Don’t Bet on It

Don’t Bet on It

Gambling is having its moment. But I’m not sure it’s a moment. Once accepted as acceptable, like living with your girlfriend, I don’t think society will trend back to a a higher morality or more wise sensibility. Gambling is a game, or, if you are poor, your last best chance to solve your problems. It’s a dumb game and a worse life choice, but let’s think about it.

First, I’m not an expert gambler, so perhaps you may think I have no standing by which to weigh in. And, I am confused about what gambling is and what it isn’t. I would wager (no, I wouldn’t) that you are confused about it as well.

Was Warren Buffett a gambler? No, most would say that he was an investor. What is the difference? One factor asks if the activity leans toward chance, or skill. Buffett was a skilled investor. Some perhaps could “play” the stock market, and for them it would be gambling. No skill. In addition to skill, gambling demands that you put something like money on the bet. A guessing game is not a gambling bet unless you put money on it. Buffett, of course, invested lots of money. But the money alone doesn’t make it gambling. And also, is there a prize? Bragging rights that you were right and your buddy was wrong is not a gambling prize. But if you are able to win something of value, it may be gambling. Buffett won on many of his investments, and lost on a few as well. It seems that it was skill that sets him and other serious investors apart.

The point that makes sense to me is whether it is a serious thing or a play thing. Gambling seems to be a play thing. Since it is a game of chance, it is not serious. It is dangerous. We do not know what tomorrow holds, and research simply cannot reduce the level of chance. The number of factors involved make the serious likelihood impossible.

We take risks every single day, and we may be confused at times as to whether a “gamble” is involved. We want to be responsible and serious, and there are ways to do that. But it seems necessary to remind ourselves that only God has no risk and never gambles. Why? Because He knows at once all the contingencies of yesterday, today, and all the tomorrows for eternity. It is a reason to trust God, because we dare not trust ourselves to weigh all the factors which we cannot possibly assemble in our poor and prejudiced brains.

Perhaps the presence of “discretionary income” explains the rise of the gambling industry. We are a prosperous people, and many have money left over after the bills are paid. What to do with it? Gamble it away. I’m not sure I believe this theory, since poor people seek to get in on the gambling as well. When they lose, and they will, they have no way to get out of the hole they have created.

But I would like to question the validity of “discretionary income” for the Christian. We believe that life and all that we have is a gift from God, and as His servants, we are to steward our resources, not primarily for the good or pleasure of ourselves, but for the good or glory of the Master who redeemed us. Has God blessed us with “discretionary income” so that we can buy lottery tickets or place a bet on how many points some basketball player that we don’t know will score or what will end up being the balance of Republican vs. Democrats in the House and Senate following the 2026 elections? Is that why he has placed us in this particular tie and place, so that we can blow money on vapid games?

In the parable to the talents, three who were accountable to the Master were given various sums to invest, with the principal and interest to be returned to the Master in the future. Two were serious. One was a lout. He dug a hole and threw the money in. Was he commended by the Master? Don’t bet on it.

If … Then

If … Then

The Bible is written in words, and those words comprise the Word of God. The Spirit of God superintended over men to write, using words, that which God wanted written. The writings bore the style of the writers, using their vocabulary and grammar, and yet they wrote exactly what God wanted. We call this the inspiration of Scripture. No other set of writings is so inspired.

In our daily emails, we have been studying patterns of words and phrases in the Bible: all the “but’s” of the Bible; things sinners say; most recently, references to pride. I have looked at all the promises of the Bible, and will likely sample the “do not’s” of the Bible in future daily emails. But right now, I’m working on “if … then” statements.

“If … then” statements are conditional statements rather than absolute. Oh, there is an absoluteness to them, but it is conditional on the action you or another party take. The very first “If … then” statement in the Bible is in Genesis 4, and it is God speaking to an angry Cain, who even at this moment may be contemplating the murder of his brother Abel. God says to him, “If you do well, will (you) not be lifted up? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door; and its desire is for you, but you must master it.” (Genesis 4:7 NAS95) You will notice that there is no printed “then” in the text. It is understood. We do the same thing in our contemporary speech.

I take “doing well” or “not doing well” to refer to how one approaches God. Abel approached God with an acceptable offering, with a sacrificed lamb, foreshadowing our approach to God through the sacrifice of Christ. Cain had approached God with goods from the garden, things which quickly rot. He had not done well, but it appears that he still could do so. But if not, then sin is lying (better than “crouching”) at the door. It is lying in wait. It is seeking to gain the upper hand. God says, “you must master it.” But, can you?

The stakes are high. If you do well, your will be raised up. I take that to mean an offering that admits the need for atonement that will result in forgiveness and favor. If you do not … well, that is another story, and a sad one at that. “You must master it.” But can we master sin?

The account of much of world history is that men and women have more often been mastered by sin rather than they themselves mastering it. For many, life is comprised of a difficult dance with sin, seeking to blunt its attacks and mitigate its influence. We seek to hide it and keep it secret. We end up being deceptive about sin, and thus deceive even our own selves. We find that as we seek to manage sin, it manages us. We excuse and rationalize and blame. But managing sin and mastering sin are two very different things. And with sin at the door, we have to be on our game all the time.

I am glad that in the face of our failure to master sin, God has followed the “if … then” with a “so then.” In light of our inability and unwillingness to defeat the sin that is at the door, both inside and out, God sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sin. That is, Jesus is the One who came and lived the one sinless life that has ever been lived on this planet, and then died the only satisfactory, sacrificial and substitutionary death in our behalf. He mastered sin when we could not. He mastered sin for us. He mastered sin for those who will recognize Jesus as their Master.

I do not have the last word on this, thank the Lord, but it appears Cain never found or accepted his or God’s mastery of sin. He went his own way, did his own thing, and died his own death. He died with his sin, and away from God. He could have done better, by following Abel; by following Christ.

Your Clock and Your Calendar

Your Clock and Your Calendar

I have this scenario in my mind that is of a cartoon nature. Moses is up on Mt. Sinai taking dictation from God. The content is the Law of God, the covenant stipulations by which Israel will be held accountable. Every word is important. But dictation in those days was difficult. Moses would have been using some kind of stone chisel on stone tablets. It had to be hard work. And so as God speaks the words of God, Moses takes dictation, and finally, in frustration, Moses says to God, “could You please slow it down a little?”

The irony of this is that we say the exact opposite to God all the time. God is working out His purposes in human history, shaping nations and individuals according to His infinite wisdom. If we were to multiply all the pleas directed heavenward, there would be many voices saying, “Could you please hurry it up?”

The point, of course, is that we are not in charge of God’s pacing. It is wrong for us to think that God, the Creator of heaven and earth, should accommodate our clocks and calendars. In fact, to a large measure, I would hold that our clocks and calendars matter little to God.

There verse in Galatians 4:4 reads: “But when the fullness of the time came, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the Law.” I’ve sat through calendar meetings, and I’ve heard people say of a suggested date, “That doesn’t really work for me.” Could you hear Joseph or Mary saying such a thing about the birth of Jesus? “God, this is not the ideal time for me.” But what Paul is saying in Galatians 4, among other things, is that the fullness of time is decided by God, not by you or me. How could we possibly know anything about the fullness of time or the skinniness of time? We have already forgotten the lessons of yesterday and we don’t have a clue about tomorrow. How could we possibly decide? And if that is true for the birth of Jesus, I suspect it is also true of a whole host of other things as well.

You might sit with your clock or your calendar and plan things out very carefully. You try and cover all the angles; all the contingencies. And do you know what happens? Something interrupts. God interrupts. Your calendar is soon filled with scratch marks.

Jesus said in John’s Gospel, chapter 7, “My time has not yet come.” He implies that there will be a time when His time in fact has arrived. But not yet. He seems to know something of that time. The disciples do not. God is bringing together many threads that will result in the death of the Messiah, in the fullness of time; at just the right time. The disciples are thinking about human risk factors. Jesus is thinking about eternal salvation. It will involve His death, His time.

Are there calendars written this week that have that kind of “time,” the day of one’s death, planned out? We don’t know, do we? But God does. Our clock and calendar will not reflect that major death-event in our plans, but God already knows. And, we yield to His perfect plan. We yield to it because we have no other choice.

Let me just add one more thought on top of the last. It says above, “we yield to His perfect plan.” We have being talking about God’s choice of time, but we should also think about God’s choice of Person, of His Son, Jesus, as the fulcrum of history and the source of salvation. If you really want to yield to His plan, you will keep your eraser close to your calendar, but you will also bow before His Person. Just as your calendar does not dictate to God the order or timing of events, neither do you get to choose your own savior. God has appointed only one, and His name is Jesus, and according to Scripture, the time for you to accept Him is now

- 2Cor. 6:1   And working together with Him, we also urge you not to receive the grace of God in vain — 2 for He says, “AT THE ACCEPTABLE TIME I LISTENED TO YOU, AND ON THE DAY OF SALVATION I HELPED YOU.”
Behold, now is “THE ACCEPTABLE TIME,” behold, now is “THE DAY OF SALVATION” —

Sad Christmas

Sad Christmas

It has struck me this year more than before, and it struck me again sitting next to my mom at her assisted living, listening to a guest group from a church singing Christmas Caroles. So many of the caroles are sad. Now maybe the choir had something to do with it, but they were doing something very nice for the residents, so I’m not going to blame them. Several caroles are written in a minor key. Some are sad. Some are downright depressing.

You might decide that sadness is in the ear of the listener, and that those songs wouldn’t be so sad if weren’t for my already sour disposition. Well, thank you for that, but if you don’t hear the sadness in the songs, then your sappiness has stolen your senses. There is something wrong here, black clouds and heavy hearts.

The Roman Empire rules. Herod is the fake king, given authority by Rome. The soldiers are not hidden, and the crucifixions on the road out of Jerusalem are sickening. The God that they worshipped has been silent for 400 years, which is a really long time (four hundred years ago for us would have been 1625). That’s how long it had been, and the people of God’s faith had grown old and brittle. The promises of God seemed stale. Little freedom and little hope.

So sad songs? What other kind could there be, given the situation? The authors of the caroles, written years and even centuries after the birth of Jesus, are seeking to catch the mood of “those living in darkness.” And then, finally, Jesus is born, and the Great Light shines.

When we get to this point, we think that every problem is solved, but it’s not. As Jesus lives and grows and then dies, Rome is still in power. Right after Jesus is born, baby boys around Bethlehem are murdered, because of the birth of Jesus, as interpreted by Herod. For so many families, the child is gone, and this First Christmas is Sad Christmas.

And this year, this Christmas for many will be sad due to the empty places around the tree and table. But Jesus has come, and that makes all the difference. And yet, and yet … does it? Because Jesus has come, and the chair is still empty. Yes, every tear will one day be wiped away, but that’s the rub - one day, not today.

For those who pray for a solution, we say that there is one, and there is. The solution is found in Jesus. He is gathering His people, and many children will come home. And we are glad for all the young people who find their way back. But the Scripture says a remnant will return, meaning that many will not, and we are not sure about yours, or if you will be alive to see it.

Christmas is sad when it is just about me and mine. It is the fallacy of judging the truth with only the facts at hand, and with the feelings of the heart. Christmas can only be glad when our faces are lifted to heaven, and we say with meaning, this is not all there is, and there the richness of the community of believers will be full and fully satisfying to all who are included. That is faith that battles with our feelings, and the feelings of those who suffered heartache and loss in very real ways. Our faith asserts that “it will be worth it all, when we see Jesus,” though it is difficult to explain now.

One of the caroles Mom and I heard sung, that should have been happy, but sounded sad, was “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day. The third verse goes, “And in despair I bowed my head: ‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said, For hate is strong, and mocks the song Of peace on earth, good will to men.” Don’t get stuck in the third verse, for the song goes on and reminds us that our feelings can’t grasp the grandness of the finale. Only there from that perspective will we find meaning and comfort, and only by faith. 

Heart of Hearts

Heart of Hearts

I’ve heard the phrase used, and used it myself: heart of hearts. I supposed it meant, deep down. This is what I seriously think, or deeply love, in my heart of hearts. 

The phrase (or something quite similar) seems to have been first used by Shakespeare in Hamlet, a book, and an author I never read. We had no serious literature in my high school (which is a poor excuse), and though I read a lot of history in college, not a lot of literature. I’ve been drawn to a few significant authors since, but never Shakespeare. I think maybe I should read Hamlet.

I don’t really know the story, and I’m not sure it matters. When I think of “heart of hearts,” I tend to think a little more theologically rather than in terms of literature. Now to be sure, two people can think about something theologically and come up with very different views. But hear me out.

I am thinking about Mary, who would be the mother of Jesus, and the strange appearance of the angel who informed her of what would soon happen. She would conceive a child by way of the operation of the Holy Spirit. This was not a suggestion. It seems not to have been an invitation or a proposal. It was a statement: this is what will be.

And yet, as we read the text in Luke, Mary says the following at the end of the conversation with the angel: “Behold, the bondslave of the Lord; may it be done to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38). She consents to what God has ordained. And so now I ask a sticky question: did she operate according to her free will?

This is where my own definition (not Shakespeare’s) to the phrase “heart of hearts” comes in. Mary willingly assented to the plan of God that would seriously upend her life because her heart was in His hand. God had taken Mary’s heart in hand and had prepared her for a very special life of service, unbeknownst to her ahead of time, and when your heart is in God’s hand, you can’t say no. Yet she herself assented personally and freely, though she could do no other. 

Oh, I believe that there are many cases where people in fact have said “no” to God. I have to admit that I have done so myself, though I would prefer to speak of Biblical examples, like Jonah. Perhaps most of life is filled with these examples of being able to take a right turn or a left, to follow God’s will or, our own. But then there are these critical moments, in our own lives, or in Mary’s, or perhaps also Moses’ experience.

As Moses stood at the burning bush and was commissioned to represent the people of Israel before Pharaoh, the supreme leader of Egypt, and perhaps the most powerful man in the world at the time, he was dead to rights. Oh, he tried to says “No,” more than once; in fact, many times. But God would not have it. You will lead my people. Moses embraced the calling. It seems he could do no other. His life was in the hand of God, and the heart of God had mastered his own heart, even though Moses’ heart desperately sought to avoid what he knew would be a very difficult, seemingly impossible situation.

I have more thoughts about this, but the perfect picture is that of Jesus, whose heart was in the heart of the Father, and at each step, He fully agreed and fully consented to do the will of the Father, even at great cost to Himself. Jesus could have done no other. And if that is true of Jesus, why would that not be true of you?

Big Brains and Bad Hearts

Big Brains and Bad Hearts

Big brains and good hearts: they do not necessarily go together.

I’m thinking here about the human brain, that neurological organ that is studied and continues to amaze. What are the limits of the human brain? And the heart? I am not thinking of the heart studied in cardiology. I am thinking rather of the Biblical heart, from which flow the issues of life (Proverbs 4:23, “Keep your heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life.”

By “big brain,” I mean smart people. They are people who use their brains to remember and to synthesize and to figure things out. They have a hunger to learn, and they want to know how things work. They want to be able to do what others do, whether to learn the art of juggling, or to design tall buildings. We know that the brain can develop strengths in many different directions, and that it can be a powerful tool. Oh, and it was created by God in man and woman, and it has served them well, though not as well as we would have liked.

A “good heart” is a bit of a puzzle. This is the heart that the surgeons cannot find when they open your chest. It is the center of your being, and is immaterial. Your heart is the real “you.” It shapes how you think and how you act and react. Your spiritual heart causes you to see yourself in a certain way, and to see the world in a certain way. Your most noble thoughts and actions arise from your heart. So do those thoughts and attitudes and words and actions over which you are most ashamed (or, should be)

Would it make sense that those with the biggest brains would also have the best hearts? It is a pleasant fantasy, and yet it is not necessarily so. There are brilliant people who have very dark hearts. There are very simple people who seem to have hearts that are unusually sincere and pure. Neither does it work in reverse. A person with a good heart does not immediately become “brainy.”

In redemption, that plan of God to bring about the recovery of this fallen world, and humans in particular, – where does God begin? Does He begin with the brain, or the heart? You may know the answer, and yes, it is the heart. In theology, it is called regeneration,and Jeremiah and Ezekiel describe this “heart change” in metaphorical terms (since, after all, we are speaking of things spiritual, not physical). Jesus describes it as being born from above, or being born again. But it doesn’t start with the brain. It starts with God’s attention to our heart.

So once the heart is cured, why does it not spread to the brain? Oh, it will, in measure, over time, if one follows the Word and the Spirit. But these brains of ours are going to be distorted to one degree or another until the renewal of all things, when Jesus comes again. In fact, the more we depend on our brains without coming to terms with their deficiencies, the more likely we will be given over to pride and a kind of certitude that refuses to admit that one is wrong.

Well, at least we have whole hearts, right? No, even there we find that our hearts are “prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.” Our hearts are gradually being discipled even as we remain anchored to Jesus, seeking to learn from Him, in dependence upon the Word and the Spirit. Welcome to life in a fallen world. Big Brains. Bad Hearts. And a few who are on the road to restoration.

The Crooked made Straight

The Crooked made Straight

What if there were a medicine that would straighten out all that is crooked? The toothpicks fall out of the box on the floor, and there they lay in all directions. What would it take to make them straight? I think of the crookedness as disarray; as things not being the way they are supposed to be. And sadly, there is much that is not the way it is supposed to be.

What if gratefulness straightened out all that was crooked? Suppose you are near-sighted, or far-sighted - it does not matter which - something is wrong, and there are things you can’t see clearly, whether near words or distant birds. What if, through the regular practice of gratefulness, your vision could improve?

It actually does, you know. Oh, I don’t think for a minute that gratefulness improves your physical vision, but what about your spiritual vision, your ability to see the goodness of God in every corner, and what is important over against the trivial, and the value of persons made in the image of God and loved by Him. That is pretty good vision, and many of us find ourselves shortsighted.

What if the regular practice of thankfulness could rid ourselves of aberrant cells in our body that threaten to reproduce and create a cancer that seek to destroy us? Again, God can cure cancer, but your thankfulness cannot. But your thankfulness can cure cancers of the soul, such as bitterness, or apathy, or selfishness, or resentment. And while I do know that there will be no cellular cancer in heaven, I believe that we should not be content to live with spiritual cancer in the meantime. And a regular practice of thankfulness may be the medicine that we need.

You may regard yourself as a thankful person. I hope that it is true. Do others hear you complain? That would be a red flag, wouldn't it? Do you find in yourself patches of soul-ish illnesses mentioned above: bitterness, apathy, selfishness, resentment. I mention them because I find them in myself. Do you find them in yourself? They are dead patches in the green lawn of gratefulness, and the dead patches are generally more noticeable than are the green areas.

Do you brush your teeth? Of course you do. I’ll leave flossing aside, since it seems to be a different matter, but we all brush our teeth, probably twice a day. Do you spend some time in thankfulness twice a day? Perhaps that is more like flossing, something you do once in a while. But do we really think that soul decay is less a problem than tooth decay? Yes, a bad tooth really hurts. But a bad soul carries a pain that is worse, though different. Soul pain may actually affect more those around you than yourself; soul pain is keenly felt by the Father, the Giver of such good gifts, while we may be oblivious.

Come, ye thankful people come, be thankful, and be healed.

Three-in-One

Three-in-One

The wonder and mystery of the Godhead is beyond us, and yet God has revealed Himself as the Three-in-One. One God, and yet three Persons. All illustrations are lacking, but here is my attempt:

In the mind of the Father is the most beautiful color that exists. The beauty of this color exceeds anything else that you could find in creation. If you were to see it, it would take your breath away. If you were to behold it, it would change your life. But, you cannot see into the mind of the Father. That which your heart desires and your soul seeks - it is beyond your reach, deep in the mind of God.

But God (oh, that little phrase), - but God - was unwilling to keep this beauty to Himself. He desired that it be shared, and that you see, and be changed. And this is where the second Person of the Trinity comes in. You see, it is the Father’s place to conceive the color that is beyond the beauty of any other color. But it is given to the Son to communicate the color. “And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us. And we beheld His glory (that color), the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth (the beautiful color of grace and truth) (Jn 1:14, less the parentheses). When we see the Son, we something of the being of the Father, not physically, because the Father is Spirit. But we see something of who He is, His character. And, it is beautiful beyond words.

We see the beauty of the most majestic color hidden in the mind of God when Jesus speaks, and when He refuses to speak. We see it when He confronts, and when He overwhelms; when He forbids, and when He welcomes. We see it in all the ways that He lived; and we see it in the one way that He died. We see the beauty of the Father in the face of the Son. It takes our breath away, and we are changed.

When you are told of the beauty in the un-open-able can of heavenly color, you wonder. And when the lid is taken off the can, you see and believe. But it does not end there, does it? Because there are not only two members of the Godhead, but three: Father, Son, and Spirit. They are together God, and they are each one, God, one God. Their beauty is/are functions of all Three.

The beautiful color of paint in a can is indeed beautiful. But God never intended for that color to be observed, as in a museum. He intended for it to be displayed, to be expressed, to be worn. And so the Spirit applies to the lives of those who believe the beauty of the color that is demonstrated in Jesus and conceived of by the Father. We are adorned with such beauty, frail and foolish creatures that we are, and we are able to then continue to share what God the Father willed to have shared, as displayed by Jesus, with the assistance of the Spirit. The hidden beauty in the mind of the Father is revealed in the Son, and then applied to those who believe by the Spirit. It takes our breath away, and we are changed.

Grasping and Grabbing

Grasping and Grabbing

When Eve gave birth to Cain, she gloated over what she had gotten from (in spite of) the Lord. This is not how the text is rendered in NASB or most of our translations, but it would be a literal rendering. God had said, “You will surely die!” And she said, “Oh yeah! Not only didn’t I die, but I gave birth to another life!” Cain’s name is a transliteration of the Hebrew word for “get.” She “got” what she wanted. It seems to me a tale of grabbing and getting, grasping for what one wants, and it usually comes at a cost.

Another re-translations of mine is in Philippians 2, where Christ considered that equality with God was not something to be grasped. On the other hand, He “took the form of a servant.” But the word “took” is also translated in the active sense “received.” He didn’t grasp; He gave up something of great value. He did not “take” as if to steal what was not His. He received that which no high and holy King would ever want.

Jane and I have had both kinds of experiences, just in normal daily life. One category would be the purchase of a car. They cost money, you know. And at times, not having all that much, you decide what you can afford, and then you borrow. But in our case, there have been times when we have waited, and God has supplied something, not necessarily free, but on the cheap. And we enjoyed it as a gracious gift. Grace is so much better than grasping or grabbing.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," the saying goes, and that applies to those vehicles for which I was most fond. That first Isuzu Trooper, damaged on three sides in a car accident, was a treasure. I got it for cheap and found replacement doors and had a blast with it. The Chevrolet Cavalier that was rear-ended received new life when a new body was given and the old engine placed in it, for free, by friends - more miles of grace and kindness. Other cars, when we “got” what we wanted and paid the price - not so satisfying. I am not sure how to categorize every case, but you know grace when you receive it.

The way of Jesus is in being given, and in giving; not grasping and grabbing. Salvation is not grasped or grabbed. It is received. Service happens as we step away from something that is nice for something that is better - hot chocolate at home vs. sitting and listening to a broken soul. Jesus did not call us to “get ahead.” If He would have done so, we would still be stuck, guilty in our sins. But He stepped aside from the most glorious to the mean and gritty. He did not grasp, but He gave. And He expects His followers to do the same.

Winning (now) is not Everything

Winning (now) is not Everything 

We have heard the “winning is everything.” Is it, really?

As I write, two baseball teams are left, playing for the right to be called World Series champions. They are scrapping and fighting, because winning is everything. You cannot be called “champion” unless you win the last game. But do you know what will crop up in the post-game discussion? “What about next year?” It seems that winning it all this year is not everything, since there is always another season.

Yes, there is always another season, and that changes the calculation on how we think about winning. So what if you did not win the final game? Were there accomplishments along the way that were actually more important than winning the final game? Were lives changed, or goals met, or a brotherhood formed, that will survive long after the celebration of a last game victory? Winning is not everything. What if your struggles in the present season are preparing you for what you will experience in the next season? Is that “winning”?

For Christians, the next season is not in this earthly life. Whatever accomplishment you may achieve here, it may not count for much over there. Winning now is not everything. Being the winner in the money sandbox is not real winning. Nicest house or fastest car? No. Travelling around the world. These may all be nice things, but they speak only to this-world accomplishments. They are not indicators of doing well in the next season.

There are believers who have served the Lord in difficult places who will be regarded as winners in the next season - the season that counts. There will be relatively less-gifted people who stewarded their gifts well who will be more richly rewarded than those with greater gifts, because they used well what they were given. There will be those who lived very short lives who, in those short years, accepted God’s plan for their shortened lives and served faithfully and testified clearly that living a short life in right relation to God far exceeds the value of living a long life in this world only to find that the ladder they climbed is leaning against the wrong reality.

I still think of Joseph, who married Mary, Jesus’ mother. He accepted the situation of a pregnant fiancé, though it was difficult to understand and impossible to explain. He obeyed God, at risk to his own life, let alone that of his wife and baby. He moved and started over and worked and prayed. And then he disappeared. No one would call Joseph a winner. Joseph went from marginal character to a missing person. Winning is not everything. 

And though I don’t know the whole story, I suspect in the next season, when we stand before God on the throne, Joseph and those like him may receive more honor than those who seemed to win it all in this world.

Adiaphora

Adiaphora

“Adiaphora” is a fascinating word to think about. It’s Greek (αδιαφορα), and the form above is plural. The website GotQuestions.org defines it this way:

Adiaphora, the concept of “things indifferent,” offers Christians a means of navigating non-salvational differences within the body of Christ, especially in matters that are neither strictly commanded nor forbidden by Scripture. Rooted in both biblical principles and historical application, adiaphora encourages believers to focus on core doctrines while allowing freedom in non-salvational matters.

Interestingly, this particular word does not appear in the Greek New Testament, but the concept certainly does. Consider Romans 14:1:

NASB: “Now accept the one who is weak in faith, but not to have quarrels over opinions.”
NKJV: “Receive one who is weak in the faith, but not to disputes over doubtful things.”

Those “doubtful things” are adiaphora.

They are not unimportant—but they are matters about which sincere Christians may disagree. Some hold strong convictions on one side; others, equally sincere, on the opposite. Yet these are not tests of faith. In our polarized age, we often struggle to handle disagreement graciously, but not every issue is ultimate.

Adiaphora in the NT came to include circumcision. As Paul’s pattern with Titus and Timothy shows, you could do it, or not. Today, we might think of subjects such as where to send your children to school, or the efficacy or ethics of vaccines, or the appropriate use—or avoidance—of certain technologies.

Scripture does not speak directly to these issues. We may differ, and still remain one united fellowship of believers, in full agreement with the truths Scripture clearly teaches.

In the early church, a sect called the Gnostics claimed to possess “secret knowledge.” Variations may still appear today with those who claim insight others supposedly lack. Yet the truth is, we all know far less than we imagine. Our knowledge is partial, and humility requires that we acknowledge it. We should certainly learn from one another, but always, like the disciples, we are called to “watch and pray.”

When the Bible speaks, we have God’s revealed truth—what He wants us to know, with certainty. Yet even then, our understanding is not exhaustive. God reveals what is necessary for faith and godliness, not everything there is to know. Therefore, wisdom and grace demand that we admit the limits of our understanding.

A quote often attributed to Richard Baxter, the English pastor who lived in the 1600’s in England and author of The Reformed Pastor, captures the point well: 

“Unity in things necessary; liberty in things unnecessary; and charity in all.” 

Wiersbe’s Reading Room

Wiersbe’s Reading Room

Many of you will recognize the name Warren Wiersbe—pastor, conference speaker, and author. Born in 1929, Wiersbe devoted his life to helping others understand and love God’s Word. Shortly before his passing in 2019, he donated his vast personal library to Cedarville University. That collection now has a place of honor in the university’s new Bible building: The Wiersbe Reading Room.

Jane and I were there for homecoming a couple of weeks ago. Between events, while others were catching up with old friends, I wandered into the reading room. Before long, I found myself surrounded by Wiersbe’s books—and drawn into one in particular.

Every volume I opened bore his name neatly inscribed on the flyleaf. The shelves were filled with a remarkable variety: theology, pastoral works, devotionals, biographies. Wiersbe himself wrote extensively—his well-loved “Be” series has been a staple in our Ladies’ Bible Study more than once. 
One important rule governs this room: no book may leave it. “Of every book in the room you may freely read,” I joked to myself, “but from the room no book shall be taken, lest you surely die.” (Genesis 2 speaks of another subject entirely—but the rule seemed just as serious here.)

Lately, I’ve been especially interested in Augustine of Hippo—a towering figure from the time of the Roman Empire’s fall, known for Confessions and The City of God. Augustine’s writings contrast the crumbling city of man with the enduring city of God.

On a shelf, one title caught my eye: Augustine the Thinker. I opened it and began to read—and before long, lost all sense of time. The pages felt crisp, almost untouched. It seemed that Wiersbe himself may never have opened this copy. Of course, with 13,000 volumes in his library, who could possibly have read them all? Still, I smiled at the thought that perhaps someday, in heaven, I might tell him what he missed in that book. Though, considering he may be in conversation with Augustine himself, I’d have to wait my turn—and I imagine there are no interruptions in heaven. I’ve since ordered a copy of Augustine the Thinker for myself—though, for now, it’s out of stock.

What was it that made this small experience so meaningful? Was it the room’s unmistakable “bookish” scent? The quiet sense of Wiersbe’s presence lingering there? Or perhaps it was something deeper—the realization that this well-known giant of the faith and an ordinary pastor like me share something essential: a love of books, yes, but more importantly, a love for the same Savior.

It may have been the simplest moment of the weekend, but it has become one of my favorite memories from homecoming.

It Will All Work Out in the End

It Will All Work Out in the End

An intriguing story in the Bible is found in Joshua 9, called the Gibeonite Deception. Bob is probably covering this chapter this week in adult Sunday School, so I will try not to steal his thunder, though one verse sticks out: “the men of Israel … did not ask for the counsel of the LORD” (v.14).

It all worked out in the end, since the Gibeonites became “hewers of wood and drawers of water” for the Israelites. Just think, every day, heavy chores that the Israelites themselves would have had to do, they had slaves to do for them. What a blessing! It all worked out in the end. Except for the hidden costs. What costs?

Again, Bob will tell the full story on Sunday, So let me just read between the lines a little, and say that one of the reasons that Israel was to destroy the inhabitants of the Promised Land, including the Gibeonites, was because of the evil influence the idol-worshipping inhabitants would have on Israel which was to worship the one true God, the LORD, and God alone. But instead, they kept that evil influence in their midst. Are we to suppose that the evil influence did not in fact influence? We do not want to harbor cancer in our bodies, nor evil influences in our souls.

A cross-reference to Joshua 9:14 is Numbers 27:21. Someone was needed to lead the people of Israel after Moses, someone upon whom rested the Spirit of God. It would be Joshua, a uniquely suited candidate. If the people would just follow this man, it would all work out in the end. Right? That’s not what Scripture says. Our trust is not to be in the wisdom of men and their best ideas or strongest intuitions. It is to be in the guidance of God. What is the counsel of the Lord?

The text tells us (Numbers 27:11) that even the great leader Joshua is to go to the high priest, in this case, Eliezer, and seek the counsel of the Lord. Eliezer, the high priest, was outfitted with the Urim and Thummim, a breastplate by which God would signal His will. It is mysterious to us, and it is not in use today. We are to follow the dictates of Scripture and the leading of the Spirit, and not just one’s individual leading, but the counsel of spiritual leaders. This is in line with 2Pet. 1:20 “But know this first of all, that no prophecy of Scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation.”

Are there exigencies in which we are justified in acting without God’s counsel? Are some crises so urgent that we need not ask for direction from above? I suppose that someone, somehow, could come up with a scenario. But such a situation is not common in life, and yet we act as though most every situation is so urgent that we must just do what comes natural, out of reflex, and not from a place of prayer that seeks the counsel of the Lord.

And do we think that it will all work out in the end if we just continue to go our own way and do what seems right in our own eyes? Or should we rather prepare to slow down and ask, along with the disciples of Jesus, “Lord, teach us to pray” (Luke 11:1)?

The End does not Justify the Means

The End does not Justify the Means

Our title is a common phrase that has been used in philosophy and in practical life for years and years. Some agree. Some disagree. I would like to view it from another perspective.

Many people, though not as many as at an earlier time, still believe in something called “moral absolutes.” These are encoded in such things as the Ten Commandments and other scriptural texts (“scriptural” can refer to other religons’ sacred texts). One of the important features of such moral absolutes is that they are actually written down.

But it seems many more people today have embraced moral relativism, in which the standards of morality are decided by the mood of society at the moment. What was forbidden before is allowed now. And it is not only allowed, but it must not be criticized, and further, must be affirmed. That is moral relativism encoded in public policy.

In a morally relativistic world, the means to an end are justified by the desired end. Censoring unfavorable opinions is allowed because of the absolute importance of a view that only came into vogue yesterday. People are not invited to think and debate, but only to agree, or be silent. That is but one example.

But the perspective from which I would like to evaluate the phrase, “the end does not justify the means,” (a phrase that I fully embrace, though I may not always practice it so faithfully), is based on the following verse: “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may be recompensed for his deeds in the body, according to what he has done, whether good or bad.” (2 Corinthians 5:10 NAS95)

Some day, when we stand before God (and, we will all stand before God), we will be judged “for his deeds in the body, according to what he has done, whether good or bad.” This applies, in different ways, to both believers and unbelievers. For believers, we are saved and forgiven by faith in Christ. But our obedience and disobedience will be noted in relation to our (un)faithfulness. For unbelievers, such sin will be used as confirmation of their unrighteousness, for which they will be condemned, having not received the righteousness available in Christ.

Does anyone really think that they will only be judged for the ends they pursued, and not for the adoption of all kinds of cruel and selfish acts to achieve the “noble” ends? Does not “his deeds in the body” include, and even refer more specifically, to the smaller, daily acts of disobedience(the means), even if we sanctify them in our own minds as excusable? And one more time, if we agree that the highest and best End that supersedes all other ends is “to the glory of God,” then can we really posit that our dirty schemes of lying and deceiving contribute in any way to the high and holy End of glorifying God? I believe that there will be many self-righteous do-gooders at the judgment who will be shocked that God was not so pleased with their moral relativism and abandonment of Biblical and constitutional norms as they were at the time.

No, the ends do not justify the means.

Lashed to the Mast

Lashed to the Mast

I’ve read a lot of books over the years, and remember things from a few of them. One memory that I’ve retained is an image provided by pastor Eugene Peterson who wrote a book called “The Contemplative Pastor.” The illustration that he used was from classical literature, from Homer, and his book, “The Odyssey.”

The main character of The Odyssey is Odysseus, captain of a long-departed ship seeking to make their way home. One of the destructive dangers that they would face on their journey would be the Sirens’ songs, so alluring that they would be tempted to approach these beautiful figures, and would crash on the rocks.

To counteract this temptation, Odysseus filled the ears of his crew with beeswax. He then had himself lashed to the mast so that he would remain true to the mission and not pulled aside by the intoxicating songs of the beautiful maidens.

Peterson likened his ordination as being lashed to the mast. He was to be a Pastor, and one according to the dictates of Scripture. That was his mission. There are many voices that entice pastors to do something else, to do something more, but Scripture gives an outline of what God expects, and he would be lashed to the mast, steadfast in doing those things and those things alone.

My understanding of these priorities for pastoral ministry has two such imperatives at the top of the list: preach the Word, and pastoral care. That is, preach from the pulpit, and minister the Word face to face, with one or two at a time. There are many other things that pastors can or could do. But to me, following Peterson’s advice, they are to be left for others to do. It seems that they should be able to be done by members of the congregation that God has assembled.

Having adopted a corporate-style church government, many have accepted that the pastor is CEO of the organization. He is to cast vision, and assemble a team, usually a church staff, that will carry out that vision. I don’t find it in the Bible. The best youth workers we ever had were Jim and Linda, regular members who opened their hearts and homes to the young people. The best music leader we ever had was Jeremy, who led songs from the heart as he led the congregation in worship. That is the church being the church, as the pastor is allowed to pastor.

Interestingly, Peterson has written a raft of books. Perhaps we could call him a pastor of pastors, though I wonder how this is related to being “lashed to the mast.” It seems a bit like a siren’s song. It seems as though he didn’t completely followed his own advice.

But then, neither have I. I’ve done plenty of things that needed to be done, but would have been better done by someone else. All pastoring is serving, but not all serving is pastoring.

You Live in Our World Now

You Live in Our World Now

Recently an Amish family near Greenville, MI was traveling home. It was raining, and a truck decided to pass them as they drove their buggy, left wheels on the pavement and right wheels on the shoulder. The truck crossed the double yellow line and then had to swing back suddenly as he saw a car approaching. He sideswiped the buggy carrying a dad, mom and five children. The baby in mom’s arms died. Mom is in critical condition in the hospital, along with the other children. Dad alone did not need medical treatment. The horse had to be put down. 

I was surprised when discussion concerning the accident blamed the Amish buggy. The baby should have been in a car seat. There need to be more restrictions about where and when they can use the roads. In other words, you live in our world now. You have to fit in.

Never mind that some years ago, horse and buggies were the rule, and cars were the problem. And never mind that in just a few years, owners of self-driving cars will be saying the same thing about error-prone human drivers. You live in our world now. You have to fit in.

And never mind that we can be downright sure the driver of the buggy was not distracted by his cell phone, but we have no such certainty concerning drivers of cars. And never mind that the truck driver seemed to be in a great hurry, when the Amish communities have refused to make “hurry” a thing. But, you live in our world now. You have to fit in. 

I am not seeking to espouse an Amish lifestyle, though I find their ways intriguing. All of mankind and its various cultures are beset by sin, and the Amish are not exempt. But I am also interested how it is that we as Christians live in a world system that says to us, “You live in our world now. You have to fit in.” 

Perhaps a well-known and fitting passage to which we can refer would be Jesus’ Beatitudes that lead off Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. Jesus says that we should be “poor in spirit,” but the world says that we should be full of ourselves, talk loud and be first in line. Jesus says that we should mourn over sin, but the world says, “who’s to say what sin is? Accept yourself.”  Jesus says we should be “addicted” to righteousness, but the world offers a host of other addictions. And then they say to us, “You live in our world not. You have to fit in.”

Paul tells us in Philippians that “our citizenship is in heaven.” It is the home for which we are being prepared. We should not be surprised that we don’t fit in well with the world. And if we were made for another, better world, why should we even want to fit into this one.

But just to check that thought a bit, this is not the world’s world. They may act like it, but we still sing the song, “This Is My Father’s Word,” since He created it, after all. That hymn contains the phrase, “and though the wrong seems oft so strong, He is the Ruler yet.” Yes, He is. So when the world says, “You live in our world now. You have to fit in,” perhaps we can reply, firmly and graciously, no, we live here as followers of Christ and have a right to the side of the road, dangerous as it may be.

And He Died.

And He Died.

The opening chapters of Genesis are packed with varied and exciting things - Chapter 1, the order of creation - Chapter 2, the narrative of Adam and Eve - Chapter 3, and then, their fall - Chapter 4, the first murder. Of course, all good things must end, and so when we come to Genesis 5, we have a genealogy of sorts, a story of men and their sons and their lifespans. After each one, there is this final epitaph: and he died.

It is the story of humanity under the curse of sin. God had predicted it, and then He followed through - in the day that you eat of that tree, you will surely die. And man surely did, that is, he surely ate, and he surely died.

And so it is surprising that we are shocked at death. You hear that so and so died. You say, “You’re kidding! What happened?” Well, what happened is what happens to every one who is born into this world. They die. You will die. I will die. Shocking? Not really.

There are exceptions. You are most likely not going to be one of them. In Genesis 5, in the 7th generation from Adam, a man named Enoch was born. All before him died. But Enoch did not. The Bible says, rather cryptically, “Enoch walked with God; and he was not, for God took him.” He didn’t die by going down. Rather, God took him up. It is an exception, the only one thus far, and it would be generations and generations before such an instance would occur again. It is the exception that proves the rule: we are all going to die (99.999%).

Elijah was a prophet of God that served during the dark days of King Ahab in Israel. Elijah’s life was precarious, at least from a human point of view. Ahab desperately wanted Elijah dead. But Elijah didn’t die. Rather, he was swept up in a whirlwind and carried by horses and chariot to heaven. It’s an amazing story, and part of the reason that it is amazing is that he didn’t die, but the rest of us will. It is the human thing to do.

And then we come to Jesus. We must always come to Jesus. Jesus died, young. “You’re kidding! How did it happen?” It happened in an unusual way, not that unusual for thieves and insurrectionists, but certainly rare for a Jewish rabbi. He experienced capital punishment. He died. But then, He rose from the dead to die no more.

There are other resurrections in the Bible. Jesus Himself raised Lazarus from the dead only a short time before His own death on the cross. But there is a difference. Lazarus died twice. He lived, died, was resurrected, and then died again. Jesus lived and died, but rose from the dead to die no more. He entered not into a second phase of temporal life, but into eternal life - the life that He offers you and me.

Jesus invites us to become one with Him by faith. It is not that Jesus is assimilated to you, but rather, that you are assimilated to Him. There are physical acts in which Jesus engaged into which He invites you to participate. He died, for a reason, for your sake, to bear the punishment of your sins. He invites you live a life that is dead to sin. He rose from the grave into new life, and a new kind of life. He invites you to walk in newness of life, a life in which the last chapter is not, “and he died,” but that we live, and live forever, never to die again.

How to Get the Best Seat

How to Get the Best Seat

Whenever we seek the opportunity to attend a special event, we may spend some time trying to wrangle the best seat that we can afford. Who wants to sit behind a post, or in the “nose-bleed” section? No one. Who wants to be able to brag about getting the “best” seat? Evidently, a whole lot of people.

The religious leaders of Jesus’ day loved the best seats. This is mentioned in Matthew and Mark and Luke. Here is the Luke verse: Luke 20:46 “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and love respectful greetings in the market places, and chief seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets.”

They had arranged to gain those seats, whether through money or holding the early advantage. They wanted this for, most likely, a number of reasons. Jesus states that there was the desire “to be noticed.” There may also be the assumption that they deserved it. And if you have surplus coin, why not spend it on such a “worthy” cause?

This drive to “get for one’s own self” is prevalent in our society. There seems to be no stigma attached to it, and perhaps there are some readers who would wonder what stigma should be attached. The addictions to self-promotion and self-satisfaction are woven deep into us. They seem not to be present in Jesus. This creates a problem for those who would be imitators of Jesus.

Let’s ask a couple of uncomfortable questions. Where is my neighbor sitting? Why, we probably don’t know and will only find out later. As we tell of our great seats, they may mention their crummy seats. We do understand, don’t we, that when the great seats are taken, the crummy seats are left, right? And why did we get the great seats? Is it because we are more important, or more worthy? Even culture-bound Christians know better than that.

Then what is it? It seems that we have made peace with a “me-first” approach to life that leaves those without connections or coin to fend for themselves, and if they bother to go to the event at all, see if from a distance. You may say, “that’s how it works in America.” You are right. My point is that it won’t be that way in heaven. 

Jesus amplifies the point in Luke 14 when He tells the parable about the man who chose the chief seat only to be demoted to the last in disgrace. Jesus said it would be better to choose the back seat, and if the host so chooses, he will “promote” you. And who do you think the “host” is in Jesus’ parable? Why, it must be God Himself! God-promotion beats out any kind of self-promotion. Or, to use Jesus’ words at the end of the parable: “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 14:11 NAS95)

Take a Look at the Book

Take a Look at the Book

I have a confession to make. I’ve had the book for years, but I haven’t looked at it. I thought about it several times, but was “too busy” or “in a hurry.” There is really no good excuse. I just chose not to take a look at the book.

In the meantime, I chose to do what I thought was right. I had a vague memory of this rule or that, but I wasn’t sure, so I just did what seemed right at the moment. As a result, I did it one way some times, and another way at other times. For those who know and abide by the rules, it must have driven them nuts.

The book in question is Warriner’s English Grammar and Composition. The price sticker on the front says $7.95. I’ve had it a long time. The binding is quite stiff from non-use, but the red, exterior binding is faded from sunlight on a neglected shelf.

It could have helped me in writing this weekly newsletter over the years, but much more so with the Daily Encouragement emails where I make heavy use of quotation marks as I refer to Bible verses. Does the punctuation fall inside the quotation mark, or outside? I did what seemed right at the moment. But upon referring to the authority of the book, I found that commas and periods always appear inside quotation marks, colons and semi-colons always outside, and question marks and exclamation points, well, that depends (pp. 659-653).

This all could have been remedied long ago, much to the relief of my sister and my daughter. But you pretty much know by know that this is not the point. It’s the illustration.

How many people use the very same approach in living life, and choosing what to believe, and understanding what is true about humanity and about divinity and about sin and salvation? They choose what seems fitting at the moment, and if they choose differently later, well, who is to say? They know that there is a Book, the best-selling Book in all of history, and they could have taken time to look at the Book, but no, they decided to rely on vague memories or what seemed best or what was good in their own eyes. They decided that their own reason was more trustworthy than God’s revelation, or that a psychologist who asks questions is more insightful than a prophet who hears from God. As a result, they have lived foolishly, and wrongly. 

The Bible introduces us to God. It tells us about Jesus. We need to know that story. It shows humanity’s origin in the mind of God and in creation, and also our destiny in either heaven or hell. These are things that we need to know, and could know, if you would take a look at the Book. 

One day we will stand before God. Pleading ignorance to His will and ways will not be an option. He sent us a love letter in the form of the Bible, and we chose to live without Him. Take a look at the Book.

Keeping our Balance

Keeping our Balance

Keeping one’s balance is essential to prevent falling down. We do so by paying attention and by being careful. And even then, we still find ourselves on the ground at times.

Keeping balance in the Christian life also needs attention. A wise author who goes by Anonymous wrote a book called “Embracing Obscurity.” As you might guess, it did not make the bestseller list, and the author did not become famous. And that is fine, because that was not his/her aim.

I saved a quote from this book that I’ve read more than once: “We have to be intentional about: (1) remembering our roots, (2) remembering our purpose, and (3) remembering our limits.” I think of this as keeping one’s balance as a Christian in a world that would like to see us cast down. It is an approach that will protect us from pride, self-centeredness, and self-sufficiency.

Let’s review the three points in turn. How does the Christian remember his/her roots? Think back with me to Abraham, previously an idol-worshipper far removed from any promise or Promised Land. It was only because God revealed Himself to Abram and took hold of his life that Abraham “learned” faith in God and traveled to a new place and discovered the blessing of living under God’s rule. As Abraham remembered his roots, he could not dismiss the fact that his life and blessing were due, not to his own efforts, but to the grace of God.

This is true for every believer. We were all saved from idolatry. Our hearts were (and are) naturally and sinfully drawn to worship all the wrong things until we were laid hold of by Christ. The fact that He is now our Love and our Lord is due not to our own goodness or virtue, but to the amazing grace of God that saves sinners from themselves.

We are also remember our purpose, which is to serve as a representative of Christ in the world, together with other believers. We are not here to “do well for ourselves” or to “make a mark” or “leave a legacy.” Those phrases pretend that you exist and God doesn’t. No, we are here to serve the interests of our Lord. We have no “secular” tasks, since every endeavor is for Jesus, even if it sweeping the parking lot. What we do, we do for Jesus, and if we can’t do it for Jesus, then we ought not be doing it.

We also to remember our limits. We serve the Messiah, but we are not messianic ourselves. We are not professionals, or experts. We are simple disciples, learners and followers of Jesus who seek to make much of Him in our own lives and to do so visibly and with humble explanation to others. We do not care if they know our names so long as they know Jesus’ name. May we by anonymous so long as Jesus can be known.

It seems that, as we forget these things, the Christian and the Church lose their balance and fall down.

Jumping Off Your Own Shadow

Jumping Off  Your Own Shadow

One of the pleasures of riding a bike, especially in the early morning or later afternoon, is the exercise of chasing one’s own shadow. There you are, bike and body, laid out in monochrome on the road ahead, and one is actually motivated to go faster - you know, to keep up with the shadow.

So long as the sun shines, we all have one, that is, our shadow. We don’t have anyone else’s. Just ours. And, it seems to be an appendage to our body, distorted, but which also always tells the truth. We are not quick enough to get away from it, even quicker than that light in the refrigerator that the frugal man wants to be sure goes off when he closes the door. The shadow is there, so long as the light shines, and it is there whether it is front of us or behind us, whether we see it or not.

I read a story about Alexander the Great who, as a young man, even a boy, was introduced to a group of men studying a great horse. The horse had proved to be uncontrollable, but Alexander observed and then took the halter. He had noticed that the horse was afraid of his shadow, and so if he positioned the horse toward the light instead of away from it, the horse remained calm. Are we like the horse, afraid of our shadow?

Why would we be afraid? Because the shadow tells the truth. But the good thing about shadows is that there is no record. As soon as we move, it is gone. But is that true? What if someone takes a picture? Does not the picture record the shadow, even if you are out of the frame? Shadows can be recorded, and just as we, on occasion, see our shadow, God does as well, always.

The world seems to be devoted to the elusive task of erasing signs of our identities and activities. We don’t want to be tracked. We certainly don’t want to be recorded against our will. But when God created the heavens and the earth, He included something in the very workings of the world, even when He made the first pronouncement, “Let there be light,” that would include us having a shadow from which we cannot jump.

For those who are afraid of their shadow, or afraid of being investigated or tracked, the only alternative seems to be to walk in darkness. No shadow there. And that applies to men and women throughout the centuries and in every place. It applies not just to the shadow on the wall, but to the record of our souls. We suppose that if we live outside of God’s gaze, we can hide our shadow. But that is not true, is it? Listen to these verses from Scripture: 

Job 34:22     “There is no darkness or deep shadow 
    Where the workers of iniquity may hide themselves.
Job 12:22     “He reveals mysteries from the darkness 
    And brings the deep darkness into light.
Psa. 139:12     Even the darkness is not dark to You, 
    And the night is as bright as the day. 
    Darkness and light are alike to You.

The point is not that we should chase our shadows or seek to escape them. The point is that the only proper course is to embrace the God who sees us completely, and loves us anyway.

Life is Always about Giving Up One Treasure for Another

Life is Always about Giving Up One Treasure for Another 

The title of this post is a famous quote, oft repeated, but I haven’t been able to track down its source. It is, of course, Biblical. Hear this verse from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount: Matt. 6:19 Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. 20 But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal.  The implication is that you cannot do both at the same time. Again, let’s listen to Jesus: Matt. 6:24 No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.

Let’s think of a common example: marriage. When one finds a “treasure” and proposes to her, he is giving up one treasure for another. From a world-ish point of view, he once could do pretty much as he pleased. But now, in light of this new covenantal relationship, he is to be occupied with pleasing her as well, and even pleasing her before himself. Having just celebrated 45 years of marriage, that “treasure” exchange was well worth it.

From a Biblical point of view, we recognize that we are all slaves of something. Many are slaves of their own passions, often times the pursuit of money, and so that subject is already addressed the second Bible reference above. We all serve something, often our own selves. But when we meet Christ, we are re-directed to serve others before self: Phil. 2:4 Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. When we meet Jesus, we find One who has done this very thing even as He provided redemption for us: Matt. 20:28 even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.

Let me give you one more Bible illustration: Moses. God rescued him at his birth and then placed him in Pharaoh’s household in Egypt, taken from slavery to royalty. He live and grew in privilege and prosperity. But he had a heart for his people, and so he left the palace for the wilderness, entered into a long-running conflict with the most powerful man in the world, and then a life of leading an obstinate people in the wilderness for 40 years. Centuries later, the author of Hebrews says of Moses: Heb. 11:26 He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward. He gave up one treasure for another. The first treasure was but temporal; the latter, eternal.

One could take the quote from our title and use it to better himself/herself in this world. But that is not really the point, is it? The greater point is, will you choose the treasure that is “out of this world” more than the treasure that is bound by this world, which also serves to bind you to the fate of a world? Jesus, like Moses, left the palace of heaven to ransom or redeem obstinate people like ourselves, who would then be called “His people”, having accepted His loving leadership in our lives. 

Life is always about giving up one treasure for Another.

Short-Form Addiction

Short-Form Addiction

We know that digital communication has changed the world. It has changed our life patterns, and even the ways that our brains work. It has required new equipment built for the new technology, and we go along. No need for pencils and paper. No need for newspapers or books. No need for a Bible.

The most recent phase of short-form communication is video - a clip from a TV series; stunts on trick bikes; amateur tree- cutting fails. You can find these on YouTube and Facebook and all the others as well. I’m not personally familiar, but it seems to be how TikTok came to be. But short-form video is taking over text. And, it is addictive.

The algorithms feed you what it has figured out you like to watch, and you can spend a couple of hours lost in the disjointed stream. But at the same time, you are so immersed that you don’t know how much time has gone by until you “wake up.” And then, if you have any sense left, you feel silly for having wasted so much time.

When is the last time that you found yourself immersed in a good book? When was the last time that you were that immersed in your Bible? How often do we lose track of time in prayer? But the new “short form” has you in its grip, and it has changed your brain. We need to get it back.

For those who have been trained by “short form”s for frequent satisfaction from clever snippets, working through a book is so much harder. Reading and searching your Bible for God’s answers to your questions is difficult and demanding. Thinking about how to pray for a person with a difficult problem, and what you can do to help the situation and not hurt - and asking God for wisdom and opportunity to proceed - these are not matters of brain tease. But it was what we were designed for.

Our brains were not designed to be tickled, but worked. We need to learn how to work our brains.TV started it so many years ago. Magazines brought the glossy pictures. The theater perfected video and sound effects. But the small screen of a computer, laptop, tablet, and phone has taken us into our own little worlds where we can click and sample as though we live in a candy store, and when we emerge from that session, the lack of nutrition is comparable.

As you might expect, I wonder how this affects sermons, or more importantly, sermon-listening. I wonder how many are ready for short-form sermons - just a punchy thought or inspiration for the hour, then on to something else. And if you could put it into a 10-second video, then if you want, you could flick past it, or even, on that rare occasion, listen to it and repeat it once again, just so you could digest that whole piece of nothingness.

In the Temptation, Jesus said, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” God did not split His words into tweets or put them into a short-form video. He spoke in context, at length, with great variety of contexts and voices, speaking to the heart and soul; to the understanding and will. But to get it, to digest it, it takes some time away from the screen. We need to get our brains back.

Ribbons of Air; Ribbons of Prayer

Ribbons of Air; Ribbons of Prayer

For those of us who love cycling, I’m not sure the primary attraction. I mean, it sure beats walking. You get to see more scenery in the same amount of time, but, of course, you can do that in a car as well. There is something about the breeze and the speed and the effort that makes it way better than golf.

When you pedal for more than a few miles, you have time to think. And since we are human, one can think about some pretty dumb stuff. One could, for instance, wonder what would happen if one of the front forks broke on a 40 m.p.h. downhill; or if a brake cable broke; or a deer stepped out in front. All of these could be precarious, and the precarity may lend itself to the thrill.

One of my “dead time” bicycle thoughts is about that thin ribbon of air the separates me and my bike from the asphalt. I know fat tires are all the rage, but I still love my 23c tires, so little rubber touching the road and lifting only about a half inch from the pavement. That ribbon of air that keeps youafloat is just “there,” and yet it makes the whole experience possible. Without it, there would be much scraping and sliding, and the experience would be ruined.

Which leads one to think, if you have a strange brain like mine, about ribbons of prayer. In the experience of life, there are rough surfaces and jagged edges, and without a buffer, like a ribbon of air on a bicycle, there will be many bruises and scrapes. But what is that buffer in the experience of life? Some would say that it is “smarts” or awareness. You’ve got to look out for yourself. I suppose that would work great, if the problem wasn’t also in your own self. What is your buffer then? Others may point to education or money or friends. Again, those things may help, so long as the education educates you for the tests that actually occur in life, and they are not predictable. Or if the money runs out, or it fails to buy things that really satisfy. And friends, they also can disappoint, as you know.

We need something more consistent than these things, something deeper, and more profound. We need a relationship with God with whom we can talk and wonder and seek the help that we do not yet know that we need. We need a conversation with Someone who knows us better than we know ourselves. And we need that conversation to be always available. A ribbon of prayer.

Is this even real? Is it possible? Yes, in a relationship with the living and true God, rooted in the reconciliation accomplished by His Son, and enabled by the ministry of the Spirit. Yes, we find this in a ribbon of prayer with the Trinitarian God. Richer. Fuller. Deeper. 

Rachmaninov’s Tractor

Rachmaninov’s Tractor

Sergei Rachmaninov has been one of my favorite classical composers for a long time. He was a great pianist with big hands and could cover a lot of territory on the keyboard. He composed for symphonies and concertos for individual instruments, such as piano and cello. His choral work, “Vocalise,” is beautiful.

Sergei grew up and performed in Russia just before the 1917 Russian revolution which swept away the Czar and serfdom, and brought in the terrors of Lenin and Stalin. It was a very difficult time for “professional” people as the peasants raged, with clearance from what passed as government at the time, pillaging and killing those who had any marks of privilege associated with their lifestyle. Rachmaninov certainly fit this description, having a large farm which was worked with about one hundred horses.

But Sergei had seen pictures of this new thing called an American tractor, and what he saw, he wanted. He approached a government agency to get approval for the purchase, and the official sought to persuade him to stick with horses. But the man asked, “But if you got one, what would you do with it?” Sergei responded, “I would drive it myself.” The official put through the approval. These things take time, and before he could ever get his American tractor, Sergei and his family had to flee the country, and they came, of all places, to America, where he performed his works, without a farm, and without a tractor.

We feel bad for Sergei, but it fits the category of things that we sincerely desire, but that we will never get. The world offers so many things, but there are strings attached - hoops to jump through; forms to fill out; credit (debt) for which we apply; changing circumstances; and, the brevity of life. Face it,
you will never get all those things the world offers that grab your attention and your heart. And when we live this way, we die disappointed and bitter.

Abraham, not a pianist, also died without having received what was promised. But he did not die disappointed and bitter. He died hopeful, in faith that what God had promised, God would in fact deliver. In fact, Abraham has more and better than was promised. Praise the Lord. God and this world are two very different entities (I am speaking of “world” here not as the created order which God called “good,” but of the present world order which seeks to deny God’s existence or to treat Him as though He does not matter). The world promises, and yet extracts. It gives in order to own you. It eats its own. God, on the other hand, gives, not always presently, but will deliver, perhaps now, and certainly in the end, in ways that surpass our desires and expectations. God is building a people and is building individuals who will wait in hope for the best, which is yet to come.

There are a lot of old men who just love tractors. That’s fine. But a tractor is not capable of delivering lasting joy. Why? It is a rusting, deteriorating relic of this passing age. The new age, reserved for those who happily receive God’s gifts (most importantly, His own Son), will be characterized by this lasting joy. No disappointment; no bitterness.