The Searcher…

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?

Rooted

Focal Passage: Colossians 2:2-7

While visiting California years ago, my wife and I visited the Sequoia National Park, walking among those magnificent redwoods towering toward the sky. After growing up among the mesquite trees on the South Plains of Texas, those trees inspired awe and reverence in God’s amazing creation.

The National Park Service believes the 275-foot tall President’s Tree in the park is among the oldest trees in the world, estimated to be more than 3,200 years old. That means when the President’s Tree sprouted as a seedling, Israel had no king, Samson fought his battles with the Philistines, and God was actively preparing the stage for Samuel, Saul and David.

You probably knew that sequoias don’t have a tap root. Their roots rarely go deeper than 10-12 feet, but they spread as far as 150 feet or more in every direction in search of water and nutrients, intertwining with the root systems of the trees growing around them. It is this interlocking root system that gives them strength, enabling them to stand strong through the centuries despite wind or storm.

Paul would have enjoyed knowing about these redwoods. It would have provided another great illustration to use as he wrote to the churches in Asia Minor.

No firm record exists that the apostle Paul ever personally visited Colossae. The apostle sent Epaphras, his recent convert and companion, to Colossae to preach and teach the gospel in what was likely Epaphras’ hometown.

By the time Paul sent his letter to believers in this once prominent city, the church was already being pressured by false teachers and even well-meaning individuals who misunderstood Paul’s teachings about Christ. Paul intended his letter as an encouragement for the believers in Colossae to stay grounded in the gospel they were taught. Hear his words.

My goal is that they may be encouraged in heart and united in love, so that they may have full riches of complete understanding, in order that they may know the mystery of God, namely Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of hidden wisdom and knowledge. I tell you this so no one may deceive you by fine sounding arguments. For though I am absent from you in body, I am present with you in spirit, and delight to see how disciplined you are and how firm your faith in Christ is. (Colossians 2:2-5)

It is what he wrote next that captured my attention.

So, then just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to walk in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. (Colossians 2:6-7)

Paul gave the believers in Colossae a lot to think about in these two verses. Everything it implied to those first century believers applies equally to any 21st century believer in Christ.

Colossian believers received Jesus as Lord through faith alone, not by adding rituals, Greek philosophy or Jewish legalism to the good news they heard proclaimed. He urged them to continue in faith as they were taught when they first received Christ. He implored them to not muddy the waters with things that have no foundation in Christ Jesus.

Depending on the Bible translation you use, Paul told them to keep on “walking” or “living” in Christ every day. The Hebrew word halak, translated here as walk, stands as a metaphor for one’s daily life. In other words, Paul warned them not to add or subtract from their daily walk in Christ some philosophical or mystical experience taught by those trying to draw them away from the faith they first experienced in Jesus.

This idea of walking in Christ reminds us that the way we choose to live—every decision, every thing we do–should flow from our growing relationship with Jesus, rather than from outside influences or teachings of those wanting to adjust the gospel to make it more comfortable or appealing to the world. Let truth, but the truth, Paul might declare. While many in the world might consider the Christian walk limiting, Paul found it liberating.

Paul frequently talked about dying to self in some of his other letters…this idea of a believer in Christ setting aside life unbecoming and less fulfilling for the life to which we’ve been called in Christ. He just a few sentences later in Colossians 3:2-3, Paul wrote,

Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died (to your old life), and your life is now hidden (secured and protected) with Christ in God.

What the world offered compared poorly with what Paul felt he gained with Christ.

For whatever were gains to me I consider loss for the sake of Christ…I consider them garbage that I might gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ. (Philippians 3:7-9)

If Paul knew about those mighty redwoods in California, he might have drawn from that knowledge to clarify his next words.

Continue to walk in him, rooted and built up in him.

Think about this. In order to grow to its impressive size, a giant sequoia every day takes in about 800 gallons of water and a steady supply of nutrients primarily through its expansive root system. To be rooted is to be fed and nourished.

However, its strength comes from its connection with other trees, by interweaving its roots with the roots of other nearby sequoias. A sequoia could not survive in isolation. The interlocking system of roots prevent it from being toppled in a storm.

Being rooted in our faith carries two distinct meanings for me.

We are to be rooted in the gospel. Our spiritual nourishment comes only when we study God’s word and spend time with him in prayer, seeking his wisdom and understanding in how he wants us to act and react to life. Being soundly rooted in the teachings of Christ enables us to live fully nourished and strong in the face of every foul wind and storm life throws our way.

We need to realize our need for belonging to a community of faith. We can study and pray and never walk into a place of worship, but I don’t believe we will ever be as strong in our faith as we can be if we practice our faith in isolation.

When we try to live our faith without the presence of other believers in our lives, without the fellowship of the church, we risk losing our grip on faith’s foundation when the next big storm arrives. We need to intertwine our faith roots with the roots of our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Faith was never meant to be a solitary walk. Faith grows in the connection with other like-minded believers. This connection holds us up in our times of greatest need.

I know in my own life the church, my church, provides strength, stability and endurance when I need it most. If you’re not present in worship and Bible study on a regular basis you miss out on the strength gained from others who have walked the same road you’re walking, even those who managed to avoid it in the first place.

When we belong to a community of believers, we are not only more rooted in our faith, we’re “built up in him,” as Paul said. I learn a lot in my personal reading when I read and study scripture. God always teaches a new thought or reinforces my study when I listen to my pastor’s sermons. When I’m open to the spirit’s teaching and guidance while in corporate worship. When studying or discussing the Bible with fellow believers. When watching my spiritual heroes live out their faith walk with Christ in the face of life’s challenges and uncertainties.

Paul even affirmed that thought when he encouraged the Colossian church to be “strengthened in the faith as you were taught.” Being rooted and built up in Christ and his church gives me strength to endure. It sustains me in troubled times. It allows me to grow deeper in my faith and relationship with Christ. I thrive on my connection with Christ and those who believe so strongly in him.

This connection is something I pray I never lose and something I desire for my family. Aside to salvation itself, this connection would be the greatest blessing he gives anyone.

Let me encourage you. Since you received Christ as Lord by faith, keep living each day in his footsteps, modeling the things you do and say in the pattern of Christ. Let your roots continue to seek the spiritual nourishment that delving into his word always provides.

Connect yourself with a local congregation of believers. Find a place to worship where they will build and strengthen your faith. Actively join that fellowship of believers in praise, worship and Bible study. I promise it will make a difference in your life just as it has in mine.

Paul added one final word of advice to the church in Colossae at the end of our passage. He encouraged them to overflow with thankfulness. Not just to be thankful, but to overflow. Letting our gratitude to God spill over into our worship, our walk and our witness.

The call to overflow with thankfulness connects deeply with the foundational principles of discipleship and spiritual growth. When we are firmly established in our faith and in Christ, we more easily see his work in our lives—in our salvation, the guidance of his spirit, his daily provision. Gratitude naturally follows.

It is this gratitude that shapes our perspective in difficult times, reminding us that God is at work even in our suffering.

Rejoice always, pray continually and give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in all circumstances. (I Thessalonians 3:18)

As we let our gratitude overflow, make this be our prayer.

May our faith roots be as broad as the redwood, nourishing our souls and transforming us into the mirror image of Christ himself. Connect us more tightly to a community of believers to teach and strengthen us. Through it all, make us more like Jesus in a world that desperately needs to see his face in us.

Thinking Points

1. In what ways are your spiritual “roots” nourished daily, and where might you need to seek deeper connection with Christ through Scripture and prayer?

 

2. Paul emphasizes being “rooted and built up in Christ” while staying true to the gospel. In what areas of your life might outside influences be subtly reshaping your walk with Christ?

 

3. How does your relationship with other believers strengthen or challenge your faith, and are there ways you could cultivate more meaningful spiritual connections?

 

4. How often do you intentionally cultivate gratitude in your life, and how could a practice of “overflowing thankfulness” transform your perspective on daily struggles or blessings?

What Will You Ask For?

Focal Passage: I Kings 3:5-12

I was in elementary school the first time I heard about King Midas. Mrs. Wallace, my third-grade teacher, introduced this piece of classical Greek literature to her class of farm kids.

If you recall the story, after extending kindness to one of Dionysus’ servants, the Greek god granted King Midas one wish.

Midas asked that everything he touched would turn to gold. It was a great wish as long as he touched a pile of stones or a palace wall. It was less desirable when he touched a rose or the turkey leg on his plate. It became a horrible curse when his daughter rushed to him in excitement and wrapped him in a hug. Just like the stones and the turkey leg, she, too, turned to gold.

While the story turned out okay in the end, Mrs. Wallace reminded us of the dangers of greed and pride. Then, as if we might find someone willing to grant us anything we wished, she told us to be careful what we ask for. She said it with such mystery in her voice, I don’t think I asked a question of any kind for the rest of that semester.

Midas wasn’t the only one to be granted a wish. It turns out that King Solomon faced a similar decision one night when God, the creator of the universe, came to him in a dream.

King Solomon spent the day offering sacrifices and incense in worship to God. In his exhaustion, he laid down to sleep. At some point in the night God spoke to him in a dream and asked that important question.

Look at I Kings 3:5.

Ask for whatever you want me to give you.

Solomon began with his heart in the right place. He responded to the blank check God offered to write by acknowledging that God had already done so much. He thought of God’s faithfulness and his promises to his father David. He thought about the joy of being David’s son and watching him serve as King of Israel.

Then Solomon got more personal with is gratitude that God had worked through circumstances to make Solomon king.

There is something innocent and intentional in his gratitude to God. Solomon recognizes he is where he is because God is faithful. That God, in his mercy and grace, did as he promised to David and to his people. By acknowledging God’s grace, Solomon expresses what is in his heart. Notice, though, that the grace Solomon senses is not the common grace God extends to all his creation. It is deeply personal.

Solomon, born to David and Bathsheba, was a child born of adultery, abuse of power and murder. Knowing how his life started, Solomon understands that his elevation as king is a clear act of God’s mercy and grace. Solomon knows where he is and who he is only because of God’s grace.

That’s when Solomon proved himself a wiser king than Midas. Look at I Kings 3:7-9. His thoughts express his gratitude.

Now, O Lord, my God, you have made your servant king in place of my father David. But I am only a little child and do not know how to carry out my duties. Your servant is here among the people you have chosen, a great people, too numerous to count or number.

Solomon was given an opportunity of a lifetime. Knowing it was within God’s power to grant, Solomon could go full bore Midas, asking that anything he touched might turn to gold. He could ask for immortality. He could ask for great victories in every battle, building a reputation to be feared and a powerful empire that no one could conquer.

Instead, in a moment of clarity and self-awareness, Solomon shared his vulnerability. He humbled himself before God, acknowledging that the situation overwhelmed him. The burden of leading God’s people weighed heavy on his shoulders and his spirit. Solomon realized his youth and inexperience could be a problem. Setting aside the pride that often comes with kingship, he understood his need for guidance as he governed God’s people.

At that point Solomon gets around to answering God’s question.

So give your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong. For who is able to govern this great people of yours? (I Kings 3:9)

Solomon prays for wisdom and a listening heart. There isn’t a modicum of selfishness in the request. It’s not wisdom for wisdom’s sake. It’s not that he wants to be known as a wise king. His concern is for those he rules. That his own actions would reflect God’s will for Solomon and for God’s people.

When Solomon asks God for a discerning heart, he is asking for the ability to distinguish between good and evil, truth and error. To see what is helpful and not harmful. His request involves deep insight, moral sensitivity and spiritual wisdom. Rather than just knowing stuff, Solomon desires wisdom that transcends knowledge.

It’s the kind of wisdom that comes from God alone into a heart that is grateful, humble and focused on doing the will of God as he leads.

I studied this story recently as I prepared to teach my Bible Study class at South Main Baptist Church in Pasadena. Something about the passage caused it to keep resurfacing in my thoughts as if there might be something more I needed to learn. So, I spent some time looking again at the story.

The first thing that struck me this time was that God initiated the conversation during Solomon’s dream. Solomon had yet to voice his insecurities. Unsure if he had the ability to lead God’s people effectively, Solomon surely fretted over every decision. Doubting himself. Second guessing every call he made. Yet, he kept those thoughts to himself.

God, who certainly knew Solomon’s angst and fears, extended an invitation to the king he anointed. In essence, “Ask for whatever you want me to give you.”

Think about that for a second in a broader context that encompasses you and me. God wants to give us what we need to be the person he called us to be. It’s his fervent desire. So much so that he stands ready to provide what we need even before we know to ask for it.

It’s as if he’s telling you and me. “I’m here. I’m ready to help. I sense your struggle. Tell me what you need from me.” I find that both stunning and almost unimaginable!

It’s not that God doesn’t know what we need and is just waiting for us enlighten him. It is that he’s wanting us to reflect honestly on who we are, where we are in life and what we need from God to become the person he wants and needs us to be.

So, the passage tells me that God, in his generosity and grace, approaches his people eager to give us what we need.

Jesus encouraged his disciples with a similar thought. Once, after his disciples were so moved by Jesus’ prayer, they asked him to teach them how to pray as he did. He gave them a example to follow and then he said something that echoes what God shared with Solomon.

So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds and to him who knocks, the door will be opened. (Luke 9-10)

But, he didn’t stop there. Jesus, with, I suspect, a playful gleam in his eye and a giggle on his lips, went on to explain that God, like any good father, wants to say yes to our requests if he can.

Which of you fathers if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg will give him a scorpion. If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your father in heaven give the Holy Spirt to those who ask him! (Luke 11:11-13)

I don’t know whether the parallel is intentional, but it connected with me. See if this makes sense to you.

Jesus is promising a gift from God greater than anything else he could give us. “How much more will your father in heaven give the Holy Spirit.” That’s God in us. Always. His thoughts. His guidance. His counsel. His wisdom. Available to us if we only open our hearts and listen.

Now look at what God grants Solomon.

The Lord was pleased that Solomon had asked for this. God said to him, “Since you have asked for this and not for a long life or wealth for yourself, nor have asked for the death of your enemies, but for discernment in administering justice, I will do what you have asked. I will give you a wise and discerning heart so that there will never have been anyone like you, nor will there ever be.” (I Kings 3:10-12)

Is it a stretch to believe that the wisdom to discern and administer justice grows from the work of the Holy Spirit in our lives? The spirit of God within us who is our counselor enables us to listen with the ears of God, to act as his hands and feet, to discern right from wrong with the heart of God?

Is seems to me that when Solomon asks for a discerning heart, when he asks for wisdom, he’s asking for God’s spirit to guide his every thought and deed in ways that honor God. And God grants that request, not just to Solomon, but to us when the spirit comes upon us at the moment we give our lives to Christ.

It is this spirit that offers the discernment and wisdom we need to live the life to which he has called us. We just have to break down all our self-created barriers that keep us from accessing the spirit to the fullest.

That’s really the second truth revealed in this passage in I Kings. It goes back to what Mrs. Wallace said. Be careful what you ask for.

It’s Solomon’s response to the blank check he had been given that defines the rest of the story. In response to God’s invitation, Solomon demolished those barriers by sharing openly what was on his mind.

None of us want to be vulnerable, much less show that side of us to the world around us. The king was no different in that regard than each of us. In this critical moment with God’s invitation hanging in the air, Solomon opened his heart to God with the kind of deep humility that only the truly overwhelmed can know.

Look how Eugene Peterson says it in The Message.

And now here I am: God, my god, you have made me, your servant, ruler of the kingdom in place of David my father. I’m too young for this, a mere child! I don’t know the ropes, hardly know the ins and outs of this job. Yet, here I am, set down in the middle of the people you’ve chosen…

In that moment, we’ve invaded the privacy of his mind where Solomon is alone with his thoughts. We see him, at his most vulnerable: lost in his role and admitting to God that he is helpless on his own.

When given the chance to ask for anything, Solomon chose a listening heart. He chose discernment and wisdom. Even in his fragile state, Solomon realizes that his role in God’s kingdom is not about power and might, it is about serving. It’s about leading with love and justice.

Solomon’s humble heart reminds me that I don’t have to know everything. Even if it’s only in my quiet self, I can acknowledge my vulnerabilities and lay them before God, instead of pretending I have it all figured out.

All I need is the spirit’s indwelling presence that imbues me with a heart that listens and discerns truth. A heart dependent upon the wisdom of God available through the spirit’s counsel.

It’s something James, the half-brother of Christ, reminds us about at the beginning of his letter to believers.

If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. (James 1:5)

So, the creator of the universe, our father, extends us the same invitation that he extended to Solomon. “Ask for whatever you want me to give you.”

What will you tell him?

Thinking Points

When God tells you, “Ask for whatever you need me to give you?” what is the first thing that comes to your mind? How honest and vulnerable are you willing to be?

How can you cultivate a heart that seeks wisdom and discernment over personal gain or comfort?

In what areas of life do you need to invite God’s indwelling spirit to guide your thoughts and decisions more fully?

What barriers keep you from hearing the spirit’s wisdom and guidance in your daily life?

Thinking About Forgiveness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, now? Are you thinking about forgiveness?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t know what he did to me.”

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

“They should suffer like they made me suffer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, I’m thinking about forgiveness.

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

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

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

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

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

Thinking Points

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

Search Me, O God!

Focal Passage: Psalm 139

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stunning! Absolutely amazing!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thinking Points

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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