An Un-celebrated Christmas

An Un-celebrated Christmas

I was reading up on some of the backgrounds of “The Messiah,” written by Handel, a performance that Jane and I attended recently. It was an exceptional presentation and I was surprised at the drama of it all, following the story of the birth of Jesus and His death and resurrection and His coming in glory. It is not really a Christmas story. It is a Jesus story, a Christ story, spanning from Incarnation to Glorification. 

So why is “The Messiah” performed mostly at Christmas? It seems that in London at one time, there was trouble getting up any enthusiasm for the Christmas holiday. Can you imagine? It was Christmas, and there was absolutely nothing going on. No decorations. No gift-giving. No parties. No Christmas music. So what did they do? They stole “The Messiah.”

I don’t know why Christmas wasn’t being celebrated, but I can hazard a couple of guesses. My first thought would be “no money.” It is hard to celebrate Christmas without money. Special gifts. Special clothes. Special meals. It costs a lot to make “special.” Of course, this answer runs crossgrain with the actual Christmas story. It appears Joseph and Mary scarcely had two denarii to rub together. All the essential elements of that first Christmas were heavenly gifts, given as true gifts are, free of charge: the angels; the star; oh, and the Child. All freely given, for free.

Now that I think about it, maybe money is one of the things that actually diminishes the true celebration of Christmas. We buy so much stuff that we have little time or attention for the wonders that have been given completely free of charge. Maybe the people back then, as now, had too much, and were otherwise preoccupied.

Another reason for “an uncelebrated Christmas” might be a loss of hope. Hope is lost when the promises are forgotten. Promises are forgotten when the Bible is not read and taken seriously. God had promised to Adam and Eve and Abraham a Seed; He had promised through Balaam a Star; He had promised to David a Son who would reign forever; He had promised to Isaiah “a child will be born, and a Son given.;” to Micah that the insignificant would prove to be great. But all of those promises are of little value to those who do not listen or heed, hell-bent as they are on, you know, un-celebrating Christmas.

Yes, in London, they needed “The Messiah” to help people focus on Christmas. And today? We need to focus on the Messiah.

An Open Heart leads to Open Pockets

 An Open Heart leads to Open Pockets

John doesn’t pull any punches:

1John 3:17 “But whoever has the world’s goods, and sees his brother in need and closes his heart against him, how does the love of God abide in him?”

Charity seems to abound during the Christmas season, and that’s a good thing. But let’s review just a bit the Biblical setting of this critical question from John to make sure we are thinking properly.

First of all, John is speaking more specifically in this passage about love of the “brothers.” I don’t believe this excludes “sisters,” but it definitely directs us to the care of believers and those who need help in the believing community. Most of the discussion of gifts and giving in the New Testament have the community of faith in mind. This is not to say that we should not give to those outside the faith. But we should remember the priority.

But more importantly, let’s notice the connection between our hearts and our pockets. The verse above does not reference the pocket, because the issue is the heart. Certainly a closed heart will result in a closed pocket. But we must also admit that, in our age of plenty, it is quite easy to share with others, even though our hearts may be rather closed. We can open our pockets for reasons other than having a truly generous heart, whether it be to salve the conscience, or impress other people.

These “brothers” are those around the world that we don’t know personally, but those with whom we are more closely related than any earthly relation. Think of that. You have a “brother” in Indonesia that you have not yet met, perhaps in great need, with whom you will spend eternity. Is your heart open, or closed?

The verse also mentions what we “have.” It does not say what we “own,” because, for the believer, everything we “have” is given as a stewardship, not for ownership. It is God’s gift to you to be used as God sees fit. It seems that having an open heart to God is connected to having an open heart to those of God’s people who have needs.

Finally, let me borrow from another passage and remind that true Christian generosity is not merely the sharing of leftovers, but is often sacrificial. In Mark 12:41-44, Jesus tells the story of the poor widow who gives “more” than the rich. It seems she had an open heart.

A Narrow Window

“But now for a brief moment grace has been shown from the LORD our God, to leave us an escaped remnant and to give us a peg in His holy place, that our God may enlighten our eyes and grant us a little reviving in our bondage.” (Ezra 9:8 NAS95)

A Narrow Window

The verse above begins with the words, “But now - for a brief moment - grace has been shown.” A narrow window of grace. Let us not miss this moment by drawing the curtains. Let us not waste this opportunity.

What were the circumstances threatening to close this window.?The text tells us: we are “an escaped remnant.” Against all odds and expectations, a small group of Israelites had returned to Jerusalem to rebuild the temple. Most others were dead or had assimilated into the (now) Persian culture to the east. Only a few were seeking to make the most of a momentary opportunity. Also, the text says, “to give us a peg.” What does that mean? It will hold only so long. We might say today, “We are hanging by a thread.”

And yet God brings into our lives opportunity to see the truth afresh in certain moments, but perhaps only at those certain moments. If you miss it, you may never see it again. A guide told our group in the UP that when we get to this ridge, shinny up the tree and look. None of us did. He said, “Well, then, you missed it.” Let’s not miss that glimpse of grace that God brings, unpredictably and unexpectedly.

There are narrow windows from which to see; narrow windows to believe. There are narrow windows to listen to a story that you will never hear again, or to speak a truth only when those ears are present and attuned. There is a time for a prayer that can be prayed at no other time; time for a deed that will only work right now or be lost forever. Lord, what do you have for me right now, in this brief moment, to see or say, to pray or to do. What in this brief moment of grace?

Perhaps the greatest sins exposed at the judgment seat for Christians are those missed opportunities because we have lived with such dulled, selfish and worldly senses. Paul says, “Conduct yourselves with wisdom toward outsiders, making the most of the opportunity” Col. 4:5. And, “So then, while we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, and especially to those who are of the household of the faith” Gal. 6:10.

The other phrase in our text above is this: “a little reviving.” God, in His grace, gives “a little reviving,” if we would receive it. We must be awake, not asleep; tuned in, not distracted; directed by the Spirit, not the flesh; open to God’s gracious entrance into our lives, and not considering it to be an interruption or intrusion. Thank you, Lord, for this narrow window of grace.

That for which I Am Not Thankful

That for which I Am Not Thankful

Paul says, “In everything, give thanks.” That sounds unreasonable. Is there anything for which we should not give thanks? Perhaps.

Let me clear the deck first. I’m a bit grumpy this morning about people coming late to the Christmas parade but still insisting on free parking in places that are not parking spaces, driving over snowplow stakes to get there. Yes, I’m having a little trouble being thankful for that one. But Paul, I’ll come around, I promise.

Maybe we can be thankful for things eternal, and not so much for things temporal. But that’s not right, is it? Many things that are part of our current blessings will “pass away.” It doesn’t mean that we should be too “spiritual” to give thanks for them.

I am not thankful for sin. Sin is not one of God’s blessings in this “passing away” world. But even here, it’s not that easy, because God uses sin and the lessons of sin and sin’s consequences to teach us a great many things. But we can be thankful for our God who can even use something that He hates for good.

I am not thankful for Satan. And yet, Satan is an integral part of the story of redemption. He is the foil against which the glory of Christ shines so brightly. Are we to be thankful for Satan? No. But Satan is indeed one of God’s creatures (not human, but angelic), now confirmed in opposition against God and jealous of His glory. But no, I’m not thankful for Satan.

I am not thankful for death? Well, almost. I am thankful or life, both physical life and spiritual. And, physical death is the portal through which the believer passes to eternal rest. And so death is often welcomed by the aged saint who desires to be in the presence of Jesus. But, Paul says “death is the last enemy that will abolished.” So perhaps I can say I am not thankful for eternal death, - but, it is ordained by God for those who have rejected Christ, and therefore even eternal death somehow contributes to the glory of God. So, that’s a hard one. Note these verses

Psa. 97:10  Hate evil, you who love the LORD, 

Who preserves the souls of His godly ones; 

He delivers them from the hand of the wicked.

¹¹ Light is sown like seed for the righteous 

And gladness for the upright in heart.

¹² Be glad in the LORD, you righteous ones, 

And give thanks to His holy name.

I am thankful for righteousness, and the gift of Christ’s righteousness. I am not thankful for evil. I think that is Biblical.

What Must I Do to be Saved? (Acts 16:31; 2:37)

 What Must I Do to be Saved? (Acts 16:31; 2:37)

When Peter preaches his first sermon upon receiving the gift of the Spirit, along with the other disciples, He preaches Christ, and Christ crucified, and Christ risen again. The question that is posed to him by the throngs is this: Acts 2:37 “Now when they heard this, they were pierced to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, “Brethren, what shall we do?” In light of this man named Jesus being both “Lord” and “Christ,” what shall we do?

When Paul and Silas are miraculously delivered from the bondage of prison’s chains and locked doors by a divine earthquake, the prison guard was set to take his life due to the prisoners’ escape. Paul stops him, and the man asks, “What must I do to be saved?” Whether Peter or Paul, and whether a large crowd, the answer to question is quite simple: Believe. Believe in/into/upon Jesus. Throw yourself upon Him because of His sacrifice for you, and because of the mercy that He promises to show those who call upon Him.

Isn’t it really quite simple? We go through life trying this, that, and the other thing - all for naught. We fail to find the meaning for which we are searching, the purpose, the happiness, the satisfaction. All those things are elusive as we try and find for ourselves the key that unlocks what is behind the doors that we cannot find.

But to dive into Christ, so much so that we are immersed in Him (if I can let my Baptist bias slip in a bit), that seems to be last thing, the hardest thing for us to do. Why? Because we want to do it ourselves. We want to do it our way. We find ourselves to be theologically committed to self-salvation.

It is not that we have tried too hard. It is that we have not tried hard enough. If we had supremely struggled to achieve these things and acceptance with God, we would have more quickly come to the end of ourselves. But we live in a culture of half-hearted searching, distracted from the search to look at our phones or go shopping or watch a game. If we had honestly and zealously pursued self-salvation, we would perhaps have found “the last resort” more quickly.

Those gathered around Peter in Jerusalem as he preached were there because they were serious - seriously seeking God through slavish obedience to the Law. And they found that they could not. They needed someone other than themselves to be their Savior. That prison guard in Philippi was trying to have a good life for himself and his family as a prison guard - faithful; hard-working; honest. But the Roman government could not provide that for which his soul yearned. Until, finally, Paul answered his question: “What must I do to be saved?” And, he believed.

Who is the Liar? 1 John 2:22

 Who is the Liar? 1 John 2:22

John, the young disciple of Jesus, but now an old man, is fighting

for the life of the 1st century church. The apostles have

preached and thousands have believed, but there are also sinister

teachers that are leading people astray. Why? Perhaps they have

good intentions, and are just in error. More likely they have not only

false knowledge but also malicious intentions. They have seen the

attention and honor the apostles have received, and they may want

to make a name for themselves by creating a distinctive following

for themselves. Don’t be fooled. This is not just a 1st century

occurrence. It still happens today.

John runs through a few arguments to teach the Church what to

look for in “real” Christianity. In our text, John asks the question,

“Who is the liar?” The answer lies not with obscure doctrines and

fine points of disagreement. His answer: “He who denies that

Jesus is the Christ.”

“The Christ” is the One anointed and appointed by God to be

the Point Man in the mission to create “the people of God.” The

people cannot do so themselves, and must be redeemed, saved, by

One who stands firmly in God’s holiness but who is also able to bear

man’s sinfulness. Jesus Christ, the God-man, is the One, the only

One, who is able to do so.

The Jewish people, in large part, accept the hope of a “Christ” or

“Messiah,” but they do not accept that Jesus is that Person. Jesus, in

their eyes, was a problem, an imposter, who led people away from

proper attention to and obedience of the Law of Moses.

But it is not just unbelieving (in Jesus) Jews who fall into the “liar”

category. It is also any other religion who does not see and accept

Jesus as the central figure in procuring our salvation. Moslems share

some heritage with Jews, but they do not accept Jesus as the Christ.

Cults may adopt many features of the Christian faith, but in some

way diminish the perfect necessity of Jesus Christ being both

fully God and fully man.

When Jesus met the Emmaus Road disciples soon after the

resurrection and spoke with them without their knowing that He

was indeed the risen Lord, He asks them, “Was it not necessary

for the Christ to suffer these things and enter into His

glory?” Isaiah 53, in particular, in the Old Testament, makes clear

that “the Christ” would be a Servant who would suffer for the

people that He came to save, who would then become God’s own

people. It is a central truth; central enough that if you don’t agree,

you are a liar.

Do you Love Me (more than these)? John 21:15

 Do you Love Me (more than these)? John 21:15

This is a critical question that Jesus asks Peter, and it is a critical

question that Jesus asks each one of us. He calls us by name, as He

did Peter (Simon), and He asks, “Do you love Me more than

these?”

Jesus actually asks Peter this question three times. Some say that it

is in response to the fact that Peter denied the Lord three times

during His trial, before the crucifixion and resurrection. Now the

risen Lord addresses this Peter, bringing him back into the fold, and

commissioning him for the work that is ahead. And, it seems,

loving Jesus is critical to the mission, for all of us.

It is only in the first question that Jesus includes the words, “more

than these.” And yet, I think these words are helpful for all of us.

Love in general can be quite abstract. Love in relation to other

things becomes much more objective.

Whenever we sin, we do so because we want to. We do what we

want. It is the action of our will, our “want to.” We sin because we

love something about that sin, not necessarily everything about

it, but there is something that we love that moves us to do it. When

I sin, it is because I love something about the sin more than I love

Jesus. That’s the question Jesus asked. And here is the ugly answer. I

prove over and over that there are things that I love more than

Jesus, at least with that issue, in that moment. And it is called sin.

As believers, we want to love Jesus more than anything, and we

assume that we do. But assumptions can be wrong. That is why this

question must be applied to ourselves, and we must examine and

answer carefully. In that failure, or moment of unfaithfulness, or

selfishness - whatever it was, let’s identify what it is that we love

so much that we were willing to transgress one of the

commands of Jesus. Because we know, don’t we, and we take it as

fact that love is shown by the keeping of His commandments - John

14:21 “He who has My commandments and keeps them is the one

who loves Me.”

Lots of people say “I love you,” but it is just words and they fail to

love in deed. Love is proved as we say “yes” to the things that we

should say “yes” to; and “no to the things that we should say “no” to.

If we say “yes” to things that are not in keeping with a walk with

Christ, in agreement with His will, when we should have said “no;”

or, conversely, if we say “no” to things that are in keeping with a

walk with Christ, to which we should say “yes,” but fail to do so - we

have to ask, “Do you love Jesus more than these?"

A Yoke Too Heavy to Bear (Acts 15:10)

 A Yoke Too Heavy to Bear (Acts 15:10)

Someone has said that the job of the preacher is to comfort the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable. There may be an element of truth, but I would say that the job of the Gospel preacher is to lighten the load. We are not to heap up guilt and obligation, but to point to Christ who has borne our penalty and our pain for us.

On this Sunday before Reformation Day, celebrated each year on October 31 (often forgotten due to something else going on that day), we think again of the truth and blessing of something called “justification by faith.” We all want to be justified, but there are different paths by which people try and get there. There is self-justification, as opposed to God-justification. There is justification by works, or accomplishment, or effort, as opposed to justification by faith. There is justification in the eyes of people, doing whatever is necessary to gain their favor, as opposed to justification in God’s eyes, not gaining it, but receiving it as a gift through faith in Christ.

Justification is a legal issue, and God is the Judge. We, His creatures, have offended His holiness in more ways than we know, and for us to seek to stand before the Judge and claim that we have gone ahead and justified ourselves, well, that’s just not going to fly. 

But the most common approach to God, or to “the gods,” is to try to justify ourselves before the deity so that they would be no longer mad at us. It is yoke too heavy to bear. And in Jesus’ day, it is how the Jewish religion had devolved into a “try harder” religion by which one could (hopefully) secure God’s favor by sufficiently(?) keeping the Law (which no one could do perfectly).

And so Paul confronts Peter, recorded in Acts 15 and asks this critical question about testing God and putting a yoke on the backs of disciples who had been saved by grace through faith, but now were to revert back to having to earn God’s favor by practicing old laws that no longer applied. Paul, a good Gospel preacher, was saying, “Let’s not break the back of the disciples.” Yes, let’s not.

I like to say that Jesus has done the heavy lifting for us. He carried the cross that we deserved. He bore the penalty of our sin that would have required eternal punishment for us. He bore the yoke that was too heavy for us to bear. So we are to substitute nothing in our Gospel understanding that replaces Christ. And it can happen easily. But now, we walk with Christ who leads us in lives of freedom, a freedom that loves to love and to serve.

What is Truth? (John 18:38)

 What is Truth? (John 18:38)

We were talking on the sidewalk in front of Starbucks, as we usually do most days of the week, about one thing or another. Israel and the Palestinians and Hamas came up, and I recounted what I remembered from a study that I had done in the past - that the word “Hamas” is actually the Hebrew word for hate. Afterward, I decided to check that, and guess what, I was wrong. I don’t know how that thought got into my head, but I shared wrong information as fact. Did I lie? Well, it was a  mistake. But did I lie? Yes.

We lie when we tell an un-truth. When we quote a liar, we are in fact lying. We should watch the sources from which we quote. In my case, it was my own memory. Evidently, not to be trusted. We are liars when we quote even people we trust, who are quoting someone who has lied or, perhaps, has mis-remembered. But when we speak an un-truth, no matter how respected a source, we are lying. 

When Pilate asked this question at  Jesus’ trial, “What is truth?”, it almost seems rhetorical. The Jewish leaders were speaking facts that he knew not to be true. He was a politician in the Roman Empire, having a Play-Doh view of truth that can be shaped into most anything imaginable. But there was something different about Jesus’ view of truth. He spoke the truth. And, He lived the truth.

You have reason not to trust me when it comes to the Hebrew background of words that we use today, but “truth” in the Old Testament not only speaks of factual accuracy, as in “true” or “false.” It goes beyond that and speaks of fidelity between the statement and the person. Truth might be defined as an accurate description of the reality of things, but then it goes on to describe a person’s right living in the midst of that right reality. So when Jesus stated that God alone was worthy to be worshipped,  He was not caught worshipping a boat or some earthly experience or money. He stated the truth, and He lived the truth. And if He had failed to live the truth, He would have been a liar.

And that reaches to us as well. When we state that Christians are to love their neighbors, and we don’t, then the truth that we state is confounded by our conduct, and, we are found to be liars, not so  much by our words, but by our conduct.

Truth is difficult for us. It was not difficult for Jesus, because not only did He he speak truth, but He also lived truth, and, as the verse says Him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”

Do you wish to get well? (John 5:6)

Do you wish to get well? (John 5:6)

On the face of it, this seems like a rude question. A man has been sick for thirty-eight years, laying by a pool and begging. “Of course I want to get well! What kind of question is that?” But I believe Jesus intends for us to think about this a bit more carefully.

First of all, the man does not respond to a “yes” or “no” question with either a “yes” or a “no.” He comes up with, “there is no man to help me.” Now, this is a man who certainly needs help. But help will not heal him. He’s been sick/lame/weak/paralyzed for all these years, and helpfulness is not the same thing as healing. Care-giving is a wonderful thing, but it does not solve the problem. It seems as though Jesus is asking the question, “Do you want this problem solved?” And the man does not answer directly.

More philosophically, we might ponder, does he really want to get well? This is his life, for thirty-eight years. He has somehow learned to manage and survive in this system. His social circle is here. Life is far from perfect, but it is the life that he knows. Does he really want his life to change dramatically?

Of course, we must ask this of ourselves. Many of us have lived for more than thirty-eight years. We have our patterns and circles and support systems. We live with our liabilities, and have learned to live in spite of them, even coming to co-opt them in some ways. Do we want the kind of encounter with Jesus that changes our lives dramatically, freeing us from the current bondages to which we have become accustomed and are perhaps in love with, so that we might begin a new life in which Jesus is Lord?

Jesus steps in and gives the command: “Get up, pick up your pallet, and walk.” The man does exactly that. Jesus does not wait to be asked. He initiates a profound change in this man’s life. How does the man respond? He does not know Jesus’ identity, but later, Jesus having revealed Himself to him, the man goes back to the religious authorities and identifies Jesus as the man who broke the Sabbath, and perhaps, the man who broke the debilitating cycle of life in which the man was mired, but in which he was at home. Perhaps in the eyes of this man, Jesus had healed, but he did not see it as help.

The man seems not to have wanted the healing that he received. Jesus’ words to him are this: “Behold, you have become well; do not sin anymore, so that nothing worse happens to you.” The man had been released from his captivity, and was now challenged to enter into a new life that would be free from a sin that Jesus knew about, and that the man knew about, but that has not been identified for us, the readers. It seems that the ungrateful man was unwilling to embrace Jesus; unwilling to embrace his wholeness; and resentful that he had to figure out a new life, alone in this world, all by himself. It seems that this story teaches us of the great peril in being “saved” and yet to not be willing to embrace the Savior and the salvation that He offers.

Lord, are there just a few who are being saved? (Luke 13:23)

 Lord, are there just a few who are being saved? (Luke 13:23)

Biblical context is an interesting thing. A word should be understood in its paragraph, and a concept needs to be understood against the backdrop of the book of the Bible. A theme can find its context in the Bible as a whole. There can be geographical context; chronological context; or context of theme.

And so our verse, where the disciples ask, “Lord, are there just a few who are being saved?” should be answered carefully. Certainly the opposition against Jesus seemed formidable, such that conversions would be difficult. Misunderstandings of Jesus did abound. And, when God had saved from judgment in the Old Testament, Peter would later write that only “a few, that is, eight persons, were brought safely through the water” (I,3:20). 

Earlier in the same chapter, Jesus speaks of the small mustard seed which later abounds, or the hidden leaven, which eventually leavens all the dough. In light of those references, “few-ness” should not be surprising, nor distressing.

Later in the same chapter, Jesus mentions “the narrow way,” also mentioned in Matthew 7’s later part of the Sermon on the Mount. Matthew says, “few there be who find it.” That seems a bit more discouraging.

But God has always started out with just a few. Think of Abraham, son-less for years. Moses later says, “It was not because you were more in number than any other people that the LORD set his love on you and chose you, for you were the fewest of all peoples (Dt 7:7). Or God winnows down His people to a remnant: “When they were few in number, of little account, and sojourners in it,” Ps 105:12 (ESV) 

God says to Paul in unfriendly Corinth: “Do not be afraid any longer, but go on speaking and do not be silent; ¹⁰ for I am with you, and no man will attack you in order to harm you, for I have many people in this city.” Acts 18:9-10. He says to His disciples, “I have other sheep, which are not of this fold; I must bring them also, and they will hear My voice; and they will become one flock with one shepherd. Jn 10:16

We seem to be at a point in the West where the growth of the church is stunted. Oh, there are churches that grow, though I am not one to put much stock in market-driven growth, but am glad when the Gospel finds hungry hearts and draws crowds. My point is that we should not be discouraged. What we must be is diligent in sharing the Gospel, in sharing Christ.

Lord, do You want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them? (Luke 9:54)

“Lord, do You want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” (Luke 9:54)

As the pressure mounts in Jesus’ ministry, both from people’s expectations and the religious leaders’ opposition, the disciples are trying to discern how to posture themselves. They struggled to provide right answers, but often they got it wrong. They tried to express great faith, but often wrongheaded. And that’s what we have here.

A group of Samaritans did not properly honor Jesus. Never mind that Peter, just previously, had put Jesus on the same plane as Moses and Elijah at the Transfiguration. But Jesus is no mere man, and Peter is rebuked from heaven. Or, the disciples approach Jesus and ask for special honors in the coming kingdom. This pays little regard to the price that Jesus will pay to redeem their sorry souls (and ours) from the penalty of sins, theirs and ours. You see, we are much more keen to point out the sins of others rather than our own, and when we notice the Samaritans failing to show honor, we seem completely blind to the ways in which we have done the very same thing.

And so the disciples, in the voice of the young “sons of thunder,” James and John, ask the question in our title: “Lord, do You want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” And Jesus answers, “No.” He said “No.” It is not our job to command fire from heaven to consume Jesus’ adversaries, or ours.

The truth is, “fire from heaven” is what we all deserve. Every single one of us. The distinctions that we make between our sins the the sins of others are indistinguishable when we stand in the light of God’s holiness and at the bar of His justice. Condemnation is what we deserve. All of us. And so for us to even think that we might call God’s fire down on someone else is to completely miss the point of who God is as holy, and who we are as sinners.

Being saved by grace through faith does not change the equation. Saved sinners are not all of a sudden qualified to mete out God’s justice on those not-yet-saved. Rather, we are to be those who smell like the Gospel, and not reek of self-righteousness. We are to be those who love, not specialize in showing disdain. Yes, there are people with whom we disagree. And we, like Jesus, love them anyway.

Of all the questions recorded in the Bible, I think this is one of the critical questions. Should we call down fire from heaven? The answer is “No.” It comes not from the Spirit of God, but from some other spirit.