The First Sin

The First Sin

For those who have a little Biblical background, the “first sin” is pretty famous. It is also called “Adam’s Fall,” or, the Fall of humanity into sin. Adam and Eve broke the commandment of God which said,““From any tree of the garden you may eat freely; but from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat from it you will surely die.”” (Genesis 2:16–17 NAS95) 

They ate of the forbidden fruit. They broke the command of God. But was that the first sin? 

As far as the text says, the command from God was given to Adam before Eve was formed from his rib. It would have been Adam’s responsibility, then, to inform Eve, in a proper, husbandly, loving and respectful way, of this divine prohibition. It seems that he did, because when the serpent deviantly asked Eve, “Did God really say …?”, she quoted the commandment almost verbatim. Almost.

She corrected the serpent and said that they could gladly eat from every other tree, other than this particular tree - you know, the one under which she was sitting. But she didn’t say merely that they were not to eat of it. She said that they were not even to touch it. She added to the commandment. That could have been the first sin.

But maybe it wasn’t her sin. Maybe it was Adam’s. Perhaps Adam wanted to impress on this fair maiden the danger and seriousness of this command, and so he decided to enhance it. Some call this “putting a hedge around it.” Religions through the ages are famous for this, setting up hedge after hedge until you can’t even remember what the original rule was. Did Adam add to the command of God? And was that really the first sin?

You might also remember that Adam was responsible for the naming of the animals. We aren’t told what goes into these names, but names in the Bible generally speak to something of the character of the person. In this case, it would be the character of the creature. Now it says in Genesis 3:1 that “the serpent was more crafty than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made.” Was” serpent” its name? And did the word “serpent” communicate just how creepy and crafty and twisty the serpent could be? Was Eve prepared to handle this adversary? And, where was Adam? 

There is significant interaction between the serpent and Eve in Genesis 3. But Adam doesn’t speak. What is he? The strong, silent type? That doesn't cut it when the world hangs in the balance. And where was he?
The text says that she took of the fruit and ate, and gave to her husband "with her,” and he ate. How “with her” was he?

If you are in the other room watching TV, are you “with her?”, that is, your wife. If you are sitting at a table together but you are engrossed in your phone, are you "with her?” If you just aren't paying attention, are you “with her?” The Bible says that Adam was “with her,” but I’m not sure it indicates how “with her” he was.

I think the first sin may have happened when Adam didn’t tend to the store, or to his wife; when he failed to “guard the garden” as he was charged to do.

Why is this important? Because I believe that most of our acknowledged sins are preceded by other sins that we fail to recognize. The first sin may not be succumbing to temptation. It may be playing in temptation’s nest. It may be failing to pray “deliver us from evil.” The first sin may be, perhaps like Adam, in taking a casual attitude to this feature of the Christian life called obedience.

330 Miles on a Bike, Together

330 Miles on a Bike, Together

Just a few notes from the road/trail - Last week Tuesday four of us dipped our rear wheel in the Ohio River at Cincinatti and on Friday touched the water in Lake Erie at Cleveland. According to my Cateye@, 330 miles, which is a little longer than advertised, but not if you get lost once or twice. We came from Michigan, New York, North Carolina, and Illinois. We were friends a long time ago, graduating from Cedarville in 1980-81. We have crossed paths a bit, some more than others, and there has been a lot of life experience, each different than the other. 

In fact, the four of us are quite different from one another. Four different personalities handling the schedule and stress, but working quite well together. The others were prepared for this in a variety of ways more than me, so I think I benefited the most from what the others offered. I figured I was the oldest, but found out I was #2. I also found out I was second heaviest, but not second tallest. In fact, I may be the shortest. I need to work on that, and not the tall part.

This was not like a ladies’ shopping trip (though I’m no expert on ladies’ shopping trips). There was a lot of planning just to make it happen, which followed one of the guys having a deep desire to do this ride in the first place. There was the logistics of how to arrange transportation. There was the gear, and bike riders are big on gear. And then there was the training that needed to precede riding 80+ miles on average/day. I was short on the training, but on the other hand, everybody else on this trip seems to be retired. 

Our chosen task was to ride south to north through Ohio. Yes, Ohio. Now I don’t have anything against Ohio. I went to college there, and my grandkids and their parents live there. Taylor and Courtney got married there. But I wouldn’t want to live there. God has been merciful. But we did find Ohio to have at least a bit of variety. The first southern half was flat and rather colorless. Northeast of Columbus was a bit more hilly, more colorful, and in Amish country, the buggies on the road had us on the lookout for road apples.

The exercise of biking is a strange one, traveling that far on ribbons of air, though I guess wider tires are the rage now - I’m always a bit behind the curve. There’s the conversation and planning of stops along the way, but there is also the conversation in one’s own head and with one’s own body - what’s feeling tired; what hurts; how long; how far; can I keep up. There is also the impatience. Lady shoppers may leave closer to on time than this group.

But it worked. We all made it, together. We finished the course. Our bikes didn’t fail us, nor did our bodies. We didn’t give up, and we accomplished something significant, four of us at 66 and 65. And we talk about doing it again. But please, not in Ohio.

I wasn’t sure if I was up to it. After the first day, 82 miles, slight grade uphill from the Ohio River, I knew I could do it. The second day, over 100 miles, picking our way through Ohio, longer, but quite an accomplishment, and the first century ride for at least one of the guys. 

But I don’t think I could have done it alone. I’m sure I wouldn’t have done it, or even thougth of it, but I’m sure that I could not have done it alone. I would have missed some of the road signs. I wouldn’t have been able to hang on on someone’s wheel at times, or push and be pushed with the others. We all ride mostly alone, but this “together” thing is pretty valuable. It’s a good idea. Better things happen when we work together. That surely has many applications, and I believe that God thinks it’s a good idea.

Jesus was Not a Victim

Jesus was Not a Victim

Jesus left heaven’s glory to enter into the created world and live among those who were in rebellion against God. He was misunderstood, falsely accused, and wrongly sentenced to capital punishment on the cross. But, Jesus never played the victim.

On the other hand, Jesus made Himself to be vulnerable. Vulnerability and Victimhood are not the same thing. He made Himself vulnerable - He, the eternal Son of God - by being born in human nature to a human mother. A mere creature, Mary, changed the diapers of the Son of God! That’s vulnerability. He was surrounded by sinful siblings, yet He Himself was sinless, though most likely blamed when the younger ones cried. He was painted as having evil motives, even when the real reason He came to earth was to provide salvation for people like us who actually do have evil motives. He was “like one from whom men hide their face; He was despised, and we did not esteem Him” (Isaiah 53:3). Yes, Jesus made Himself to be vulnerable. But He never claimed victimhood.

There may be such a thing as victimhood, but the idea has become an art form these days. It is a pathway to power, as if you have a voice if you are victim over against those who are not or don’t claim it. These days, those in the throes of victimhood are skilled at making other people feel guilty for their plight. It’s not their own fault for whatever; it’s yours. If their behavior is bad today, it’s because of something that happened - that was done to them - yesterday. That is, every episode of sorrow and introspection and failure to do what needs to be done - it was set up by yesterday’s crime - a crime against - me. The focus is not on what I can do to improve my situation in the present, but rather on what happened in my past that crippled my ability to live life today.

Jesus never did this. You will not find it in the Biblical record. Yes, He made Himself vulnerable, but He did not play the victim. He didn’t blame God, or His disciples, or the religious leaders, or even the devil. There was and is sin in the world, but He didn’t whine and complain about it. He confronted it, but He treated it as a part of the present reality that needed to be dealt with, and He was prepared to deal with, as only He could. 

This can mean many things, but one of them is this: Jesus does not blame you for His death. He holds us accountable, but He does not leverage our guilt in order to make Him look or “feel” better. That is so far below Him. And, it is also far below His followers. We also are to be vulnerable, but we are not to play the victim. 

So what does it mean for the Christian to embrace his/her vulnerability? It means that we are but creatures, and the world does not revolve around us, but rather the Creator. It means that we realize our present reality, that we are sinners saved by grace living in a sinful world. If we experience disease of disability, it is part of the present reality that will be wonderfully transformed when Jesus comes again. If it is mistreatment by others, we take it as a badge of honor as those who follow Christ, who was even more mistreated that we are. To be vulnerable in this world as a Christian means that it is not all about me, but about the honor of His name. If I find myself offended because I am not properly appreciated or celebrated, then I know that the Holy Spirit will soon convict me, and I will be on my knees confessing my sin and, once again, sanctifying Christ as Lord in my heart - Christ as Lord, not me.

Let me end by looking back at Jesus once again. If anyone would be justified in being cruelly affronted, it would be Him. We may not deserve all of how we are treated, but surely we deserve some of it. We are sinners after all. But Jesus is not: never was; never will be. Always pure. Always glorious. And yet, He made Himself vulnerable so that we can live our lives today looking up, and live life forever, in perfect fellowship with Him, with all that He has created, and even with our own formerly twisted selves.

God Does Not Revert to the Mean

God Does Not Revert to the Mean

I marked Romans 3:3 as one of the critical questions of the Bible: “What if some were unfaithful? Does their faithlessness nullify the faithfulness of God?” Let me point out a rather obvious point in this verse: there is a difference between “faithlessness” and “faithfulness.” The old hymn does not sing “Great is thy faithlessness,” but rather, “Great is Thy faithfulness.” It is a part of God’s character, to be faithful, and He never acts out of character.

Second, let me just mention the phrase the title, reversion to the mean, or, regression to the mean. I am not an expert in statistics, but I read that outliers will normally be followed by instances which are more in line with what is “normal” or “average.” Another way of stating this phrase is that there is a “reversion to mediocrity.” We can now put the title and the verse together. 

God is always faithful. There is no “mean” toward which He could revert, because perfect faithfulness and reliability is His rule. It is more than “normal.” It is an always, never-interrupted faithfulness.

So why would anyone every question God’s faithfulness? I believe it would be because we forget that God’s faithfulness is not like our faithfulness, which is often marked by faithlessness. We “revert to the mean” over and over again, against our best intentions, and we fall away from faithfulness. Further, when we find unfaithfulness in ourselves, we expect that God might respond in kind, as if God in heaven would say, “Well then, if you are going to be like that, then I just might be like that as well. What we are supposing of God is that He will respond in kind to us. Why? Because that is what we do toward others.

But God is not like us. He is not subject to this law of statistics, the reversion to the mean, because He has no mean. He simply is, and what He is is perfect, in all things, and in faithfulness.

But what about us? What does it say about us when our faithfulness looks a lot more like faithlessness? For one thing, it says that we are sinners. Even sinners saved by grace are still sinners, and when we commit a sin, our faithfulness is necessarily marred. Perhaps our standard over time becomes compromised, so that we have a few good days of faithfulness, and then many “normal” days when, well, we revert to mediocrity when it comes to faithfulness. Is this the way it should be? No.

We are saved by grace. Therefore we should be gracious. We are saved through the instrumentality of faith. Therefore we should be faithful. We serve the God of truth. Therefore we should not lie. We trust the promises of God. Therefore, we should not worry. But we do worry and we do lie and we are less than faithful and are often not very gracious. How can this be in those who are given refashioned hearts that are being crafted into conformity with the character of Christ? How can those who have been taken hold of by Christ be so unlike Him so often? There is not really a satisfactory answer. Sin in the life of a Christian is a real problem. It reveals that the child of God has trivialized the sacrifice of Christ which bought him out from under sin’s penalty and power, as though what Jesus did for us on the cross carries little weight in our behaviors and reactions.

The “excuse” that we have is that we live distant from Christ. We are not “abiding,” to use a good Bible word. We may have one “Christ” in our life, but many lords - one Lord Jesus Christ, but many others “lords” that we follow when it comes to resentment or anger or jealousy. We profess that we have “closed with Christ,” to use an old Puritan phrase, but we still seem very open to ungodly influences. We then “revert to the mean,” just like others, many of whom don’t even claim to know Christ or to have been set free by the Gospel.

Our reversion is not to be to the mean, but to Christ. As outliers in this world, we are not to become more like “normal” humanity, but rather to become more like Jesus, perfectly faithful Jesus, who will remain faithful to us even when we are not.

Crisis and Process

Crisis and Process

Different churches have different approaches to the working out of Christianity. Faith in Christ is essential for all, if indeed they are Christian at all. But some churches tend more toward “crisis.” Others tend more toward “process.” As in most cases, it is not an either/or situation. It is rather both/and. But which is more important?

You know what a crisis is. It is when the bill is due and you don’t have the money. It is when someone knocks on the door with painful information. It is a life-changing moment, and often times, it seems to be negative. But “crisis” is not always negative. It is that point of time when a decision is due. It might be the best decision that you every made in your life. Or not. But the perfect dive begins with the crisis of actually jumping from the platform. It is the “critical” inflection point. I am not sure if we can connect “crisis” and “critical” etymologically, but I’m sure we can logically. That moment when you say “I do;” when you sign your name on the document; when you accept the job offer, or say “I quit.” We may have many crisis points in life, but in between, there is a lot of process.

Process rarely gets the headlines that crisis does. When the lights go out in Georgia, or Texas, it is a crisis. But there was process, evidently faulty, that led to the crisis. That brings us to a wonderful verse in Paul’s letter to the Philippians, that city in northern Greece (or, Macedonia) that was named for Philip of Macedon, Alexander the Great’s father. Paul wrote this verse to say something about crisis (implied) and process (overt):
    •    “For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6 NAS95)

When you and I begin a good work, it may well indeed be a crisis, a decisive inflection point. But God has no crises. I’m not sure He has processes either. He’s different from us. But in order to bring about that “perfection” in us, He uses processes, accommodated to our human situation. We can call it different things, like discipleship or spiritual formation. What we should understand is that a man-made discipleship program is artificial compared to the long-term practical education that God brings about in His children through blessings and trials; through rejoicing and suffering. But God uses processes. How did it begin? I’ll bet you can guess.

When you had your first birthday, there was a party of which you were mostly unaware. But there was a point to it, because your parents looked back a year before to the crisis that happened when you emerged from the womb and became a crying and often stinky person. That crisis then gradually evolved into a process. There was cooing and feeding, and there was gradual (very gradual at first) growth and development. Birth is the crisis. Growth is the process. No birth; no growth. No crisis; no process.

I believe that this illustration helps to understand something of the Christian life. It begins with being “born again,” a critical inflection point in you life where a decision is made to trust in Christ for the salvation of your soul, recognizing that nothing else or no one else can. It is a crisis, whether it be emotional or not. And then comes the process, that sudden or slow growth and development that fills the rest of our earthly life.

So it is both crisis and process. Some emphasize the crisis, without which there is no process. Some emphasize the process. But both are necessary.

And one more point: unlike physical birth followed by growth and then, if we live long enough, we experience decline and then death, life in Christ begins with the new birth, but then leads to growth, and when Jesus comes again, perfection, followed by life, and more life, called eternal life. If you are not involved in the process, then please go directly to the crisis. Go directly to the cross.

What is a “Good” Christian?

What is a “Good” Christian?

Recent news accounts quoted a person describing a particular Jewish man in less than favorable terms. It was explained, at least in part, why this person deserved this description, and I wondered how it would go if a Christian were described in the same way, a *** Christian. It would be difficult for me to write about this in particular, since it would require me to use a word that my grandkids are not allowed to say, and it seems the prohibition applies to grandpa as well.

So how do I write about this? I began thinking about what it meant to be a “good” Jew. I suppose that, since the definition of “Jew” is broad, there would be differing opinions about what “good.” But that would apply to “Christian” as well - what is a “good” Christian?” since the definition of Christian has been used by different groups with different ideas: conservative vs. liberal; Biblical vs. cultural; devout vs. casual. Is it possible that some of these people who use the word “Christian” are not “good enough” to be Christian at all?

So what is a “good” Christian? In some churches, faithful attendance would be a marker. In other churches, hefty giving counts for goodness. It can span from strong leadership to humble service. “Good” is a very flexible word. 

In all of these measures (and more), we could always be better. “Better” is a comparative form of “good,” and my good and yours could always be better. So one of our problems in defining a “good” Christian is realizing that we could always do better, which means what we are doing now is less than better, or not so good.

Let’s get to the punch line: the question, “what is a ‘good’ Christian,” is the wrong question, because the way we have framed it answers with regard to self. How can I be good? How can I be good enough? And the Gospel answer is, “You can’t.” The issue is not, “are you a good Christian,” but this: “Do you have a good Christ?” This is because our salvation is not rooted in ourselves or our best efforts, but in what Jesus did for us. Let me say it more forcefully. If one calls himself a Christian, a “good” Christian, but does not hold to a good Christ, then he defies what it means to be a
Christian.

Now, what is a “good” Christ? These terms are more easily defined. There is only one Christ, and it is the One who has been anointed and appointed by God to be the Savior of the world, Jesus. Since He is one of a kind and defines His own category, He cannot be compared, that is, He is incomparable. He is “good” in that He is perfectly holy, just like the heavenly Father. They agree completely in word and deed. There is no separation between them, and there are no failures.

Jesus is also “good” in that He qualified Himself to be the perfect sacrifice for our sins through His perfect obedience throughout His life. In spite of the fact that He grew up in a home with sinners - think of that - sinful brothers, He Himself never sinned. Further, He willingly gave Himself up to be crucified for us, that He might, though not a sinner, be put to death for our sins. As vindication of His suffering and sacrifice, He was raised from the dead, and now gives eternal life to those who believe in Him, that is, those who find Him to be supremely good. These people are called “Christians,” and they need no adjectives before their names.

Do You Presume on the Riches of God’s Kindness?

Do You Presume on the Riches of God’s Kindness?

We don’t like to be presumed upon. That is, we don’t appreciate when people place expectations upon us for a certain response or favor without first being consulted. But do we do the same thing to God? Our verse, Romans 2:4, was included in last week’s post, but I think we may have a little more room to run:

Rom. 2:4 Or do you presume on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?

There are several reasons why we might presume upon an expectation of God’s kindness. A very likely reason would be that you have experienced many, many kindness which you attribute to God, whether directly or indirectly, and, believing in the consistency of His nature, you expect that these kindness will continue, perhaps
forever. That seems reasonable, but also naive. Do you remember the warnings about financial investments, that past results do not guarantee future performance? That may apply to God as well, not because His character changes, but because the timing of His plans and purposes changes, and that now is the time for repentance, and later will be a time for judgment. In the time of judgment, those who have not repented will no longer receive the accustomed kindnesses.

Another common but crazy reason one might presume upon God’s kindness is that you think you deserve it. You think God owes you. “What’s he there for, anyway, but to serve my needs and guarantee my happiness?” This kind of an attitude actually dethrones God from being God, and makes you the center of your universe. No,
sophisticated gentleman or madame, God is not your personal assistant to shower you with kindnesses. 

As you note in the verse above, there is reference not only to God’s kindness, but also to His forbearance and patience, two similar words (as though we should think about them). God’s patience actually can mislead us into thinking that everything is alright, and that God’s kindness will continue on and on. I suppose that if God interrupted His kindness with flashes of cruelty, we would not be so tempted to presume. And those flashes may indeed be justified. In fact, I think that they are. The fact that He withholds them is an exercise of His mercy, a great kindness. Why does He withhold?

God wants to draw you toward repentance. What is repentance? It is a humbling of oneself before God, admitting to God what has dawned upon you about the holiness and righteousness of God, and that you fall far short of any kind of divine standard that would be in keeping with God showing kindness. We turn from our sins, and we turn to God, and wonder why this God should have wasted so many kindness upon us for so long. But now, humbled before God and accepting of His Son, you receive this kindness, not with presumption, but with a response of worship and gratefulness, and a desire to reflect that kindness toward others. You will have a re-created hope in line with God’s purpose, that all, like you, would come to a repentance that leads to
salvation.

Freedom vs. Independence

 Freedom vs. Independence

I know why we call July 4 Independence Day, and it is accurate. We are no longer under the thumb of a foreign power. But in our present cultural moment, we must see “freedom” and “independence” as opposed to one another.

I am basing my thoughts on a favorite verse from 1 Peter: “Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God. Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor.” (1 Peter 2:16–17 ESV)

There is a phrase being used to describe the current mood among those who are asserting their freedoms: expressive individualism. That is, a person should be “free” to live as they see fit, so long as they do not harm others. But this freedom is a freedom for the individual. Think about this. Every team is now more a collection of individuals that it is a team. Each individual on the team must be free to individually express themselves, so long as other individuals are not harmed. But the good of the team is subordinated to the “good” of the individual. This same principle then applies to communities and churches and the voluntary organizations and even the nation. It’s really all about “me.”

Contrast this with our verse above. The great value of our freedom is not for ourselves, but for how we can serve others. Certainly this can and does apply to team and community, but in the Christian community, it places loving God and serving others above expressing one’s own wants and urges. If you are on a team, then put the team first. If you are part of a community, put the community first. If you are part of a church, put the church first. And if you are part of God’s kingdom, put the glory of God above the glory of self.

Expressive individualism should be called what it is: selfishness. It puts my self and my fame and my image or imagination above everything else. If it conflicts with a centuries-old definition of marriage, then trash the old and bring in the new. And, by the way, if anyone else wants to hold on to the “old” definitions, let the government regulate them. Those who are “out of step" must not be “free” to “express” those “individual” beliefs.

There are two strange things in this individual turn. Both have to do with “expressive individualism” not being so “individual” after all. First, it used to be that if an individual chose to express himself contrary to norms, he would accept the consequences of that viewpoint. John Bunyan in England in the 17th century preached without a license. He was jailed for it, and accepted the consequencebecause of his freely chosen conviction. Today, such consequences are unacceptable to individuals choosing their own course.

Second, the other way in which these “individualists” are not so solitary is that they are desiring to be different just like everybody else. They are following a cultural mood, and in many cases are not so sincere as they are coopted by agendas that use them for malign purposes without concern for their good or their futures - in Peter’s words above, “a cover-up for evil.”

Finally, this turn toward the self is not good for the nation. It is not good for the community. It is not good for the church. It is not good for the self. This freedom that we hold as dear is a freedom to put others first. Not ourselves.

Only Jesus Does All Things Well

Only Jesus Does All Things Well

Let’s clear away the silly argument first, before we get to something more practical. In the Middle Ages, theological nerds argued whether God could create a rock to heavy for Himself to pick up. So if you want to argue whether, since Jesus does all things well, He can also sins well, go someplace else.

Jesus’ relationship with the Father was and is without the slightest friction. Can you imagine being married for even one year without an argument; without hurt feelings; without misunderstanding and incidents of selfishness. Throughout eternity, the Father and the Son are always on the same page, singing the same note in perfect pitch.

Jesus saves well. His forgiveness covers all our sins, not just some. His atonement provides forgiveness for the sins we know about, and the ones we don’t. I suspect there are even more sins of the latter kind than the former. He saves so that we don’t wander in and out of salvation. His promises stand.

But my point with the title above, “Only Jesus does all things well,” is that only Jesus does, and we don’t. None of us does all things well. You may do some things extremely well, but not all things. We find ourselves regularly disappointed in ourselves. We may feel like failures. We may consider giving up. Why? Because we have not agreed with the fact that only Jesus does all things well. Nobody else, including you, comes close.

We are imperfect people doing imperfect things, and though aided by the gifts of God and the help of the Spirit (the first provided by God widely, and the second given from Christ to those who are “in Christ”), we still fall short. How are we to respond?

First, we should look up, not down. We should look to our Father in heaven, and to our wonderful, merciful Savior. We learned as children, “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” He loves us, knowing full well that we indeed do not do all things well. But He loves us anyway. We should be assured that our Father does not love us more on our best days than He does on our worst. This is where we start.

But also, we should not turn on ourselves and castigate ourselves. We are but humans, finite and frail. And worse, we are sinful humans who have a bent toward self and sin. The wonder of the Gospel is that Jesus came to save sinners, and God justifies the ungodly. We fit the bill, and we are saved and justified by faith in Him. So don’t go trashing what God has saved and justified.

But we must be truthful in examining ourselves. Did we fail because we are human, or because we were lazy, or selfish, or spiteful? Did we prepare properly, or did we skip the preparation and then perform poorly? Did we choose the nice and comfortable path rather than doing the right thing, or the hard thing, or the most important thing? In all these questions and more, we should be willing to be brutally honest with ourselves or with the critiques from others. We can always improve and do better.

Over time, we learn about our strengths and weaknesses. We all have them, both strengths and weaknesses. We seek to maximize our strengths, without pride (and that is more difficult than it sounds). And, we seek to manage our weaknesses, by learning and practicing skills that help us compensate, or leaning hard on others who can help in those areas.

But more important: we pray. We pray about the use of our strengths, and about the help we need for our weaknesses. We pray intently and regularly. We pray to the only Person who does all things well. And one of the things He does well is to help persons just like me, and just like you.

Jesus Strong and Kind

Jesus Strong and Kind

Everybody has heard of Jesus. Not everyone is taken with Him. I remember counseling a young couple who were caught in a pattern of being mean to one another, really mean. The young woman, who I barely knew, said of the young man, with whom I had some familiarity: “No offense, pastor, but he doesn’t need Jesus. What he needs is a pill.” I would still maintain that, while people may at times need pills, what we all really need most is Jesus.

In the title above, the song speaks of Jesus who has contrasting qualities which are not in conflict with one another, and yet He is able to demonstrate both fully. Jesus, as we know Him from the Gospels, stands firm; teaches unflinchingly; endures criticism and false accusation; perseveres with grace under the pressure of the crowds, and puts His relationship with the Father over things like sleep and food. He is strong.

Jesus is also kind and tender with those who are weak and afflicted. He sympathizes. He helps and He heals. While Jesus is strong, He is also kind.

Imagine with me for a moment if Jesus had been the opposite: not strong and kind, but weak and cruel. We know people like that. We call them bullies. They use bluster and threats to hide their own weaknesses. And if Jesus had been like that, He would not have been worthy of following. But there is so much more.

Jesus is always on time with a word, a question, a rebuke, a story or illustration. He knows men and women so well, better than they know themselves, that He can put His finger on the issue immediately. If someone asks me a tough question, I usually say, “Let me think about it.” Or we review a conversation in our heads, and think, “I wish I would have said this,” or worse, “I shouldn’t have said that.” Jesus is able to answer on time, and perfectly, because He already understands us completely.

Jesus is good with both individuals and crowds. With individuals, he focuses attention and probes and leads them along in their thinking without making a decision for them. He allowed the rich, young ruler to walk away, and also Nicodemus. At least one of them returned. And then with the crowds, Jesus speaks to the masses so that they all understand. He gives clear instructions and makes sharp distinctions. He illustrates from nature and makes comparisons that even children can follow. 

One thought that I appreciate most is that, whether with individuals or crowds, it never becomes just about Himself. As with the blind man or Zacchaeus, no one is too unimportant or unpopular for His attention. He is truly interested in the lowliest of people. And with the crowds, His ego never gets in the way. He doesn’t appear to be impressed with Himself. He doesn’t brag about the numbers or market His miracles. 

He is just Jesus, the Son of Man who lived the life here that we were all meant to live until sin entered the world and entered me and you and made us bent and crooked. But Jesus is just; He is truth; He is kind; He is the most interesting Person who ever walked this planet, and worthy of our attention and worship. 

So let’s start paying more attention to Jesus than to presidential candidates and basketball players.

Abundance vs. Scarcity

Abundance vs. Scarcity

Which is better? Abundance or scarcity? We know which one we prefer. We would prefer to have enough with some left over. How much left over? Just a little bit more.

I’ve been exploring this theme in a couple different ways in my own study. One way was to read a book on “abundance” and another book on “scarcity” as it applies to one’s view of the future. The “abundance” author admits great challenges that lie ahead, but banks on the advances of technology to deal with those dangers. The “scarcity” author sees that every advance in technology brings with it not only opportunities for good, but also opportunities for evil, and thus sees the dangers exploding in the days ahead. These authors did not share their views from a faith perspective, and Christians, whether we tend to be “abundance” people or “scarcity” people, must remember that God is on the throne and that He has firm control of the outworking of history.

Another track I am studying is the language of abundance in the Bible. The abundance of God abounds, even in the Genesis 1, what with all the “teeming” and “swarming” and then the fulfillment of “be fruitful and multiply.” This planet and it’s people absolutely bloomed and blossomed. But there is also the abundance of the wicked. They are genius in concocting schemes for more and more evil. God, if not now, will in the end bring the abundance of the wicked to nothing, but also will bring even the poverty of the righteous to a state of blessing or abundance.

But my further question is how people behave under the contrasting states of abundance and scarcity. Many, perhaps most of us, have experienced some measure of both in our lives. This can be material abundance, or physical as it relates to health, and certainly spiritual. We find that, when experiencing abundance, it is easy to take things for granted, and to assume that because things are good now, they will be forever. When people face scarcity, they tend to learn to live with what they have, and they may in fact find more satisfaction in simple things, simple fixes, that give them greater pleasure because they had to figure it out for themselves. In his book, “Scarcity Brain,” Michael Easter says, “In the modern world, if we push back against our tendency to add—forcing ourselves to solve a problem with what we have—we’ll likely solve it better, more creatively and efficiently. Creativity and efficiency bloom under scarcity.”

But aside from creativity and efficiency, Easter also alludes to the other problem that we have in our prosperous society. When we facea problem, those accustomed to abundance simply add more. We add and we add and we add until we cannot fit the car in the garage and we are compelled to build more and bigger barns.

The accumulation of more does not lead to greater satisfaction, and is a perversion of the true meaning of abundance. It takes our eyes off God, the Giver of the best gifts, and seduces us to focus on stuff, junk. In a strange way, those with the most stuff may in fact have the least abundance.

Radical vs. Ordinary

Radical vs. Ordinary

A Baptist pastor went on a mission trip about fifteen years ago to Africa. What he experienced there led him to the conclusion that American Christianity as represented in his own church had drifted toward self-service and self-satisfaction. It led him to write the best-selling book, “Radical: Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream.” It is a Biblical book, emphasizing such things as “take up your cross and follow me,” and the themes of service and sacrifice.

Four years later, a seminary professor, Presbyterian read this book and noticed the “radical” stream of preaching and writing, and wrote his own book, called “Ordinary: Sustainable Faith in a Radical, Restless World.” His emphasis is also Biblical, looking more at the disciplines of the Christian life that build faithfulness and endurance.

These two men are not enemies. I don’t know if they are friends, but they have certainly met and heard one another preach. This is not a “winner” and “loser” game. This is two servants of Christ seeking to serve the Body of Christ with truths that compete, though not contradictory.

Baptists may, in fact, be more geared to the “radical” approach with an emphasis on repentance and conversion and revival. These are all Biblical ideas. Presbyterians may find themselves more in sync with a view of the long term. Covenant theologians have typically focused more on building institutions, while Baptists and their dispensationalism think more of the impending coming of Christ and the end of the present world order. Again, both are found in Scripture.

The Baptist pastor preached and wrote to a congregation that he feared was falling asleep under the spell of a prosperous comfort-culture. The Presbyterian professor was writing out of concern for a generation of Christians whose fever pitch for doing radical and unusual things would likely lead to burnout and eventual drifting away from the faith. Both concerns are legitimate.

Certainly God calls individuals to particular callings. Joseph in Genesis lived a radical life, not at his own choosing, so that he might save his family, the fledgling people of God. Moses’ life in Exodus was disrupted radically from the beginning and continued until he died at one hundred twenty. David lived a radical life in the Old Testament, and Paul and all the apostles in the New.

And yet, Paul, writing to the churches that he planted stretching from Asia Minor to the Greek peninsula and on to Italy, all at tremendous danger to himself - he did not write to these new believers to live “radical” lives in the sense of going to far off places and doing dangerous things. He did not tell them to give up their jobs and move away from their neighbors. He told them to live ordinary Christian lives in the midst of those neighbors. Yes, there would be a change in their lives, what with the worship of the one true God instead of a panoply of false gods, and the fellowship of the believers who were committed to purity and piety. They would suffer for those differences, but they were to serve in the midst of it, resisting the pull of the worldly culture by personal devotion and living according to the teaching that they received.

Today also, some are called to more unusual callings which could be regarded as radical, but many and most are called to live as Christians, as those who have been captivated by Christ, and still living in the same family relationships, the same neighborhood, working at the same job, and answering the question, “How is it that your life has changed?”

He Will Hold Me Fast

He Will Hold Me Fast

Our oldest grandchild, Molly, turned eight on May eighth. I was asking around the table about what others remembered from that age. I remember not much, nor did Jessica. Jane has a great memory, and Courtney as well. But Taylor reminded us that age eight was quite the year.

Jane owned Your Nesting Place at the time, and we would make annual trips down to High Point, NC for the furniture show. We would find fun things to do along the way, like hiking at Pilot Mountain and stopping by the little town of Blowing Rock.
Taylor, age eight, was “off” that trip. He never got sick, but he just wasn’t himself. While Jane was busy and I had the kids at Pilot Mountain, I had to push him along and carry him part of the time, and I remember being pretty hard on him. And, he was thirsty all the time.

We were visiting in Blowing Rock when we stopped buying him Coke and got him a Pedialyte. He drank the whole thing and then lost it all. I think it was the first time that Taylor every threw up in his life. We called a nurse back home and she sent us to the hospital.

The Blowing Rock hospital was a nursing home with an emergency room and a few patient rooms. I only remember seeing one doctor, but when he read Taylor’s blood sugar, he pushed us aside and went to work. Only Taylor’s youth allowed him to survive the 1300 number. He was Type 1 diabetic, and we didn’t have a clue. They stabilized him over the next four days, and that nurse and her husband from MI drove down to accompany us back home, since they knew we didn’t know what we were doing.

When we got home, I felt like nothing would be the same again. I was sure we would never have another birthday cake in the house. I was wrong about that, and the Children’s Hospital doctor acquainted us with the “permissive” approach to Type 1 management, since there had been so many failures with the “strict” regimen. Taylor switched to Diet Coke, and there were lots of needles and pokes, but we managed.

I am so thankful for Jeff and June Jones driving from MI to NC all night to help us get home again (June is an RN). I am thankful for Andy Rogers filling the pulpit on short notice on a Palm Sunday since we were not allowed to leave Blowing Rock. I am thankful for Evie Laxton crying with me on the phone, and for the whole congregation’s concern. I am thankful for my dad explaining to me that diabetes is an “old” disease, and that I could have full confidence in the doctors knowing how to handle it. I am thankfulfor Jane, who is really the brains the of outfit. And I am thankful to the Lord for “holding us fast” through this experience in which we were so foolish and ignorant and naive. God has great patience and compassion for those who are in the midst of a storm. In the storm, there is no game plan and you don’t know what tomorrow holds, but He holds us fast “through life’s fearful path.”

I am also sorry for many things concerning which I should have been more aware and perceptive. I wish I would have been more patient and full of faith. I could have taken better stock of the information at hand and applied greater discipline in shaping how we managed the situation. I’m sorry for others in our extended families that have endured the same disease with their children. But through all this, the Lord has held us fast.

I’m glad that Taylor’s no longer eight, and I pray for Molly and all those other 8-year-old’s, that they make it through this year of their lives in ways where they grow and learn and have fun. But whatever happens, I am sure that the Lord will hold them and their families fast.

Don't Be Nice; Be Kind

Don't Be Nice; Be Kind

I’ve done it myself many times. I’ve been nice when I should have been kind. I am making a distinction that not everyone makes, and everyone who uses the word “nice” is not committing a sin. But I would like to suggest an important distinction.

Let’s imagine that you have a group that meets regularly, and there is one person who is driven to make it all about himself. He talks at length about all the ways that the world has cheated him, and so people listen, uncomfortably, and finally, the group chooses to stop meeting altogether. Why? Because they are too “nice” to tell this person the truth about himself, and out of niceness rather than kindness, evade the issue and then the person. Niceness is evasive. Kindness is truthful.

There is an old saying, “the truth hurts.” I am saying that kindness can hurt as well. But removing a skin lesion hurts also. The doctor still does it. He doesn’t send you away to a different doctor. He doesn’t say, “Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Niceness puts a bandaid on it. Kindness seeks to get to the root.

Think of a married couple that has a “nice” relationship. They ignore and put up with and evade. And one more thing, they individually seethe. This will end in some kind of divorce, whether legal, or practical, living separate lives because they refuse to be truthful with one another. Kindness tells the truth.

I do not pretend that kindness is always successful. What is? It is just the right thing to do if you are in a relationship that assumes that love is required, like in marriage, or in the church, or in any other relationship where you are to be pulling for the other person in a meaningful way. If you are in a relationship where you feel no obligation to love, you are in no position to be kind. But in all these cases, niceness is pretending without any intention to do good.

You can be kind without telling the truth in that very moment, because truth requires a proper method and a proper time. But niceness is not a cover for kindness. The kind person may say, “I think I understand, and we need to discuss this further and in more depth,” and then you go and pray about how to do it properly so that you do not do more damage than good. Scalpels can be lifesaving, but also lethal.

Perhaps I need to turn it this way: was Jesus nice, or kind? Was He both? According to my definition, were there times when He just passed over a person’s problem and gave some good but neutered platitude that would produce no repentance and no life change? Think of Jesus with the woman at the well, recorded in John 4. If you don’t know the story, for Pete’s sake read it (just being kind). Jesus approaches her; she is defensive and keeps changing the subject. But Jesus presses and reveals her deeper need and alienation. And, her life is changed. Or think of the “rich, young ruler” who comes to Jesus (recorded in Luke 18). We would likely gladly include him in our gatherings and maybe make him a deacon. But Jesus wanted to expose what was lacking for this man so that he might actually “inherit eternal life.” So Jesus put His finger on the one command the ruler did not boast about - covetousness. He loved money more than life, and Jesus exposed that ugly truth, out of kindness. The man walked away. That was his prerogative. But Jesus was kind, and He told the truth. If that man ends up in hell, it’s on him. He rejected the truth from Jesus. But when we are nice and not kind, we may bear some level of fault in hiding the truth from those who need to hear.

Maybe we should put our niceness in the cedar chest where useless things go, and put kindness into action.

Dogs and Pigs

Dogs and Pigs

Our verse for consideration is this: “Do not give what is holy to dogs, and do not throw your pearls before swine, or they will trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces.” (Matthew 7:6 NAS95). These are words of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount, and they sound a bit judgmental, immediately following, as they do, verses that warn against being judgmental.

But guarding against judgmentalism is not to say that we should not be wise and discerning. And we should know that dogs and pigs are not going to make good use of what is holy and precious.

Now, of course, I’m not talking about your pet dog or pig. Jesus is referring to dogs and pigs in His day. Dogs were not house pets, but were scavengers and travelled in packs. They could be dangerous, as indicated from Psalm 22:16 “For dogs have surrounded me; A band of evildoers has encompassed me.” Pigs could be dangerous, I suppose, but their chief offense would be their uncleanness. You can scrub up a pig, but it will return to the mire straightaway. And Old Testament law prohibited contact with pigs as unclean.

So we are not to desecrate what is holy by throwing it to the dogs, nor to waste what is precious by allowing pigs to root around in it. But to what does this apply? I think it must be the Gospel.

That presents a bit of a problem, because Jesus said that we are to sow the Gospel (using a different metaphor) indiscriminately. Whether it falls on the roadway, or on rocky soil, or amongst thorns, or on good soil, our job is to chuck seed and let God be in charge of the increase. How do we solve this apparent contradiction?

We are to share the Gospel freely and widely and lovingly. Our mindset is not how we should refrain from sharing, but in how we may find opportunity to share the Gospel. And yet we do so watching and praying for the hungry heart - for the person who is seeking to know God and to be set right with Him.

Think of Jesus talking with Nicodemus, a religious ruler who came to Jesus by night. He might have been testing Jesus. He may have been cynical. But he came asking, “how can a man enter the kingdom of God?”, and Jesus was glad to answer his question (John 3). In the next chapter Jesus talks to the broken woman at the well, disappointed by men, and rejected by the women of the village. Jesus regarded neither one as either a dog or a pig. He saw them as people with hungry hearts, and they responded accordingly.

But there are those with hard rather than hungry hearts. They are the ungodly, the sinners, and the scornful of Psalm 1:1.They are like the judge in Luke 18 “who did not fear God or respect men.” They are the enemies who took David’s men ad cut off half their beards and bared their backsides in order to humiliate them. They are like the religious leaders of Jesus day who were more concerned with impressing people than with being right with God. There is nothing more doggy or piggy than self-righteousness, and to lay out the Gospel patiently and clearly with this kind of people is not only to see this precious truth trampled, but also to invite them to tear you to pieces as well.

But let’s be clear. That is exactly what Jesus did. He shared the Gospel, even with these type of people, and turn on Him they did. They turned on Him and tore Him to pieces. And He did this in order that we - you and me, could be saved from our own doggishness and piggishness. And the power of God’s grace is such that it can take dogs and pigs and turn us into those who gradually look more and more like Jesus.

The Problem of Prayer

The Problem of Prayer

There are a good many things about which our talking outpaces our doing. I would put prayer in this category. We talk about prayer more than we pray. Why? Why is prayer such a problem?

There may be a host of reasons, but one would be our desire to solve our own problems in our own way and according to our own schedules. We can put it on “pause” if we want. But when you make that problem a primary feature of your conversation with God, then you have lost control of how to manage it.

Also, we talk to normal people about a lot of dumb stuff. We can “shoot the breeze” with friends and then walk away and forget that it happened. It makes no difference for them or you. But you cannot talk to God about “dumb stuff,” and prayer is certainly not “shooting the breeze.” We are not accustomed to the exposure of deep-level communication with the divine.

In Colossians 4:2, Paul says, "Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with an attitude of thanksgiving.” Do it; take it seriously; and be happy about it. It’s important. Note that Paul goes on to say, “conduct yourselves with wisdom toward outsiders,” that is, those outside the faith. As I understand this passage, you do not have a lick of hope of having wisdom with outsiders apart from prayer, that is, without that deeper level of communication with the One who is known as Wisdom.

Paul then goes on to say, “Let your speech be always seasoned with grace,” which again, is impossible without prayer. The summary here would be that you can do nothing good without prayer, because you can do nothing good without divine direction. And yet, we find ourselves failing to submit to this practice and discipline.

Tim Keller has written a great book on prayer that makes the following point: “To fail to pray, then, is not to merely break some religious rule—it is a failure to treat God as God. It is a sin against His glory. ‘Far be it from me,’ said the prophet Samuel to his people, ‘that I should sin against the Lord by failing to pray for you (1 Sam 12:23).’”

I think that is a great point that brings us back to where we started. Why is prayer such a problem? We confess that we can do no good thing without it, and yet we stubbornly refrain from its practice. Why? Because we do not want God to be God of our personal business. We don’t want to hand Him the keys to our castle. We want to choose our own options and say yes to our own solutions. But these will not be solved from out of the resources ofsin-clouded hearts and minds that serve as the operating systems of our own selves. We need help from above. So we understand that we should bow before Him. But we would rather than others bow to us. And we understand that we should confess to Him plainly and honestly our failings and our prejudices. But we would rather focus on the failings of others. And we understand that we must be willing to wait for God’s direction. But we want an instant answer. And we understand that God may require some instant action or correction on our part. But we would rather put that part off.

You see, there really is not a problem with prayer. The problem is with me.

Judging the Judge

Judging the Judge

I am thinking about God as Judge. It is something that God is, not just something that He does. Yes, God is other things alongside of Judge, such as Creator and Redeemer, but He is still Judge. For God to fail to function as Judge, it would be an instance of Him not being who He is. He would cease to be God. Is that what you want?

A friend complained that God should “practice what He preaches” when I mentioned Sunday’s passage, “Do not judge so that you will not be judged” (Matt 7:1). He had observed that God Himself judges, so He should not tell others not to judge. I’ve been a little fired up ever since. My friend does not understand that there is a difference between man and God. He seems to think that God should abide by man’s rules, and that God’s judgments and ours are similar. They are not.

We make judgments, but they are based on limited knowledge and most often self-interested. God is Judge, and His ability to Judge is not compromised in any way. He is not swayed by rhetoric or frustration. He does not judge more severely when He has a bad day. His judgments are always perfectly righteous.

A metaphor of the potter and the clay is used in the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah. It is not difficult to understand. God is the potter; His people are the clay. Note what Isaiah says: Is. 45:9 “Woe to the one who quarrels with his Maker — An earthenware vessel among the vessels of earth! Will the clay say to the potter, ‘What are you doing?’ Or the thing you are making say, ‘He has no hands’? Now let me apply this to our “judge” discussion. God is the Judge, and we are those standing before the judge. God sits in judgment against us, but we do not stand in judgment against God. He has an authority as “God” that we do not have. It is part of what is contained in the word “God,” a sovereign being who rules from heaven. We believe in one, true God who is sovereign. Part of this is only logical. Two gods cannot be sovereign, because the sovereignty of one will impinge on the other. There can only really be one sovereign, and thus, one supreme Judge. And, it is not me or you.

So for a mere human, no matter how rich or smart, to stand in judgment of God - it is just foolishness. But it is not a slaphappy kind of foolishness. It is of the tragic kind. Because we can go through life and decide how God has shorted us one way or another; how He hasn’t been fair; or how God has failed to acknowledge our sterling qualities. But all of that is standing in judgment of the very God before whom we will one day bow. He is the Judge; not me.

This all reminds me of the atheist who was carrying on about the non-existence of God, but then blurted out, “and I hate him (God) so much.” I wonder if that is not buried in the mindset of the person who objects against God’s prerogative to judge in a way that supersedes our frail judgments. I wonder if we have a sneaking resentment that God is God and I am not. Is it possible that we would rather have the
world bow to ourselves rather than us living in a holy fear of God which produces a humility so that we would bow before His judgments?

We should be glad that there is a Judge with a righteous standard. This Judge will hold all evil accountable to His judgment and punishment. We should also be glad that this Judge is also a Savior, and that He has provided for forgiveness for those who submit to His salvation in Christ, and thus escape the condemnation due to those who have lived their lives faulting God instead of examining themselves in the light of God’s Word.

The Eclipse of God’s Glory

The Eclipse of God’s Glory

From Texas to Maine, people will be flocking to “the path to totality” in order to see a full solas eclipse. It is a notable event, and aside from widespread FOMO (fear of missing out), scientists and astronomers, professionals and amateurs, are interested. The sun is the dominant feature of our solar system, and it is jarring for the sun to be obscured, even for a few seconds. But what about the eclipse of God’s glory?

How’s that for a transition? But let me give you one parallel: you can’t look directly at the sun, due its brightness or glory, without physical damage. Nor can a person see directly the glory of God and live. Moses asked to see God’s glory, and God said, “You cannot see My face, for no man can see Me and live!” (Exodus 33:20). Our vision of God is a mediated vision. We see God in the face of Jesus Christ, or we don’t see Him at all (2 Corinthians 4:6). We don’t need funny-looking glasses to “see” God. We need Jesus, - faith in Jesus.

One feature of Monday’s eclipse is that the “culprit” of the eclipse is a piece of rock called the moon. There are many, many moons.They produce no light of their own, but our moon is able to obscure the sun’s glory for a few seconds on a narrow track across our continent. I am more interested in the obstructors which obscure the glory of God across the centuries and much more widely. Let me suggest a couple:

Spiritual blindness: it is the condition of being unable to ascertain heavenly things (Nicodemus), a casualty of the human race falling into sin. The Bible says that we are all spiritually blind, and that it is the Spirit of God, along with faith in Christ, which removes our blinders. The sad point is that spiritual blindness is universal apart from regeneration, and yet people are unaware of this spiritual blindness. They see many glories in the world, but they are not able to see the glory of God or God’s connection to these created glories. In essence, people are left to worship the created order rather than the Creator, because they have not yet been bowled over by His glory.

Unbelief: we do not overcome spiritual blindness by trying harder. We come to a place of despairing in out own abilities, and then we turn to Jesus who is able to open the eyes of the spiritually blind, even as He opened the eyes of the physically blind. This “turning to” Jesus is a step of faith, and it is an abandoning of the unbelief that has reigned in our heart. This new faith leads to a new life, and a new vision of the glory of God.

World News interviewed David DeFelice, a NASA retiree who has an appreciation, not only for the glory of the sun, but also for the glory of God. He notes that “NASA talk(s) about solar eclipses on Earth (as) a convenient coincidence, because the sun's diameter is 400 times larger than the Earth and the Sun 400 times farther away than the moon. .. (Y)ou can .. see how God did that, and that’s not just an eclipse.”

I believe his point says this: that for those who have been gifted with a vision of the glory of God, we see the glory of God everywhere in creation. We hear it in the frog’s croak and the bird’s song, and we see it in the movements of the sun and moon.

Psa. 19:1 “The heavens are telling of the glory of God; And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.”
Psa. 119:18 "Open my eyes, that I may behold wonderful things.”

I pray that you will not miss out.

The Book is Better than the Movie

The Book is Better than the Movie

A well-intentioned lady asked me about the difficulty of coming up with new material after preaching in the same place and to the same people for so long (completing 38 years this week with this Resurrection Sunday being our 39th). I told her that the Bible was a very big book. She was not convinced, and then tried to persuade me that I should give “Chat gpt” a chance. Evidently, the system knows more than I do. I suspect some people think the system knows more than God does.

Yesterday, while driving, I listened to an interview from a pastor’s conference involving John MacArthur and John Piper. I thank Chris for sharing this, and it was worth hearing on many counts. The questions were about pastoring and preaching, and the subject of what to preach, of how to find material, was asked. MacArthur didn’t hesitate to talk about “the inexhaustibility of Scripture.” Yes, it’s a big book, but it is a deep book. The mysteries uncovered are worth reviewing over and over, not just in the sense of reviewing the same material, but in the sense of discovering new, buried treasure.

Then John Piper talked about the amazing thing that God, the Creator of the universe, gave us a Book. “He gave us a Book!”, Piper said, with the kind of passion that is typical of Piper. “Why wouldn’t we want to tell people what’s in the Book!” Further, he said, “God knows everything, and we know nothing. How could we not want to know what is in the Book?!”

I have a friend who read a book (little “b”) that introduced him to a method of reading the Bible where you don’t take it literally. I suggest that he no longer takes it seriously - same thing. The Bible becomes a wax nose that can be shaped and re-shaped according to “the spirit of the age.” The Bible then merely reflects back one’s own imaginations, which you didn’t dream up yourself. You assimilated them from our ungodly, present-world milieu.

So let’s think about this Book:

It is historical, and prophetic, where God lays out our beginnings and our endings. Are all of our questions answered? No. But He gives us what we need, and we are not left to concoct our own story lines. It begins in Eden. It ends in heaven or hell. Anyone interested in reading the Book?

The Bible is logical. It has a narrative, and it elucidates a problem in which we all share, and reveals a solution that is available to any who will receive. Worth reading?

The Bible is climactic, and the climax of the Bible is Jesus. If you want to know Jesus, you must read the Bible, and if you miss out on Jesus, you will have missed out on the Center-Point of the world, human history, and God’s plan for humanity and for you. Are we able to step far enough away from the reigning media and read the Book?

The Bible is the deliverer of Good News so good that you can’t live without it; and it is also the deliverer of bad news that if you don’t pay attention, “you will surely die,” as God said to Adam and Eve in the Garden. We need both, and while these two “news” may be contained in a tract or a movie, the authoritative version of the Good and bad news is in the Book, because the Book is always better than the movie.

I Just Want to be Left Alone

I Just Want to be Left Alone

You might hear the sentiment, “I just want to be left alone,” from many different people, young or old. We live in a marketing age, and there are more groups using more methods to seize upon our attention. Most of us receive unwelcome scam calls and uninvited text messages. And then, the email comes asking you to take a survey. “I just want to be left alone.”

But to be honest, the sentiment goes beyond media. A person leaves a busy day at work and just wants to be left alone, only to open the door of the house to a high level of chaos. We might find there is a full schedule of school meetings or children’s (or, adult’s) activities that have turned from being opportunities to obligations.

And then there’s the preacher. He just keeps talking about God, God, God - and a person might respond, “I just want to be left alone.” But that’s a problem. We were made for fellowship with God, and God is intent on inviting you into that relationship. He has many methods of invitation.

There is a verse in Psalm 8 that asks the penetrating question: “What is man that You take thought of him, And the son of man that You care for him?” God is interested in you, and He wants what is best for you, which includes you being interested in Him. But you say, “I just want to be left alone.” That is, you would like to be autonomous. But you are not. You and I are daily dependent upon gifts from God to continue living; things such as oxygen in the air and rain for the crops and food on the table. God has to do with all those things, and without Him, they would not exist. So are we actually saying, “I just want to be left alone, except for all the necessary things”? And if we lack any of those things, guess what happens? We blame God for not doing His job.

Thank God He does not leave us alone, and thank God, He uses many methods to gain our attention. Sometimes it is a kind word or a sweet blessing. Sometimes it is a broken heart, or a broken back. Many people have found their interest in God resurrected when lying in a hospital bed or kneeling at a graveside.

Independence from God will not yield the satisfaction that you are seeking, and submission to His proper place in your life will help you find the meaning and purpose that each of us needs. Independence will produce shallowness and selfishness. Submission will relieve the pressure of orchestrating what you were never designed to do.

Let me give you one more reason, whether any of this sounds attractive to you or not. We live every day immersed in graces that God gives - from the simplest of pleasures to the most profound experiences that we can have on this earth. God, though He invites, does not coerce. And so, when you tell God, “I just want to be left alone,” well, He may just allow that, for the rest of your eternal life. But beware, He may just do what you have asked - and with His absence go all of those graces which have made your life enjoyable, or even tolerable. And then, you will probably blame Him.

The God I Never Knew

Several years ago, I was on the lookout for cedar shakes which are now on the gable ends of our house and above the front porch. I found a supplier at, of all places, the Trufant flea market. There was a man there named Johnny Fish who had driven an old couple home from Florida, and then lived with them and worked for them on a farm in Six Lakes. He had a separate little barn with a large circular saw set almost horizontal which turned cedar logs into shakes.

I visited more than once, sometimes dealing with Johnny Fish, and sometimes Mr. Petersen. Later, Johnny didn’t seem to be around, and then I had an unusual encounter with Mr. Peterson. He asked me if I would come into the house with him. I had never been in the house before. I had seen his wife at the door on previous visits, but not this time. I guess he knew that I was a pastor. I don’t know how people know, whether its how we walk or how we smell, I’m not sure. But he asked me to come in and then led me back to the bedroom.

He said his wife had died recently, and then, in the bedroom, he pulled open the top drawer of a dresser which I assumed had been hers. The top drawer was filled with pieces of paper on which were written poetry. Mr. Petersen started to cry, and he said, “I never knew my wife wrote poetry. I never really knew her.” Two people living as relative strangers for decades in the same house. Oh, I’m sure they knew a great deal about each other. But he didn’t know the interior of her life. He hadn’t bothered to notice. He hadn’t expended the energy to ask. He may have been too occupied with self.

We could talk about marriage health and all, but I’m thinking about “The God We Never Knew.” This God has given to us His Word, written over a period of 3000 years by many different authors, but all inspired by His Spirit so that it says exactly what He wants it to say, not written for Him, but for us. It is so that we can know who He is in truth, not just what we would like to imagine Him to be.

Now we must be clear, God knows us inside and out. We are not a mystery to Him. He does not need to read our poetry to figure us out. He knows us better than we know ourselves. No, it is we who need to know who God is, and it is not an
intuitive process. Intuition only allows us to project what we see in ourselves on others.

No, the need that we have is to get to know God, and that happens through a relationship with Jesus, by faith. But faith must be formed, and the formation of that faith comes through the content of what God has given us in His Word. We need to actually open the top drawer of the dresser and pull out the Bible and read what it says, take it to heart, and act upon it. We need to allow those words to facilitate an
introduction to God that allows us to know Him as He is, which will lead to worship and submission.

I don’t know much about how husbands and wives will relate to one another in heaven. But I’m sure that there will be no one in heaven who is left to admit, “You are the God I never knew” - the God you never bothered to notice; for whom you never expended the energy to seek; perhaps too occupied with self.