The Searcher…

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?

The Word Became Flesh

Focal Passages: Luke 2:1-14; John 1:1-14

There is no expectant mother traveling to a distant village.

No Bethlehem.

No inn, crowded or otherwise.

There are no shepherds tending their sheep in the fields.

No angels proclaiming good news and glad tidings.

There is no star. No wise men from the east.

There is no baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes and asleep in a manger.

That’s Luke’s story to tell.

When he wrote his gospel, John takes the Bible’s Christmas story to a different level, focusing not on the earthly scene, but on the eternal reality it represents. The first Chapter of John tells the Christmas story from heaven’s viewpoint.

While Matthew and Luke describe how and where Jesus was born, John explains who Jesus was and is: the eternal Word…the Creator…the Light entering darkness…God becoming flesh.

John tells us about the one who came into the world to give us the right to become children of God.

If Matthew and Luke give us the method by which Jesus came to live among us, John shares the divine meaning and purpose behind the baby in a manger. He tells us why. It is no less a Christmas story than the one that will be repeated a million times in the days to come.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. (John 1:1-3)

It’s difficult for finite minds like ours to grasp the true nature of God. John sees the one he calls “the Word” not as an idea or thought, but as the living expression of God himself. The Word did not observe creation from a distance. The same hands that formed the stars would be wrapped in human flesh, grasping the offered forefinger of his mother. The voice that spoke with such clarity as it spoke the universe into existence, would cry in hunger in the middle of the night.

John viewed Jesus as the word of God. God’s revealed word. Present as God and with God from the time before creation.

Christmas is not merely the story of a baby being born—that happens every day. Christmas is the story of the Creator choosing to identify with you and me in every way. Choosing to draw near to his creation, not in the magnificent and extraordinary, but in the mundane and ordinary. The Word chose to come quietly and humbling, as a child.

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to his own town to register. So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem, the town of David, because he belong to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. (Luke 2:1-5)

An emperor’s powerful decree set history in motion, another phase of God’s ordained and eternal plan. The dusty roads of Galilee and Judea brought a young couple on the path of ancient prophecy. Not human administration, but divine orchestration.

Bethlehem, a small, easily overlooked village, would become the agent of God’s purpose. The Word who shaped time and space, now entered it. A heavenly throne morphed into a manger.

While they were there the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. (Luke 2:6-7)

No trumpet sounded. No palace gates opened. No one rolled out the red carpet. The Son of God arrived in silent wonder. The Word rested where animals fed. Swaddled in soft and simple cloth, held by the trembling arms of a first-time mother. The world he made had no room for him. His creation failed to recognize his presence.

Heaven, however, watched closely every moment. Heard every cry that echoed with the sound of redemption. Light had entered the darkness.

In him was life, and that life was the light of all men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it. The true light that gives light to every person was coming into the world. He was in the world , and though to the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. (John 1:4-5,9-10)

A child was born. He arrived as light and life. Where sin cast its long shadow, he brought truth. Where fear held sway, he brought hope. Where death claimed victory, he brought life.

Shrouded in darkness, the world did not welcome him, but it could not extinguish the light. Heaven chose to amplify it.

That Light arrived not in palaces or courts…not as a gift for kings or a performance limited to the world’s elite. No. It arrived in fields beneath the open sky, announced to unassuming shepherds working in the fields.

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks by night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” Suddenly, a great company of the heavenly hosts appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

Glory to God in the highest,
And on earth peace to men
on whom his favor rests.”
(Luke 2:8-14)

While the world slept, heaven danced. While the earth remained deaf to the Word, the angels sang. Hear God tell you the same thing he told the shepherds. “Do not be afraid.” Celebrate the good news. Embrace the joy God offers all of us. A savior has been born…Christ the Lord. When your heart’s darkness gets driven out by the light, you can give glory to God. You can find the peace God that only comes from becoming a child of God.

Yet to all who received him, those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God…The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only who came from the father, full of grace and truth. (John 1:11-12,14)

On that night in Bethlehem, grace lay in a manger and truth had a heartbeat. God entered our world to live as we live. To experience what we experience. To show us how to live. To be the Word and Light.

The baby with no permanent place to stay came to bring us home with him. To embrace us as his children.

The Christmas story as told by Luke and amplified by John is the penultimate chapter in what Archbishop Fulton Sheen called “the greatest story every told.” A story culminated with Jesus’ sacrificial death and resurrection. It is God’s gift to you and me.

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. (John 3:16)

Author’s Note

The world needs Christmas. I hope you find the time to ease the frenetic pace to a slow walk with family and friends. Set aside the worry and the uncertainty and enjoy the moment. I pray that you experience those quieter moments this holiday season.

The world needs Christmas. Not the tinsel and the trees, but the peace and goodwill about which the angels sang. This year may God give you a genuine sense of his presence and his love not just on Christmas morning every day thereafter. May realizing his presence and love bring you and yours his peace and goodwill.

Merry Christmas!

Thinking Points

John presents Christmas from heaven’s perspective, less about the person of Jesus and more about his purpose. How does viewing Jesus as the eternal Word change the way you understand the meaning of Christmas in your own life?

 

“The world did not recognize him.” In what ordinary, quiet, or unexpected ways might Christ be present today that you are tempted to overlook or ignore?

 

The angels announced peace to those on whom God’s favor rests. What fears or burdens might you need to release this Christmas in order to truly find the peace Jesus came to bring?

The Prophets’ Christmas

Focal Passage: Isaiah 7:14 & 9:6-7; and Micah 5:2-5

It’s the Christmas season. The time when God stepped into the world with love, grace, humility and hope.

Through the years, I’ve written about Christmas from every angle and angel. I’ve studied the coming of the Messiah through the eyes of his earthly parents, the shepherds, the magi, and paranoid Herod, a priest name Simon and an elderly, devout woman named Anna. I’ve even written a more fanciful piece about the birth of Jesus from the eyes of a lamb.

As I looked to begin my study this year of the moment God sent his son into the world, I want to look at that moment from the eyes of the Old Testament prophets.

Scripture teaches that the moment God opted to grant humanity free will, he knew we would use that freedom to rebel against his plan for our lives. From the beginning of time, then, God had to find a way to bring his lost children back to him, despite the spiritual abyss we would create between us and God by our sinfulness. Before he put the world in place and set it spinning on its axis, he planned on Jesus.

Look at what Paul tells Timothy.

He has saved us and called us to a holy life—not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. The grace was given to us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time, but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our savior Christ Jesus who has destroyed death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. (2 Timothy 1:9)

Redemption was not an afterthought or a Plan B. It was purposeful and intentional. Therefore, God needed to convince us of our need for him and introduce to us the one he would send to show us the way home.

Enter the prophets. As God gave them words to speak, he wove through their prophecies a thread of redemptive hope with its beginnings in a Bethlehem manger.

The prophets lived centuries apart from one another. They lived amid completely different circumstances. Led different lives. Wrote in different eras. Served up judgment on a platter to different kings. They spoke God’s word of divine judgment, repentance and restoration to different generations.

Much like the blind men discovering an elephant, each prophet understood God’s Anointed One in part, but never in whole.

They never met Mary or shook the hand of Joseph. They never heard the angels sing. They never walked the streets of Bethlehem. They never felt the joy the shepherds felt. Never marveled alongside the magi. Never held the baby in their arms. Never saw what they foretold come to pass.

Yet, thanks to a revelation from God’s spirit, they all pointed in somewhat different ways to the same moment; to the same someone. They saw who he would be. Knew what he would do. Understood the titles he would carry. They all spoke of Jesus, even when they never knew his name.

And on the night Jesus was born, their words—scattered across centuries—were suddenly fulfilled in the form of a swaddled infant, in the outskirts of an obscure village, in a makeshift crib filled with hay.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. (John 1:14)

That moment began the fulfillment of every prophetic word spoken for hundreds of years prior to that first Christmas morning.

Isaiah’s Whisper

The prophet Isaiah’s prophetic message almost 750 years before the birth of Jesus came at a time of national fear. His people faced a looming and hostile invasion, political collapse and spiritual confusion. In that sense, Isaiah’s words feel like a quiet voice spoken in a dark moment. Almost a whisper carried to people who were afraid of and unsure about the future.

While he warned of judgment and called for repentance, he promised that God had not forgotten them. He shared with them the hope of the Messiah and the arrival of the kingdom of God. Isaiah spoke about a miraculous moment in time.

A virgin will conceive and bear a son; and they will call his name Immanuel. (Isaiah 7:14)

God’s message through Isaiah didn’t stop there, as if the miraculous birth was the climax of the Creator’s eternal work. God revealed to his prophet another nuanced layer.

To us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom establishing it and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this. (Isaiah 9:6-7)

Isaiah’s prophecies waited for more than seven centuries. On the night of Jesus’ birth, his words were no longer ink on faded parchment. His words were a baby, born to a faithful carpenter and young woman whose heart found favor with God.

Micah’s Confidence

The prophetic ministries of Isaiah and Micah overlapped in time and circumstance. Micah saw the same corruption in Jerusalem. Felt the same fear of an Assyrian invasion. Yet, he confidently condemned the injustice he saw among leaders and spoke of the pending judgment upon a people who had turned their backs on God.

He stood in the gap and told the people that, despite the hardships to come, God promised a future ruler from Bethlehem who would be their good shepherd and herald a time of peace. This “messianic hope” appears especially in Micah 5:2–5, spoken as reassurance that God would raise a true king after Israel’s failed leadership. Look at the words God gave him to speak.

But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from the old and ancient times. He will stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God. And they will live securely, for then his greatness will reach the ends of the earth. And he will be our peace… (Micah 5:2, 4-5)

For generations, the small and unimpressive village of Bethlehem sat unnoticed in the Judean hillside, but God, 700 years before, had written its future. Bethlehem would play a role in God’s plan through the cries of an unlikely king and the redemptive work of Jesus Christ.

Though many other prophets shared God’s word about the ministry and mission of the coming Messiah, Isaiah and Micah are the only two who described details of his birth. Did any of these prophets fully understand the whole picture? I doubt it.

Do you remember when Jesus sent his disciples throughout Galilee, telling them they would be given power to preach and to heal in his name? They returned from that first century mission trip amazed how God had used their preaching and ministry to bring salvation to so many people.

After praying a prayer of gratitude to the Father for the work they had done, Jesus, filled with joy, pulled his disciples aside. Listen to what he told them.

Then he turned to his disciples and said privately, “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. For I tell you that many prophets and kings wanted to see what you see, but did not see it; to hear what you hear but did not hear it. (Luke 10:23-24)

So, if the prophets never saw or heard the whole picture, why do they matter? Why do the partial images they revealed about Jesus’ birth and life and death and resurrection matter to you and me on this side of that first Christmas?

It matters because Christmas is not an isolated event. It is the beginning of the rest of the story.

Every promise—
every symbol—
every sacrifice—
every prophecy—
every hope—

pointed toward Bethlehem and Immanuel, God with us.

The prophets did not live to see it, but you have. Listen to John’s words again.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.

Then, look again at the words of Jesus.

Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. Blessed are the ears that hear what you hear.

You see, Isaiah’s world was not a lot different from our own. Hostility. Political uncertainty. Spiritual confusion. His words still feel like a quiet whisper spoken in a dark moment to people unsure of the future.
His message does not change.

To you a child is born. To you a son is given.

Can you see it? Can you hear it?

That’s Christmas!

If you are a believer in Christ, the prophets words link the past to your present. God’s promises are your truth. They are confirmation of God’s plan of redemption through the baby in a manger who grew to be your substitute on a cross–the living and resurrected Jesus. You are blessed to have seen what you have seen and heard what you heard.

If your Christmas lacks the meaning you see in those who believe, the visions of the prophets are your markers. The waypoints on a spiritual journey that will reveal the depth of God’s love for you in the truth of Jesus Christ. The promises of the prophets are fulfilled in Jesus. Their longing can be your joy as it is mine. See it. Hear it. Your blessing awaits.

Let this be our Christmas prayer for 2025.

“Lord, thank you for speaking through the prophets and for fulfilling every promise in Jesus. Let the hope that sustained them also sustain me. Teach me to trust your timing and rejoice that your Word always becomes flesh. Amen.”

Thinking Points

How does thinking about Christmas through the voices of the prophets deepen your understanding of God’s long-planned redemption?

 

How has the Word “become flesh” in your personal story? In what ways has that baby in a manger changed your heart and your world view?

 

What keeps me from recognizing the blessings I already “see and hear,” blessings the prophets longed for but never experienced?

 

How might embracing the continuity between the prophets’ longing and Christ’s coming reshape the way I enter this Christmas season?

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?

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?

You Are God’s Workmanship

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 two weeks ago. Now that the system has been fixed, I am reposting upon request. –KL

Focal Passage: Ephesians 2:10

Antonio Stradivari began crafting violins, cellos and violas in the late 1660s in Cremona, Italy. His techniques and varnishes produced instruments known for their powerful, resonant and balanced tones. Musicians since the early 18th century consider the Stradivarius (or Strad) as masterpieces of musical craftsmanship, the gold standard of stringed instruments.

While several hundred of these remarkable instruments exist today in the hands of collectors and museums and top performers, they are worth millions.

Polish-born Roman Totenberg, a Polish-born child prodigy, emigrated to the United States in 1937, where he built his career as a celebrated violinist, teacher and performer. In 1980, while a teacher at the Longy School of Music in Cambridge, MA, Totenberg’s prized Stradivarius, crafted by the master in 1734, was stolen from his office. It remained “lost” for over 30 years. Never played. Never heard. Its music lost for a time.

Totenberg’s Strad was recovered in 2015. Despite its years of disuse, once restored, the violin’s sound was revived. Mira Wang, a former pupil of Totenberg played the instrument in its first public concert following its restoration.  Concert reviews noted that Wang struggled to find the musical “fit” with the instrument. One article quoted a familiar idea among musicians that great instruments have distinct personalities and can be “tricky” until a player and instrument are perfectly matched.

That concept of musical fit runs parallel, I think, with faith and good works.  Many Christians, myself included at various times of my life, feel a disconnect with our faith and our actions. It’s not that we’re doing bad things necessarily. It’s just that we’re not doing much good either. We’re comfortable accepting God’s grace and doing little or nothing with it.

We’re either comfortable being a lost violin or we feel like the ill-matched musician, struggling to find where we fit in God’s work.

Let me explain what I mean from one of my favorite passages in Ephesians. Paul spent a great deal of time in Ephesians 2 talking about God’s gift of grace. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works so that no one can boast.

Salvation comes by grace through faith. We’ve done nothing to earn it. Theologian William Barclay said, “All the good works in the world cannot put us right with God.”

Once we have been made right with God, Barclay said, “there is something radically wrong with the Christianity which does not issue in good works.” In other words, this unmerited act of grace should propel us to do good works as a natural outgrowth of our relationship with Christ.

Paul said as much in his next breath and it’s this passage that spoke again to me this week.

For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:10)

Let’s break this down a bit.

We are God’s handiwork. His masterpiece. Created with purpose and design.

What a remarkable thing to understand! The Greek work translated “workmanship” comes from the Greek “poiema,” rich in its definition. Though it literally means, “a thing made,” you can find a hint of its intent in a beautiful poem, an artistic masterpiece, or even a Stradivarius.

Think about that. A poet, composer or master craftsman doesn’t just haphazardly slap words or notes on a page or glue strips of wood together. Instead, ever detail is deliberately designed and crafted with care and purpose. Each poem, each song, each instrument unique in form and function.

So, it is with you and me. Every aspect of our lives, our personalities, talents, circumstances, our growth as spiritual beings, stands as a testimony of God’s divine composition. His craftsmanship. When the Psalmist declares that we are “fearfully and wonderfully made,” he’s not just talking about the intricacies of our physical bodies. He’s talking about the totality of us. Everything we are now or have the potential of being is crafted within us, just waiting to be released.

As inspiring as that ought to be, think beyond God’s workmanship in us. The next phrase in our passage adds a deep layer of meaning to our personal and spiritual identity. When we are saved by faith, God creates us once more in Christ Jesus.

Our physical creation is of God and by God, but we are remade spiritually in Christ…his life, death and resurrection. We become a new creation through the grace of God and our faith and trust in his son. This isn’t just a refinement or improvement. It is a new spiritual reality. The limitations of the past give way to godly potential.

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

Being God’s workmanship in Christ Jesus transforms our ordinary human potential into purpose-driven alignment with God’s will and plan for our lives. It isn’t about existing; it’s about fulfilling a calling. If and when we tap into that source in Christ, we are empowered to do the work of Christ.

So, what are we called to do? Paul said it:

…to do good works which God prepared in advance for us to do.

This is where we find the “fit.” We will never be fully content and satisfied in life until we are being obedient to this purpose for us.  Until we are doing the good works he ordained us to do from the very beginning of time.

God’s plan for you and me to do good works existed before he put the first stars in place. He created us to reflect his purpose and his will as adopted sons and daughters through Jesus Christ. He planned from the beginning for each of us to do good works simply as a part of who we are and whose we are. It is not a prerequisite for salvation, but a result of it.

If our lives do not serve others nor serve the cause of Christ, we’re like the poem never read, the painting never seen or the priceless violin never played.

The value of a masterpiece lies in its uniqueness. If the musicians are to be believed, every Stradivarius has a distinct character that must be paired with the right musician to find its tone or voice.

Though a virtuoso in her own right, Wang struggled to make her style and approach fit with Totenberg’s violin. Later, the same violin was placed on loan with Juilliard violinist Nathan Metzler. Commentators and dealers noted the violin’s strong voice, praising its “amazing power and sweetness” once in the hands of a player who could draw that sound out.

Each us of has been uniquely gifted with talents and abilities to serve his kingdom. Finding purpose doesn’t always mean making grand plans or taking bold actions. It means something as simple as living faithfully every day. Ensuring that our actions and words reflect God’s love whether at home, work, in our families and our neighborhoods. Whether among friends or those we hardly know.

If you’re struggling with what “good works” you’re supposed to do, you’re probably being too technical. Good works are less about the act and more about the attitude that generates the act.

Scripture tells us that good works are outward actions that flow from an inward faith and relationship with God. Don’t think specifically of feeding the hungry or helping the sick, though our good works may manifest themselves in exactly that. Think kindness, patience, love, gentleness, peace, joy and self-control motivating the things we do for others. Think Jesus.

True good works are done in obedience to God’s word, through the power of the Holy Spirit, and for the glory of God rather than self. Every act points toward God.

Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify the Father in Heaven. (Matthew 5:16)

That’s not all. Our good works, our acts of mercy, justice and compassion, equate to obedience to the teachings of Christ born out of our love for him and gratitude for his atoning sacrifice. John 14:15 tells us we obey his teachings that lead to good works because we love him.

The good news about good works is that in the goodness of God, his spirit empowers us to act. We don’t have to do any of it in our own power. It is God working through us. We just need to make ourselves available to be used and get out of his way.

For it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose. (Philippians 2:13)

My uncle Les Lewis posted his daily devotional last week about faith, but he said something that I think applies here, too. He wrote, “When faith is God behaving in me, my potential is as great as God is great.” God behaving in me. That seems the very definition of “good works,” granting us the potential to make a real difference in the lives of those we encounter.

While our gifts are unique and God fits our gifts with his purpose, working to do good is most effective when done together. When our unique gifts blend in service. In his letter to Titus, Paul encouraged this young minister to ensure that he and those he served worked together to help others.

And I want you to stress these things, so that those who have trusted in God may be careful to devote themselves to doing what is good. These things are excellent and profitable for everyone. (Titus 3:8)

Our good works get magnified when we work in concert with other believers. As Christians we are meant to help each other grow in love and in the work we do for Christ. Walking alongside one another we learn to love better, forgive more, serve selflessly, each using the unique gifts God grants us. Every good deed encourages another.

The writer of Hebrews said almost the same thing.

Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another… (Hebrews 10:24-25)

Like the Totenberg Stradivarius, our lives and our faith may at times fall silent or out of tune with the purposes of God and the work he calls us to do. God is not only the craftsman that designed us with purpose, he is the virtuoso who plays with “amazing power and sweetness” when we allow him to work in and through us.

If you or I are not yet demonstrating the good work for which he created us, know this. Each one of us, every believer, can be restored, renewed, and brought back to life in him. God, the divine craftsman, not only created us as His workmanship but continues to shape and refine us through His Spirit so that His melody of grace can resonate through our lives, demonstrating his love through our good works.

In the end, we are not meant to sit unused or hidden away. He made us to be instruments of His grace in a life of good works. Now, we just have to let him draw the bow across our strings.

Thinking Points

In what ways might you feel like an “unplayed violin” in your faith journey—and what would it take to let God bring your purpose to life again?

 

How does understanding yourself as God’s workmanship change the way you see your daily actions and choices?

 

What “good works” has God already placed before you that may simply require your willingness to act?

 

How can you better align your unique gifts and temperament with God’s purposes so that his “music” flows naturally through you?

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?