he wanted more than anything. He was questioning the possibility of restoration.

I understand where Nicodemus is coming from. Like me staring at that ladder, he knew something needed repair, but the risk felt too high and the outcome too uncertain. Yet, he came anyway—quietly and cautiously—because he knew he needed someone else to do the restoration. Jesus was his Willie, the one who could make it new again.

Restoration often begins right there. Where fear and hope meet and hope takes that one small step forward.

Jesus laid it all out there for Nicodemus as he does for us. God loves enough to offer restoration through Christ. He didn’t come to condemn us for our failures to live up to God’s standard, he just wants us to open our hearts to the possibilities that life can be more…that restoration to new life is not only possible, it is powerful.

Paul practically shouts it out in his letter to the Colossian church.

When you were dead in your sins…God made you alive in Christ. He forgave all our sins…he took it away, nailing it to the cross. (Col 2:13-14)

With sins forgiven and nailed to the cross with Christ, we find ourselves restored to new life. We see that message clearly written in 2 Corinthians.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation, the old has gone. The new has come. (2 Corinthians 5:17)

I could finish this up with my own thoughts, but I doubt they would be as profound as those penned by Dunnam himself. So, with respect to copyright laws, allow me to quote him.

“I’ve discovered there is a beginning which is common to every experience, no matter what has gone before. This beginning is the point of decisiveness where we turn to God with a new attentiveness, a new openness to his possibilities…To say “yes” to God is the ultimate act of will. To say “yes” is to surrender. Surrender is the pivotal point for becoming a whole person.”

Restoration.

Surrender leads to restoration and restoration is built into ever fiber of God’s word. It found its deepest expression in the death of Jesus on the cross in sacrifice for the mistakes of our past, present and future. For those open to the possibility of restoration…life after birth…it is all the answer we need.

The past need not define or haunt us. The present need not overwhelm us. The future need not frighten us. Every bit of flashing can be resealed. Every nail re-driven. I can…you can…be restored to new life in Christ. All it takes is the courage to tiptoe into Jesus’ campsite…even in the middle of the night when nothing else makes sense.

When we surrender to his will, there is always life after new birth and it is always more.

I have come that they might have life and have it to the full. (John 10:10)

Jesus offers me abundant life beginning now. Regardless of my past mistakes. Regardless of my stubborn desire to live life on my terms. He stands by offering a life overflowing with joy, purpose, peace, and communion with God and others.

Here’s my chance and yours today. Find restoration in God’s grace. Bury the guilt of the past. Toss a flower on its grave. Dance at its funeral.

Let’s express our gratitude to Christ for restoration even as we discover that there is indeed life after birth.

Create in me a pure heart, O God and renew a steadfast spirit within me…Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit to sustain me. (Psalm 51:10,12)

Thinking Points

What “loose flashing” in my life have I noticed but avoided addressing because the climb feels risky or uncomfortable?

In what ways might my faith—like Nicodemus’s—be carefully constructed but quietly unraveling at the seams?

Do I believe restoration is something God desires for me, but struggle to believe it is truly possible? Why?

What parts of my past still feel like they haunt me rather than instruct me—and what would it mean to “dance at their funeral?”

What would it look like for me to say a decisive “yes” to God today—not starting over (because I can’t), but starting now?

Man in the Mirror

Focal Passage: James 1:22-25

Like many World War II veterans, Dwight Eisenhower was one of my Dad’s heroes, both as a general and a president. The more I read about Eisenhower’s leadership during the war and his time as president and his compassion for people, the more I admire the man.

Eisenhower was not a man of impulse, but rather a man who gathered information, listened to the advice of others and then acted decisively. He knew there was a time to plan and a time to do.

In his book, An Army at Dawn, Rick Atkinson related this story about Eisenhower. American troops had landed in North Africa in 1942 in an effort to liberate Europe from Hitler’s Nazi Germany. In the earliest days of that invasion, the U. S. Army struggled to gain ground. Eisenhower grew frustrated with what many of his commanders were doing…or more accurately…not doing in the field.

In his notes, Eisenhower wrote, “There is a lot of big talk and desk hammering around this place, but very few doers.”

Don’t you wonder sometimes if God feels the same way when he watches his people today. Surely, he hears a lot of “big talk and desk hammering” from those who profess a love for him, but how many of us are “doers.”

God actually warned us of that tendency when he inspired James to write a letter to the persecution-scattered Christians of the first century. Look at what he says after encouraging his fellow Christians to humbly accept the word planted in you.

Do not merely listen to the word and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in the mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But the man who looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues to do this, not forgetting what he has heard, but doing it—he will be blessed in what he does. (James 1:22-25)

James warns us against lulling ourselves into a false sense of complacency by thinking we’re getting this faith thing right for the Lord when we aren’t really doing the things he teaches us to do.

I love the illustration James uses to drive home his point when he talks about the man who, in his daily routine, sees himself in the mirror, but forgets what he looks like when he walks way. James compares the physical man with the spiritual man who “looks intently” into the “perfect law,” and not forgetting what it reveals, but rather doing what it commands.

James sees God’s word as a perfect mirror, one into which we can look to see the truth as God reveals it to us. The godly man, James says, remembers what God’s law or word says and then does what it commands him to do.

The first man observes, goes away and forgets. The second man studies, perseveres and acts. The first man goes through the motions without meaning and the second man looks with intent at the word of God, continually concentrating on its meaning.

What he learns changes his behavior and compels him to act upon it. Both men listen…which is a good place to start…only the latter ultimately acts.

In Matthew’s account of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus makes the same point.

Therefore, anyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like the wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against the house; yet it did not fall because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house upon the sand. The rain came down, the streams rose and the winds blew and beat upon the house, and it fell with a great crash. (Matthew 7: 24-27)

The difference between hearing and doing is huge!

Jesus’ illustration is borne out of his life experiences as a carpenter and craftsman. It is believable that he spent a portion of his life building homes, knowing the critical importance of a good foundation.

Theologian William Barclay wrote, “Only a house whose foundations are firm can withstand the storm; and only a life whose foundations are sure can stand the tests.”

Jesus tells us how to build that foundation…on hearing and on doing.

Jesus places value in the hearing. We cannot act upon what we do not know. Therefore, we must listen to God’s word. It is looking into the mirror of his word and seeing it for what it is. Again, it’s a great first step. Listening with intent takes us deeper than just hearing. The latter acknowledges God’s teaching. The former internalizes it.

Listening with intent to the word of God prepares for Jesus’ next command. Jesus wants us to be doers of his word. Knowledge only becomes relevant when we put it into action. Theory must be applied. Again, as Barclay writes, “Theology must become life.”

My cardiologist today told me to exercise more and lose weight. It does little good to go to the doctor in the first place if I’m not going to at least try to do what she instructs me to do. The same holds with my faith. It does little good to study God’s word if I don’t allow it to change my lifestyle and compel me to act.

It boils down to obedience, doesn’t it? For both my physical and spiritual health.

I have been guilty too many times of not hearing with intent. I suspect you have as well. Many people hear the word of God, but they don’t do anything with it. There are a lot of people who just enjoy listening to good preaching and teaching. That’s as far as it goes. They never really do anything with it. Call them “hearers of the word.” They listen, and listen, and listen — but it never leads them to DO what they’ve heard.

Again, hearing God’s word is a good thing, but it is not the end that God desires for us. James tells us that the one who hears with intent, never forgetting God’s word, the one will be blessed in what he does. This means the obedient person who does what God commands will find favor through a changed life. Will find blessings in the doing itself. Blessings in a life aligned with God’s will.

The blessing received by hearing and doing carries the biblical idea of shalom—being right with God and others. It is relational and spiritual. It also hints at blessings derived from an active and obedient faith that bears fruit in the life of the one who does and the lives of those he or she touches.

There’s the challenge James presents us. If all you and I are doing is hearing or reading or even studying God’s word, we might think we’re being a good follower of Christ, but we’re only deceiving ourselves, looking at ourselves in a mirror and walking away (vs. 22). Maybe it’s time we took the next step to become doers of the word!

Like Michael Jackson sang back in 1987 when he recorded Man in the Mirror:

I’m starting with the man in the mirror.
I’m asking him to change his ways.
And no message could have been any clearer.
If you want to make the world a better place
Just look at yourself then make a change.

May my life and yours be a reflection of Jesus and not a lot of “big talk and desk hammering.”

Thinking Points

When I read or hear God’s word, where do I most often stop short of actually doing what it calls me to do?

In what ways might I be mistaking familiarity with scripture for obedience to scripture?

How does Jesus’ picture of building on rock versus sand challenge the foundation upon which I’m currently building my life?

What is one concrete step I can take this week to move from “hearing” to “doing?”

Treasuring and Pondering

Focal Passage: Luke 2:19

Mary, did you know
that your baby boy would one day walk on water?
Mary, did you know
that your baby boy would save our sons and daughters?
Did you know
that your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you delivered
would soon deliver you.

Those words written by Mark Lowry, a comedian, singer and songwriter long associated with the Gaither Family, are the first stanza of what has become my favorite Christmas song. Many artists have recorded it since it was written, but Lowry sings it with unequaled passion.

In the bridge, Lowry’s words to Mary speak of the work of Christ in a building crescendo.

The blind will see.
The deaf will hear.
The dead shall live again.
The lame will leap.
The dumb will speak.
The praises of the lamb.

The as the song closes, the words ask Mary one last question before providing the resounding answer.

Did you know that your baby boy
Is heaven’s perfect lamb?
The sleeping child you’re holding is the great I AM!

Mary, did you know?

*****

The young mother listened to the hearty giggles of her toddler as the boy’s father tossed him playfully into the air, catching him with calloused hands. She laughed to herself as this manly carpenter cooed in baby-speak. She shook her head in awe and returned to the preparation of the evening meal.

The routine task of grinding the wheat into flour for the evening bread freed her mind once again to reflect on the life God had given her.

Luke, the Bible’s historian, put it this way.

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. (Luke 2:19)

Mary, did you know?

That one little verse, often overlooked, comes at the end of the beloved Christmas narrative. Long after Jesus’ birth, long after the shepherds returned to their fields and flocks, Mary treasured and pondered.

Mary, did you know?

Long after Jesus’ dedication when Simeon praised God for allowing him to see God’s salvation, Mary treasured and pondered.

Mary, did you know?

Long after Anna, a prophetess who served in the temple, took one look at Jesus and told everyone who would listen that this was the child who would bring redemption to Jerusalem, Mary treasured and pondered.

Long after the wise men found a new route home, Mary treasured and pondered.

Mary, did you know?

On that day I imagined, as Mary kneaded the dough and Joseph and Jesus played, what did she treasure? What did she ponder?

Think back to the night the angel told Mary what God planned for her. She would bear a son who would be the Son of the Most High; a son who would reign over the House of David forever. Later, her aunt Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, reaffirmed the miraculous birth as she called Mary blessed among all women.

Through an immaculate pregnancy and an ordinary birth, Mary saw it all come true, just as God promised. In those first few years, surely the whole experience seemed surreal, almost beyond belief. Mary took it all in. Tried to make sense of the inexplicable. She treasured and she pondered.

The Greek verb translated treasured in this passage doesn’t mean to just remember. It means to carefully preserve, to guard or keep something alive for future understanding.

You and I have had 2,000 years of history. We can hold God’s word in our hand and read the unfolding of his redemptive plan that began its climactic work in a Bethlehem manger.

Two or three years after that day, Mary was still trying to wrap her arms around it. So much of what happened must have seemed to her a mystery. So, she kept the experience in her heart as she watched her child grow, keeping her experience real and alive, hoping to one day understand the how and why?

Mary not only treasured, but she pondered.

Thinking is a broad, general process that tends to be quick and practical. I think about what I’m about to do. Pondering takes thinking to a completely different level. Most of us are thinkers. We don’t ponder enough.

Pondering implies lingering thought. Unhurried. Contemplative. Reflective. Inward. When one ponders one weighs significance. Turning something over and over in your heart and mind, It implies a sense of awe and wonder, seeking to find personal meaning.

The Greek word Luke uses in this passage translated as ponder means to actively bring things together. To compare and contrast. To wrestle with a thought toward understanding. That’s different from daydreaming or passively reflecting on something.

You see, Mary, like any mother, carried fond memories of her child’s birth. The journey from Nazareth. The discomfort of a donkey ride. The worry about finding a place to stay in a crowded city. The pain of childbirth. The pure joy of holding her son in those first magical moments. That’s the precious memory of motherhood.

When Mary pondered, she intentionally reflected on all that was said and all that happened, trying to fit the pieces together. Wrestling with its meaning. Mary wanted to make sense of what felt unexplainable. Mary looked at everything she had experienced to that point…everything we understand as our Christmas story…and treasured and pondered what it all meant.

Mary, did you know?

To her credit, Mary never demanded immediate understanding. Never insisted that if God wanted her participation, he needed to read her in fully on the plan. Mary thought about it…a lot…I imagine. Despite not fully grasping the significance or the how and why, Mary accepted her role in God’s plan with such deep faith and trust.

There it is! In the middle of Mary’s treasuring and pondering lies the lesson I needed as the Advent candles are snuffed out and we pack away the manger for another year.

On this side of Christmas, what do we know? What must we treasure? What must we ponder?

God is at work in my life. He has been at work, is now at work, and will be at work in my life until the day he calls me home. I truly believe that. I have a tendency, though I suspect most of us do, to demand from God an immediate explanation for the things happening in my life…good or bad. I tend to pray for answers before I am willing to act.

I test. I don’t always treasure.

I think. I don’t always ponder.

Mary trusted that God was at work in and through her life, even if she didn’t always know why or how things were going to work out. Her faith held on to and accepted the mystery rather than disregarding it, or worse still, trying to change it. Most importantly, Mary trusted that understanding would come with time and obedience. Her role was to keep listening and waiting…as long as necessary.

I need to learn that faith often means actively treasuring and guarding God’s promises that have not yet been resolved with clarity. To hang on to his word. To keep it viable and constantly in my thoughts for future understanding. To be obedient to it without trying to bend it to my will. To trust that the day will come when he opens my eyes to see with reverence and wonder how he has moved throughout my life.

Mary understood that God’s work in her life required spiritual attentiveness…a whole lot of pondering if you will. Most of the life’s lessons God teaches me require me to wrestle with them until what he is trying to teach me starts making sense. He asks me to dig deeper. To seek his truth. The water of life rarely comes from a shallow well.

Treasuring and pondering take time. What God begins in our lives one day will unfold, but it will unfold in his time, not instantly, but when the time is right. He asks us to wait faithfully on his timing. That’s never easy to do.

When God’s work surpasses our understanding, we are invited…like Mary…to treasure and ponder his work in our lives.

That seems to be the perfect message for the coming New Year.

I will mediate on your precepts and will fix my eyes on your ways. (Psalm 119:15)

Thinking (Pondering) Points

What has God done in my life recently that I need to slow down and ponder?

What practices in my faith walk help me treasure God’s work instead of casually dismissing it?

In what ways does Mary’s quiet, reflective faith challenge my tendency to seek quick answers?

How might God be shaping me during times when he asks me to wait and reflect rather than act?

A Life of Thanksgiving

Focal Passage: Colossians 3:12-17

In the middle of the United States Civil War on October 3, 1863, President Abraham Lincoln issued a proclamation declaring the last Thursday in November as a Day of Thanksgiving and Praise. Lincoln wrote in that proclamation that the year had been “filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies,” blessings he called “gracious gifts of the Most High God.”

While merchants throughout our country blow off Thanksgiving for the more lucrative pursuit of Christmas, we, the people, as Lincoln liked to say, will all pause for a moment, gathered with family or friends, to enjoy a holiday centered on gratitude, generosity and togetherness. Hopefully, for those of us who try to live out our faith, Thanksgiving will grant us a chance for a little honest reflection on the gracious goodness of God.

Just as it is easy for us to get caught up in the trappings of Christmas and fail to sincerely remember God’s greatest gift, it is easy to get caught up in the toppings of Thanksgiving…the dressing, the cranberry sauce, the gravy. In my family, those toppings we focus on might include the cheese, the pico de gallo, the onions, and the guacamole we stuff into our non-traditional Thanksgiving fajitas.

We will quietly express our thanks to God, but I wonder if the words are that meaningful to him amid all the hustle and activity of the day. Let me explain.

I have lost both of my parents. At this ripe old age of 72, that’s not surprising, I suppose. Mom died 27 years ago of cancer at the too young age of 69. At the age of 98, Dad died two years ago of nothing more really than a life lived long and well.

Before they died, I got a chance to thank both of them in private for being the amazing parents they were. Given the sacrifices they made, the role models they were in my life, the life lessons they instilled, everything I said those days felt woefully inadequate. Though I struggled with the words, I think they understood my intent.

I got a similar response from both of them. Smiles shining through watery eyes and hugs they probably wished could be stronger.

My parents held expectations for me and my siblings, not so much on what we might do in life, but in how we chose to live life. As I think back on those precious moments with them, I pray I met those expectations.

As a parent of adult children now, I get it. You raise your children hoping they will be good people. That their lives will reflect the values you tried to instill in them. That they will live their lives with faith in God, love for family, compassion for others and integrity in all things. My sons have lived that life and more. Though they’ve both spoken their words of thanks at times, their lives lived well is all the gratitude I need.

Here’s the point I’m trying to make. We will gather around a table on Thanksgiving. At some point, we will pray and express our gratitude to God for all he’s done for us. I wonder, however, if this is the best way to say thanks to God.

While I’m quite sure our Lord appreciates the words of gratitude, how much more does he appreciate our lives lived as a reflection of his goodness and grace? How much more does he desire that we live our lives in ways that reflect the values he tries to instill in us?

I had the privilege of listening to an inspiring sermon this week delivered by the Rev. Robert Thomas, Jr., of Mt. Olivet Missionary Baptist Church in Houston. The Rev. Thomas spoke powerfully about holy living in a world filled with unholy actions.

In his text in Colossians 3:12, we find Paul saying that every believer in Christ should “clothe ourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” We are to be forgiving because God forgave us, covering all our actions with love. Then, Paul added, “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts…and be thankful.”

I pulled out the verse again this week thinking about the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday, focusing on those last two words, “Be thankful.” If you continue reading in that chapter, you’ll find these words that sum up the previous verses. I think it has everything to do with how we express our gratitude to God. Paul said:

And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Colossians 3:17)

Whatever you do in word or deed…give thanks.

Think about that for a second. I’m not sure Paul just wants us to thank God for giving us the word to say or the deed to do. I think he might mean that we should let our words and deeds be said and done in the name of Christ so well and so faithfully that our words and our deeds becomes an expression of our thanks to God.

When we act in compassion or kindness, when we live humbly, with gentleness toward others and patience in the face of the trouble, when we forgive, and let love drive our every thought or deed…that is an act of thanksgiving to God that means more to him, I believe, than simply saying a heartfelt thanks…as important as those words are to say at times.

When King Saul in the Old Testament disobeyed God but tried to cover it with yet another hastily thrown together sacrifice, God told him through Samuel, “To obey is better than sacrifice; to listen (is better) than the fat of rams.” (I Samuel 15:22)

That seems to be telling me that actions speak louder than words. If I want to thank God for his power, presence, protection and provision in my life, saying the words is important, but living in ways that honor him seems more important.

Let our obedience to his word be our thanksgiving for his goodness and grace. Jesus told his disciples in John 14:15 that if they truly loved him, they would keep his commandments. That we would live as he lived. Our surrender to his will and way then become acts of love and thankfulness.

Scripture teaches us, I think, that gratitude reaches its highest point when it moves beyond feelings and emotion and becomes faithful living. Being obedient to his commands and following his teachings in every aspect of life.

Living out God’s will by loving others, showing compassion toward those who are in need, forgiving those who hurt us, serving those around us—these actions, done in response to God’s redemptive and restorative work in our own lives, become the most sincere expressions of gratitude a believer can offer. A life surrendered to God’s will and way is a spiritual act of thanksgiving.

As he neared the end of his earthly ministry, Jesus consoled his disciples by urging them to stay connected to him. He drew upon a metaphor they would understand.

I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing…If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish and it will be given you. This is to my father’s glory that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples. (John 15:5,7-8)

In other words, when we remain in Christ and do his will, we bear fruit. The fruit we bear brings glory to God. Our faithfulness and our work that impacts the lives of others and demonstrates that we are his children is an act of thanksgiving that glorifies God and makes him known to a world so desperately in need of him.

When we allow God’s spirit to shape our character with love, joy, peace, hope, patience, kindness, gentleness, we are expressing our deep gratitude for God’s saving work in our lives. When we, in a loving spirit, oppose actions in our world that run counter to the spirit and message of Christ, we are expressing our gratitude for God’s saving work in our lives.

When I see my sons living out the life God called them to live, when I see evidence of their faithfulness, compassion and Godly integrity, seeing the godly men they have become…that’s really all the gratitude I need. Of course, hearing that word of thanks, wrapped in the occasional hug, warms my heart.

I just feel God might be the same way. Watching you and me live out the lives we’ve been called to live for him, seeing evidence of our faith in our words and deeds, watching us bear fruit in ways that draw others to Christ, living godly lives, that’s what he most desires.

Hearing that word of thanks and giving him that spiritual hug, surely warms his heart.

Here’s my prayer for my life and yours this Thanksgiving holiday. May we recommit our lives to the one who redeemed us and called us to be his disciples, his fruit-bearers. May our lives and the words we speak and the work we do for him be a living expression of our gratitude for all he has done for us. Let’s say our thanks in prayer and live our thankfulness in practice.

I will praise you, O Lord my God, with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever. (Psalm 86:12)

Thinking Points

Who in my life has modeled grateful living? How can I follow their example in my walk with Christ?

In what ways can my everyday words and actions become a genuine expression of thankfulness to God?

Colossians 3 speaks to the qualities of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience, among others. Which of those traits do I need growth in my life if I want my life to shout my thanks to God for what he has done for me?

How might my life today change and want would it look like if obedience and faithfulness to God became my primary way of expressing gratitude to God?

Let God Finish

Publishers note: Due to a glitch in the technology or my own lack of technical skill, it is possible that this post was not sent to my email subscribers this morning. Now that the system has been fixed, I am reposting upon request. –KL

Focal Passage: James 1:2-4

Have you ever wondered why we say some of the things we say?

The truth in old adages and pithy maxims get repeated so often that we often quote them when the circumstances seem to find and call them to mind.

Take this one, for instance.

“Grin and bear it!”

Two times within an hour this weekend, and in completely different circumstances, I heard someone tell another, “Grin and bear it!” In both instances, someone was dealing with a gnawing issue beyond their control.

The phrase first appeared in Evelina, a 1778 novel written by Fanny Burney, in which the title character is entering London society for the first time, learning to navigate its manners and absurdities. Facing another socially awkward and frustrating situation, she resigns herself to endure things politely rather than protest too much.

This stoic, ‘grin and bear it” attitude sort of evolved in American culture as a mixture of Puritan faith, frontier toughness, Victorian restraint filtered through a heavy sieve of Protestant work ethic. It became a symbol, I guess, of self-reliance and moral strength.

I’ve often thought “grin and bear it” was the appropriate Christian response to difficult circumstance over which you had no control, especially when I saw my Dad react so unflappably to another hail storm that ruined yet another cotton crop. That internal stoicism was the first thing I was taught in Public Relations 101 in college, “Never let them see you sweat.”

When I opened my Bible to the Book of James this morning, I read this verse:

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, for you know the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance (steadfastness) finish its work, so that you might be mature and complete, lacking in nothing. (James 1:2-4)

My first paraphrase, in light of the comments overheard this weekend, was:

Grin and bear, my brothers and sisters…

I don’t think that’s exactly what James had in mind. It isn’t a flippant resignation that shrugs its shoulders and says, “Keep a stiff upper lip.” “Bite the bullet.” “Roll with the punches.” Nor is it my personal fallback to any adversity, “Hang in there.”

The attitude James expresses is far more purposeful and practical. Less “grin and bear it.” More “endure and rejoice with purpose.”

Despite the promises of the “prosperity gospel,” trials will come. It’s a given. If you have not experienced the kind of sorrows or adversity that knocks you to your knees, then, thank God for your good fortune, but I’m guessing you’re also young. Live long enough and life happens. With life comes circumstances that test our faith in sometimes brutal ways.

Lest you think James is really Debbie Downer for declaring that truth, Paul doubles down on it.

We glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character and character, hope.” (Romans 5:3-4)

The testing of your faith, James and Paul said, produces perseverance. Perseverance is sometimes translated steadfastness. I like that thought.

Steadfastness conveys this idea of firm, unwavering faith. It is the quality of being fixed in purpose, devotion or direction, despite the hardships or obstacles in our way. To be so grounded in Christ that our faith never fails, even when circumstances might give us the right to feel overwhelmed. Think of it as spiritual staying power.

James tells us to “rejoice” in those difficulties. Paul tells us to “glory in our suffering.” When I hear these words, it’s not that these pillars of faith are telling me to force a smile on my face and pretend nothing has happened to darken my day. “Grin and bear it, Kirk.”

They are telling me to find joy in the faith I have in Christ, knowing that God, in his purposeful grace, will be at work in and through every difficulty to grow me into the person he needs me to be, despite the hardships I face.

Here’s real beauty in our focal passage…at least it’s beautiful to me.

Let perseverance (steadfastness) finish its work, so that you might be mature and complete, lacking in nothing. (James 1:4)

If we truly believe the promises of God in Romans that he will work through every circumstance of life— feast or famine, good or bad, sorrows self-inflicted or hardship beyond our control—to the good of those who love him and are called according to his will and purpose, then we must allow him his time and our open hearts to let steadfastness finish its work.

In other words, don’t give up on God. Don’t let circumstances drive you away from your faith. Don’t walk away from the work God is doing to mature you in your faith. These words serve as a call for us to cooperate with God’s refining work in our lives, rather than resisting or ignoring the lessons he can teach through it all.

Persevering comes with the idea of learning from God through every circumstance. Letting faith mature. The Greek word used here for “complete” (teleios) is the same root of the word Jesus breathed from the cross when he declared before his death, “It is finished.” My work is done. In both cases, it is God finishing his work in us.

James would tell you and me to not give up on God in the face of life’s most difficult moments.

There is a scene in Season 4 of The Chosen where Jesus has just told his disciples that he was sending them out on mission. They would be given, Jesus said, the power to preach, teach and heal.

As Jesus is leaving, he is approached by Little James, the disciple in the Bible we know as James, son of Alphaeous, or James, the Lesser, to distinguish him from James, the brother of John. Dallas Jenkins, the writer of the series, took creative license and depicted Little James as disabled, unable to walk without a walking staff.

James comes to Jesus and marvels at this idea of being able to heal others when Jesus had not bothered to heal him of his disability. It’s an incredibly poignant moment that I’ve attached to this study for you to see. James asks Jesus, “Why haven’t you healed me?”

While the scene may not be biblically true, Jesus’ response is a powerful biblical truth. It is a six-minute clip, but I encourage you to watch it. Then, come back and finish your reading. Click on this link.

Why Haven’t You Healed Me? (The Chosen Scene)

Did you catch it? Jesus explains to Little James why he will not heal him.

“To know how to proclaim to praise God in spite of this…to know how to focus on all that matters so much more than the body…to show people that you can be patient with your suffering here on earth, because you know you’ll spend eternity with no suffering…not everyone can understand that.

“How many people do you think the father and I trust with this?

“So many people need healing to believe in me. Or they need healing because their hearts are so sick. That does not apply to you,” Jesus says as he taps James on his chest.

“Hold on a little longer. And when you discover yourself by finding your true strength because of your weakness; when you do great things in my name despite of this, the impact will last for generations.”

I love that scene for the encouragement it gives James and ultimately to every one of us who is suffering or loves someone who is.

I know many people of faith who find themselves in this same situation. Burdened with circumstances that would break the heart and soul of most people. Desiring to be healed or removed from overwhelming hardship.

How wonderful it would be if we could, in the middle of our struggles, hold on a little longer. Discover ourselves by finding our true strength in Christ amid our weaknesses. Find ourselves doing great things for Christ and his kingdom in ways that remains impactful for generations to come. That’s the real healing, is it not?

If healing is slow in coming or doesn’t come at all, if the hardship continues, trust in his God’s steadfast and enduring love for us.

The steadfast love of our Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning. Great is your faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:22-23)

God’s steadfast and persevering and enduring love and mercy never end. His work is fresh and new in us every morning. Let God work. No matter what you and I might be going through, let God finish his work.

Jesus might tell us to focus on what matters more than the current situation in which we find ourselves. Finding joy and peace in knowing that God is at work even in the middle of what seems insurmountable. When we find our true strength and do great things for God because and in spite of our circumstance, the impact can truly last for generations.

If we do, we’ll lack nothing.

“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)

Thinking Points

How does the idea of “grin and bear it” differ from the attitude James encourages as we face trials? What does this teach us about purposeful endurance in faith?

In what ways can hardship produce perseverance, steadfastness and spiritual maturity in our lives?

How might we find joy or glory in the midst of suffering without dismissing or minimizing the very real pain of our circumstance?

How does the story of Little James in The Chosen illustrate the principle of discovering strength through weakness? Is there a parallel application to our own challenges?

What does it mean to “cooperate with God’s refining work” in our lives? How can we practically allow steadfastness or perseverance to finish its work in our faith journey?

A Bit of Catharsis

Focal Passage: James 3:2-12

Aristotle used his position as philosopher and teacher to analyze and explain Greek drama. In his work Poetics, Aristotle studied Greek tragedy and epic poetry, outlining the principles of plot, character and catharsis.

Catharsis is the process of releasing strong and repressed emotions, leading to a sense of peace and renewal. In psychology, it refers to the expression of pent-up feelings like anger, grief or fear to reduce inner tension. Catharsis is an emotional release that brings clarity and healing.

I wrote a Bible study this week that felt cathartic. It was my gut reaction to all that has happened in our country over the past two weeks. My sadness that yet more acts of violence were committed by someone who thought such heinous acts would provide their catharsis.

Anger at the rhetoric spewing from politicians and presidents that seemed more intent on deepening the hurt than healing it. Anguish that my grandchildren had to hear such language from people in leadership positions. Fear for a nation that has lost its sense of direction and decency.

As I laid in bed last night, reflecting on what I had intended for you to read this morning, it was anything but cathartic. It was…misdirected. There was certainly no clarity or healing. No release of inner tension.

There’s a short passage of scripture in Luke that tells us of a time when Jesus “resolutely set out for Jerusalem,” marching toward the culmination of his ministry, his death on the cross. Jesus sent some disciples ahead of him into a village in Samaria to make plans for an overnight stay.

The people in the village refused to extend hospitality to Jesus. They “did not welcome him because he was heading to Jerusalem.” The political, racial and religious hatred between Samaritans and Jews ran so deep, they put out a “no vacancy” sign and told him to move along.

When the disciples James and John saw this they asked, “Lord, do you want us to call down fire from heaven to destroy them?” But Jesus turned and rebuked them, and they went to another village.” (Luke 9:51-55)

For the Sons of Thunder, as Jesus teasingly once nicknamed James and John, it might have been cathartic to blast the disrespectful villagers, but it would have changed nothing. What I wrote yesterday was my “fire from heaven.” Lying in bed, I felt Jesus’ rebuke.

Less condemnation. More compassion.

Less brimstone. More benevolence.

Followers of Christ must speak with a different voice. All too often these days, that’s not what’s happening. The discarded file in my computer’s trash box is my testimony.

I woke up with this morning with the reminder of how difficult it is to repair the damage done when people who publicly profess a faith in Christ with one breath use the next breath to dehumanize those who believe differently or support policies and programs that marginalize and hurt people. As soon as that happens, our testimony about the life-changing presence of Christ falls on deaf ears.

As Christians, our words must be measured by the grace we’ve been shown by God through Christ. The words I wrote this week were not measured in grace. For that, I ask God’s forgiveness.

That’s why I turned to scripture again this morning to remind me how I am called to live and speak…so I can be the model my grandkids need to see and hear to counter the messages they’re getting from the world out there.

In Colossians 4:6 Paul encouraged the church to be wise in how they act toward others and wise in what we say. It’s a great reminder for today…for me and, I suspect, for all of us.

Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.

It’s another way of saying, “As you talk to others about anything and everything, let your words, once uttered, leave a good taste in your mouth.”
Paul had spent time immediately before penning those words that our goal is to grow to be more Christ like in how we live and what we say.

But now you must rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips. Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices and have put on the new self which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator. (Colossians 3:8-12)

Then, in his letter to the church in Ephesus, he taught that believers in Christ should take a verbal Hippocratic oath to build and strengthen, to “do no harm” in the things we say to others.

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” (Ephesians 4:29)

James, the half-brother of Jesus, who became a driving force in the early church after Jesus’ death and resurrection, wrote his letter to fellow believers encouraging them toward a life characterized by genuine faith that demonstrated itself in good work and good words. As one who once called Jesus “out of his mind,” James knew how easily it is in our sinful humanness to say things that damage the cause of Christ.

Look at what he wrote.

With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be! (James 3:9-10)

We can’t effectively share our testimony of Christ at work in our lives when our next breath demeans and dehumanizes those who challenge us. Our words need to be consistent in sharing Christ’s love. Our sinful nature makes that so incredibly hard to do.

James said that no one can truly tame the tongue. “It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.”

It is God’s wisdom revealed to us and through us that ultimately tames the tongue, providing the antidote to its poison.

The wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure, then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace raise a harvest of righteousness. (James 4:17-18)

By the same token, Jesus said our words would make clear to others our heart. What we feel in our hearts we will express. We will be accountable to God for the how our talk aligns with our walk. How the speech from our heart aligns with his heart.

“For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks. The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in him. But, I tell you that men will have to give account on the day of judgment for every careless word they have spoken. For by your words you will be acquitted and by your words you will be condemned. (Matthew 12:34-37)

There is a bit of Jewish folklore that makes some sense here. A man, angry at another, went from neighbor to neighbor spreading some vicious rumors about the one who made him so mad. Later, convicted of his own guilt, the man asked his wise rabbi how he could atone for his mistake. “Take your pillow,” advised the rabbi, “cut it open and scatter the feathers on the wind. Once that’s done, gather all the feathers again and stuff them back into the pillowcase.

“That’s impossible,” said the man.

The rabbi answered, “So it is with words once they leave your lips.”

Ultimately, all I can tell my grandchildren is that all of us have a lot of feathers to pick up. I’ve been picking them up all morning.

The goal is to become so Christlike in our talk and walk that each day we find ourselves picking up fewer and fewer feathers.

I find that cathartic.

Thinking Points

How does the way we speak about others–especially those with whom we disagree–shape the witness of our faith?

What makes it so difficult, even for believers, to keep our words consistently filled with grace instead of anger or insult?

If words are like feathers scattered in the wind, what practical steps can we take to repair the damage once they’re spoken?

How might our personal and political discourse change if every Christian lived by Paul’s instruction to let their words be “full of grace and seasoned with salt?

What’s Love Got To Do With It?

Focal Passage: I Corinthians 13:1-13

I sang a duet this week with Pop/Soul recording star Tina Turner. She didn’t know it, but I certainly did. Listening to Sirius Radio’s Classic Hits station in my car this week behind the protection of my tinted windows, Tina and I belted out her soulful and defiant rendition of What’s Love Got to Do with It? Personally, I think I nailed it!

While my voice probably added little value to the 1980s hit, Tina’s husky voice gave the song a raw, emotional edge that made it feel lived in rather than just performed. What’s Love Got to Do with It? became Tina’s “anthem of independence,” a song that questioned love’s place in relationships while asserting her own strength.

What’s love got to do with it?

You may find it hard to believe, but that’s essentially the question Paul asked the people in the church at Corinth over 2,000 years ago. Let’s jump back in time for a bit.

Paul established the church in Corinth during his second missionary journey around 50 AD. While the church was doing some good things, it also struggled to stay grounded in Christ as Paul taught them. Some of the believers had a tendency to drift back into their old way of life, indulging in sexual immorality or blending aspects of their former pagan worship into their new beliefs.

Others, gifted by God for ministry in various ways, tended to believe their gifts were of greater value than others and considered themselves better than their fellow church members. Evidently, it led to some nasty arguments among them and more than a little name calling.

When the situation got bad enough, some folks in the Corinthian church, trying to do things the right way, boarded a boat and crossed the Aegean Sea from the port of Cenchreae (near Corinth) to Ephesus, a journey of about 200 nautical miles. They came to Paul, sharing what was happening back home and seeking his counsel.

While they struggled with a great many things, the story of the Christians in Corinth was a sad tale of dissension and disunity. All the infighting within the church damaged their witness for Christ. As a result, Paul sat down and wrote a corrective letter to his “brothers and sisters,” urging them to “end the divisions among you” and to be “perfectly united in mind and thought.” (I Corinthians 1)

At one point Paul addressed the issue of their disunity by explaining that God grants everyone abilities and spiritual gifts to be used to build up each other and the church as they work together to advance the cause of Christ. One gift is not greater than the other, making each person valuable to God’s kingdom.

Then, Paul shows them “the most excellent way” to end their divisiveness. As he did so, he wrote perhaps one of the New Testament’s most memorable passages: I Corinthians 13. Take a look.

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. (I Corinthians 13:1-8a)

It’s difficult to read these verses, as I often do, and not hear wedding bells. In fact, my wife and I chose these verses to be read at our wedding 50 years ago. While they fit quite well shoehorned into a marriage ceremony, it’s not what Paul had in mind when he penned them.

Paul needed the believers in Corinth to start loving each other as Christ loved them. To express love for each other and for the lost as a priority over everything else. Love, Paul believed, is the litmus test of our life in Christ, proving that we are his.

It wasn’t a thought unique to the apostle. Jesus taught his disciples the same thing just prior to his death on the cross.

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this shall all me know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. (John 13:34-35)

The love both Jesus and Paul spoke about is selfless love as defined in the Greek word agape. It was modeled by Christ throughout his life and upon his death on the cross for our sins. Self-giving. Sacrificial. Always seeking good for others even when they don’t deserve it.

Given the attitudes of many in the Corinthian church, Paul described not what love is, but how love acts—less descriptive adjective and more active verb. If our love fails to positively engage in the joy and hurt of others, if love fails to extend God’s grace , we accomplish nothing. We gain nothing.

That sounds harsh. There is a Latin phrase—sine qua non—that means essentially, “if you don’t have this, you don’t have anything.” Without love, the rest comes off no better than Professor Harold Hill’s River City Marching Band, a lot of notes, but very little music. Whatever we tried to accomplish gains nothing.

When considered in the context of Paul’s instruction to the Corinthian church, love expressed in patience is our choice to love someone not because of who they are, but in spite of who they are, in spite of what they’ve done to you. It is love that refuses to be offended and chooses again to see potential in others. Patient love does not demand instant understanding, but continues to disciple and teach.

A love expressed in kindness love isn’t just being nice. In the original Greek, the word for kind carries a sense of active gentleness that treats others with worth and dignity. It builds up others rather than tears down. It notices need and acts upon it. It is consistent in deeds, words and tone. It is love with hands and feet…and a gentle voice.

Paul also cites a litany of things love is not. He’s speaking directly to the Corinthians for whom love was, as Tina sang, a “second-hand emotion” forgotten amid the disharmony.

The attitudes of some within the church were envious, boastful, rude, self-seeking and angry toward others they deemed unworthy of their time and help. They diminished their giftedness by their lack of genuine love toward others. These attitudes were tearing apart the church and proving to be an ineffective witness.

“Love never fails,” Paul said. It always wraps its arms around the hurting. Love gives the benefit of the doubt by looking for the good in others. It clings to hope when change, healing or reconciliation is needed. It perseveres through the toughest of times, never giving up on God. Never giving up on others.

It must have hurt the heart of God for the Corinthian church to fall into such a destructive pattern of life. When you read through Paul’s letter, it’s not hard to imagine the hateful exchange of words among the believers who felt justified in their arrogance, believing themselves to be better, more faithful followers of Christ than others.

As I’m imagining their lack of love, I’m reminded of my own failure to extend love and grace to others in times they needed it most. I suspect you’re no different. We must do better.

Though I sometimes fail in that regard, I cringe when professing Christians post angry tirades on social media toward non-believers or even other professing Christians who hold differing views on the social, political or even spiritual topic of the day. I groan at the damage done to the cause of Christ when professing Christians in high political or social positions question with hateful words the faith of others who stand against their programs and policies.

Not everyone who loves is Christian, but every Christian should love always– because God first loved us.

Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. (I John 4:7-8)

Therein lies the challenge for our faith in our world today. To set aside the divisions and the disunity among us and love nonetheless. To pray sincerely for a change of heart for those who are so hurt they have to hate. Let love start with me. Let it start with you. As we grow in love, maybe we can love others into loving others.

Paul ends his discussion on the subject of love with this:

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. (I Corinthians 13:13)

You see, as critical as faith and hope are to our present days, love supersedes them both. For one day, when we see Christ face to face, faith and hope will no longer be necessary.

Faith is that conviction that anchors us in Christ. Yet, one day in God’s kingdom, faith will give way to sight. We won’t need faith once we see him face to face. Hope, our confident expectation of God’s eternal promises, sustains us through this life. Once we have received what we long for in Christ, hope has served it’s purpose

Love never ceases. Love is not something God gives, it is who he is. In Christ, love will never fail or be replaced in heaven, it will only be perfected. Because love embodies the character of God as shown in Christ, it is our highest expression of spiritual maturity and the truest mark of any disciple.

That’s what Paul told the Corinthian church. It’s what he is telling us today. Measure your spiritual life not by the knowledge you attain, not by your giftedness and not the strength of your faith or the depth of your hope. Love is the proof of a life lived for Christ.

So, what’s love got to do with it?

Simply everything.

Thinking Points

In what ways am I tempted to value certain gifts, accomplishments, knowledge or opinions more than love?

When I am confronted with people who think, believe or act differently than I do, do I lean on active patience and kindness or do I fall back on something else?

Since love is eternal, how should that reshape the way I prioritize my relationships today?

React to this statement. Not everyone who loves is Christian, but every Christian should love? What does it say about our priorities?

Where might God be calling me to put love’s hands and feet into action this week?