We Live Like Kings

Kings have not been a part of the American experience. When our nation was formed, our wise leaders worked hard to avoid the role of a totalitarian ruler. They remembered from whence they came. And so, we have a representative republic. No king.

The idea of kingship was also foreign to Israel in its early days. Foreign nations indeed did have kings, but God was Israel’s King, and He ruled initially through Moses, the prophet, God’s spokesman. It came as a shock, then, generations later, when Israel demanded a king from Samuel. It seems as though they were rejecting the Kingship of God! But the seeds of kingship can be found way book in the Law, in those words that Moses wrote under God’s inspiration, in Deuteronomy 17.

It has been said that we in American live like kings. To a degree, this may be true, with regard to our luxury. Not, thank goodness, with respect to our authority. But if it is true that we live (a little) like kings, then it we might consider the warnings and instructions given to future kings in Deuteronomy 17. There are three warnings:

• Do acquire many horses (transportation)

• Do not acquire many wives

• Do not acquire excessive silver or gold

Scripture says to the king, “Just because you can doesn’t mean you must.” It says, “Set limits on your selves.” We should do the same.

With regard to instruction, the text says that the king is to make his own copy of the Law of the Lord in his own hand. Painstaking? Yes. Helpful? Of course. Sometimes we take notes, not so much to review them later, though we may, but because the very act of writing may help us listen better. It helps to internalize the message.

But the king was to do something with that personal copy: “he shall read it all the days of his life.” We might call it “daily devotions.” Call it what you will, make sure that you do it daily, so that we might not just imitate the kings of the world, so often models of really bad behavior, but rather, that we might prove to be humble subjects of the King of Kings, even though he has allowed us, in His providence, to live a little like kings.

Jesus Himself, King of kings, modeled a role that required a new term. He was the Servant-King, and we would do well top follow His lead. 

Love Your Neighbor

The command to “love your neighbor as yourself” is famous. It’s context in Leviticus 19, not so much. But it’s that context that may help us understand what is involved in loving our neighbor.

The command to “love your neighbor as yourself” is in Leviticus 19:18. It concludes a short passage on treatment of those around you. That section is preceded by other regulations, unrelated to neighbors, and is followed by more of that same kind of thing. But there is clearly a “neighbor” paragraph.

“Don’t reap to the corners,” and don’t “gather the gleanings” (vv.9-10). Don’t take it all. Leave some for the needy. Leftovers are God’s gifts to be shared, not gobbled up by the greedy. It’s an aspect of being neighborly, and of being loving.

“You shall not steal, nor deal falsely, nor lie to one another” (v.11). This hardly needs comment, except in a world where, in order to get ahead, one is willing to do whatever it takes. But that/this world is not godly. It does not express God’s love. Better to do without than to get ahead at the expense of others.

Do not “oppress” your neighbor, so as to put him in a vice, a tight spot. If you owe him, pay him. Don’t withhold. Don’t make him ask or beg. Further, do not take advantage of the deaf and blind. Take pains to look out for them, anticipating their peculiar hardships. Look at life from the perspective of others, and take measures accordingly (vv.13-14).

“Judge your neighbor fairly” (v.15). Interestingly, the text says that “thou shall not be partial to the poor nor defer to the great.” Treat people the same, not with differing standards of justice, though, as in the last note, with special levels of consideration. This section goes on to warn against slander, and, curiously, “you are not to stand against the blood of your neighbor” (v.16). Calvin suggests that these are “vagabonds, who too eagerly run about hither and thither, and in their malignant inquisitiveness penetrate into everybody’s secrets, to bring quiet people into trouble.” 

Leading up our key verse, we are told not to hate, but “you may surely reprove” (v.17), as it says in Matthew 18:15 “go and show him his fault in private” - not publicly, to destroy him or his reputation, but alone, so as to “have won your brother.”

Finally, within our key verse (Leviticus 19:18), we hear the double admonition: “You shall not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge.” Let it go. Forgive, as we ourselves have been forgiven. There are no old offenses to rehearse; no stories to tell about how bad or dumb someone is. After all: he’s your neighbor, whom you love.

One point then, that must be taken, is that the well-known command to love neighbor, following after the command to love God, is not to be merely a slogan or a banner. It is practical, to the point of being painful, and it is to be put into daily practice in our lives. Indeed, “love your neighbor as yourself.”

Faith's Receiving

You may have thought about the difference between giving and grabbing. Easy to think about. They are exact opposites. It’s not hard to think about which category of person with whom you would rather share a table. You may have heard a discussion on the difference between love and lust. Actions may look alike, but the motivations are very different. Perhaps even more subtle is the difference between receiving and reaching. It is the difference between trusting the promise of God while waiting for the fulfillment of that promise, in God’s timing, in God’s way; or, on the other hand, the very human tendency to reach out and try to make happen what you want to have happen. The difference is illustrated in the Old Testament of the Bible, in the lives of Abraham and his nephew, Lot.

The promise of God had come to Abraham, repeatedly, over a period of time, in which God said, “I will …, I will …, I will … Many times, the “I will …” is followed by the word “give.” Other times, the “I will …” is followed by “make you” into something that you presently are not. One of these things was a “great nation.” But Abraham wasn’t even a father. From the first promise, Abraham would wait 25 years until he received a son by his wife, Sarah. But receive a son, he did, named Isaac. He didn’t reach for him. He received him.

Lot was invited to choose a land to inherit away from Abraham. “If you go this way, I’ll go that way, or the other way around. Lot, you choose.” And so Lot lifted his eyes, and reached for what looked best. His eyes could see the natural prospects of the land, but his eyes were blind to the spiritual peril. And that’s so often what happens when we reach rather than receive. Only God knows what’s best. Our short-sighted vision is incapable of making the best decisions.

Oh, it’s not as though Abraham lived by faith flawlessly. There were times when he reached; when he wearied of ever receiving. He went and had a son, Ishmael, by Sarah’s handmaid, who was not the son of promise, and who brought much discord into the whole story. He twice placed his wife in danger in acts of self-preservation - not good for a future father. He laughed in his heart at the incongruity of God’s insistence that the promise would yet be fulfilled. But however imperfectly, Abraham believed. He waited. He received. He did not have to reach. Neither do you.

A Very Long Life

There are chapters in the Bible with lots of numbers. Genesis 5 is one of them; it’s the first of them. It records the years and generations of Adam’s life, a very long life.

Adam fathered his third son when he was 130 years old. He had already fathered two other sons, though the first, Cain, put the second, Abel, to death. Seth would be the son who would live on and “call upon the name of the Lord.” Adam went on to live another 800 years after Seth’s birth. He lived 930 years, a very long life. 

Seth was 105 years when he fathered Enosh. Adam would have been 235 years when he became grandfather to Seth’s son. Enosh in turn fathered Kenan when he was 90. Adam became a great-grandfather at the age of 325. Kenan fathered a son at 70. Adam became a great-great grandfather to Mahalalel at the age of 395. Mahalalel fathered Jared as a “young man” at age 65. Adam would have laid eyes on his great-great-great grandson, Jared, at the age of 460. Jared waited 162 years to have his son Enoch. Adam would have been 622 at his birth, 4-greats.

Enoch lived 65 years and fathered Methuselah, the man who lived longest in the Biblical record. Adam would have been 687 at his birth. 300 years later, God would take Enoch to heaven without a physical death. Adam would have preceded him by just 57 years.

Adam became a great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather at age 874 to Methuselah’s son, Lamech. Lamech waited 182 years to have his very famous son, Noah. Adam did not live long enough to meet Noah. But he lived long enough to see the world into which Noah was born, where "the wickedness of man was great on the earth, and that every intent of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually” (Genesis 6:5), the consequence of his own disobedience against God in the garden. He did not experience the flood, nor see Noah’s families deliverance through the flood in the ark. But he believed the promise of God, and lived a very long life.

Tomorrow I help conduct a funeral for a lady who lived 101 years, born in 1918, a very long life. She met several generations, and saw the world change. And she likewise believed the promise of God, that same God who formed Adam from the dust of the ground, and the God Adam worshipped on this earth for 930 years.

We Are More than Animals

I listened recently to an interview of an unsavory talk show host who has pushed beyond the limits of decency over the years, but who now has had a bit of a change, credited to therapy. He is not at all apologetic about his past transgressions, because, after all, we are all just animals. And, even after his therapeutic enlightenment, still seems to think it is all about him.

He does not accept the Biblical record of creation. I don’t know what he accepts. But man and woman created in the image of God is not part of his framework. Those of us who accept the Bible as giving the framework of reality freely admit that the God who created the heavens and the earth did so according to a certain order, and that both beasts and humans were created on Day 6, and that both are called “living souls” (translated here as “living creatures” (Gen 1:20,24,30; 2:7,19). And yet there are key differences. I’d like to start with the one that the person interviewed missed.

Animals behave in a certain way. They follow their instincts. They can be hardworking, fun-loving, social, and yes, sexual. There is a lot of variety, and we can find it fascinating. But as we study the different animals’ patterns, we find that they actually follow their patterns. Humans, not so much. Animals, unlike us, don’t emphasize one part of their existence to the point of neglecting the other. They don’t get addicted to one pursuit. Animals don’t drink or take drugs to deal with the stress. They don’t join a 12-step group to create a healthier dependency. They don’t do therapy. And they don’t think it is all about them. This man does not act like an animal. Sadly, however, he acts like less.

The soul of man was designed by God so that we could relate to God. Apart from God, we don’t just act like animals. We act like less. We become imbalanced wrecks; miserable messes. But in relation to God – a relationship freely given through faith in Jesus who loved us and died for us – in relation to God, we are so much more than animals. We pray and we forgive; we sing and we create; we worship and we serve. Animals may do a little of a couple of those things, but we are more than animals.

The statement that we are all just animals is a disservice to animals. But worse, it is a slam against God, who created us to be so much more, to reflect something of Him in this world that He Himself designed and made.

The Master Algorithm

“O LORD our God, other masters besides You have ruled us; But through You alone we confess Your name.” (Isaiah 26:13 NAS95)

I recently read The Master Algorithm by Pedro Domingos. He seems very smart about this stuff, and I confess that I didn’t understand many details about learning algorithms that are quickly developing. He details 5 different “tribes” of learning algorithms, and predicts that one day soon, combining the best aspects of each tribe, there will be a Master Algorithm, a mature learner, that will examine data far faster than humans, making far better decisions, and equipped then to learn and decide even more.

Perhaps the main point about this Master Algorithm is that it will know you better than you know yourself. We know ourselves as we would like to be, or as we would want other people to see us. But the Algorithm knows you by your actions, your movements, and your choices. It knows you, not by your good intentions, but by your actual practices. Now that’s a little bit scary.

Further, the Master Algorithm, as a continuous learner, sees what choices work for you, and what doesn’t. It has no trouble admitting mistakes and bad judgments, and corrects accordingly. We are not so good at that. We sometimes make the same mistakes over and over again. We could really use some help.

As I read this book, I realized that, as followers of Jesus, we already have something much better than a master algorithm. We are children of God. We would all agree, wouldn’t we, that our heavenly Father knows us better than we know ourselves? The author suggests that a real, human person in the future will actually consult his/her Master Algorithm about a key decision that he/she is making, realizing that the bot has more information and insight available. But haven’t Christians been doing that for centuries, consulting God about any number of decisions through the course of a day?

Our God makes no mistakes. But we do. And our God allows us to do so. God is not a continuous learner, because He knows all, but He expertly, wisely, and graciously guides our steps so that we learn, so that we come to know Him better, so that we become more like Him.

Our God works for our good, always. There is nothing sinister. And He is One, not just one competing bot vying against a host of other “competitor” bots.  “Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master, .. So our eyes look to the LORD our God,” Psalm 123:2

That Old, Nursery Speaker

The speaker in our church nursery needs to be replaced. It has needed to be replaced for several years. In fact, I think maybe it needed to be replaced when I first came to the church.

It reminds me of our church sign. When Jane and I came to Milford Baptist, there were two old, weathered posts with two, parallel planks attached with nail-on letters with the church’s name. Ugly. We talked for a long time about replacing that sign. A long time. Finally, it got replaced. And it has even been updated since.

But not the nursery speaker. When turned up so a person can hear, it is accompanied by so much static, it’s not worth listening to. So people just turn it off. Now I know what you’re thinking. I’m the pastor, and I’m supposing that there are ladies in the nursery who actually want to listen to the message during their nursery duty. One might suspect that even if that old speaker was clear as a bell, they still might turn it off. It’s not so much the static. They might just like the quiet, however much there might be in a church nursery.

But I wonder if our lives might be a little like that old nursery speaker. We have a message to tell; a story to share, of what we have learned of God and about His grace that He has brought to bear in our lives. But as sincere as we may be in wanting to get the message out, if it is accompanied by static or distortion, to most people, you and your story will not be worth listening to.

The distortions that I’m thinking of are the inconsistencies and disconnects in our lives that contradict what we say. I’m thinking of things like self-righteousness - a “look-at-me” attitude that repels people and doesn’t sit well with grace. Or judgmentalism, a sense of disapproval that gets communicated without saying a word. Or a messy, undisciplined life, where the turmoil of disorder in marriage, or kids, or home, or finances, or relationships sends a message that we are in desperate need of redemption, rather than having story of redemption to tell.

As witnesses, we are not perfect, and our message is not that we are perfect. We are sinners saved by grace. But it is a fact that the static of our lives can drown out the message of grace. The point is not that we should cease sharing our story. But we must be diligent in cooperating with the Spirit in bringing order to the distorted areas of our lives, both for our own sake, and for the sake of others.

“For if the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who shall prepare himself to the battle?” (1 Corinthians 14:8 KJV)

Good and Evil in Close Proximity

The author of Hebrews refers to mature believers “who because of practice have their senses trained to discern good and evil.” Little children may not know the difference between good and evil. Adults should. But it takes practice, and lack of the practice of discernment will allow one to slide back into immaturity and confusion. 

It would be much more simple if good and evil were not in such close proximity. It would be nice if they were always easily distinguished and had clear edges. But it is not so simple. Because someone can do something seemingly good, but the unintended consequences could be evil. Or, because someone can do something that is seemingly good, but have evil motives for doing the “good” that they do. 

Worse yet, we find in ourselves principles of both good and evil in close proximity, within our hearts or wills. Pauls says in Romans 7, that conflicted chapter: “For the good that I want, I do not do, but I practice the very evil that I do not want.” (Romans 7:19 NAS95) We have a level of “want” or “will” that desires to do good, but we end up not doing it. Why? It seems that it must be because there is another, deeper “want” or “will” that desires something darker. And so we can we how closely both good and evil lie in our hearts.

James, in his practical epistle expresses the same truth, yet framed differently: “With (our tongues) we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in the likeness of God; from the same mouth come both blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not to be this way.” (James 3:9–10 NAS95) Good and evil, in close proximity in our hearts, inhabits our mouths as well.

And so, we must hold fast our confession, and we must commit to application. To “hold fast our confession” means that we entrust our souls to our Savior, and ask that as He has justified, He will also sanctify, and re-create our hearts and minds and mouths to be the home of good and not evil. Also, we look with hopeful expectation for a future world in which there is only good, and all evil is eradicated. But by way of application, we must sharpen our “senses,” our moral antennae, so that we can sharply discern what some would regard as the foggy outlines of good and evil. Not legalistically. But theologically, for the glory of God, and the good, not evil, of our souls.

Jesus Christ, the Center of History

I’m tired of hearing about being on the wrong side of history. It’s an arrogant phrase, in that it assumes that finally our generation has “progressed” so far and become so enlightened; and further, that everything that came before is ignorant and stupid. Well guess what? Following that pattern, in a few years, another page will turn, and you will be on the wrong side of history, and they will consider you to be the ignorant and stupid one. And they might be right.

In addition to the whole “wrong side of history” thing being arrogant, it is also simply wrong. Fundamental and foundational truths are just that, regardless of the mood of the current age. And God, in His grace, has revealed to us in Word and in Person something about what that fundamental, foundation truth is: Jesus Christ stands at the Center of History.

Think of a book with many pages, yes, even the pages of history. Jesus as the Center means that He is not merely a page of history that has come and gone. Rather, Jesus is the Binding of the Book, the Center of History. And by faith in Jesus, we can see how history fits together, both in the many manifestations of human foolishness, and also, graciously, in the manifestations of divine wisdom. But we must notice and accept that Jesus is directly, personally related to and integral to each and every page of the book, of all history, always and everywhere. 

Without this Binding Truth, this Central Character, our view of life and times is like a loose-leaf notebook let loose in the wind, pages flying every which way, with us grabbing hold of one and proclaiming that we are now on “the right side of history.” Arrogant, ignorant, and foolish.

By faith in Jesus, acknowledging and accepting who He is and what He has done - we come into personal relationship with the very Center of History, as Savior, Lord, and King. He is what holds everything together. So when a person who does not have such faith in Jesus diagnoses you or me as being on the wrong side of history, they are doing so as one who is reading a page from the book with no binding. They have lost sight of the Story, and hold merely a page that they think is the beginning and the end of everything. And they are sorely mistaken, though they speak so confidently. But by faith, we know Him who is “the Author and Perfecter of faith.”

Remain On at Ephesus

This is the time of year that I get a bit more reflective about the number of years serving in one place. Jane and I moved to Milford in 1986, and my first Sunday of ministry as pastor of Milford Baptist was an Easter Sunday. That year, Easter fell on March 30, so by now, I’ve completed 33 years in one place, and by Easter this year, will be a few weeks into the 34th.

When Paul, the elder, wrote to Timothy, the younger, he gave instruction to stay in one place. “As I urged you upon my departure for Macedonia, remain on at Ephesus so that you may instruct certain men not to teach strange doctrines,” (1 Timothy 1:3). 

We don’t know how long “remain on” meant for Timothy. It certainly didn’t mean that he would never leave. But since Paul was, when not imprisoned, generally on the move, it was remarkable advice to Timothy.

We are not sure if Timothy welcomed the instruction. I can imagine some push-back responses. 

• “But Paul, this isn’t my home, and my family is so far away.”

• “But Paul, I don’t really like big-city life.” 

• “But Paul, I don’t like the culture, or the climate.” 

• “But Paul, I get tired of dealing with the same old people and their same old problems.”

• “But Paul, Ephesus is so wicked; so worldly.” 

• “But Paul, I want to be on the cutting edge, like you, not forgotten in the backwaters of a settled, pastoral ministry.”

But there are, on the other hand, blessings in a “remain on at Ephesus” ministry. You get to know people’s lives in depth. And yes, change is most often slow, but you have a much better chance of seeing change over a score of years rather than a score of months. You get to know people’s families, and extended family connections. Often times, extended family doesn’t get it. “Why does my Dad trust this pastor more than he trusts me?” And yes, there is the problem of one’s own predictability. The church family knows the pastor’s tendencies. But guess what? I also know yours. Some of it is double-edged. I carry the weight of peoples’ secrets that will remain unshared forever. And funerals of people I love are killers. To quote the song, “every time we say good-bye, I die a little.” But then, when one remains on at Milford, there are a lot less good-bye’s

Christ Jesus, who is our hope

Paul begins his letter to Timothy with this little phrase, perhaps innocuous, but certainly not insignificant: “Christ Jesus, who is our hope.” For followers of Jesus, He is our hope. Which means, there are certain things that must not be our hope.

1. My health is not my hope

There is a saying, “If you have your health, you have everything.” In light of our Biblical phrase, “Christ Jesus, who is our hope,” this popular saying is patently untrue. First of all, if you have your health, and not Christ, then in the end, you will have nothing. Secondly, if you don’t have your health, but you have Christ, you do indeed have everything.

2. My spouse is not my hope

A good marriage is a wonderful thing. And I love my wife. But she is not my hope. And actuarily, it would be best if I were not hers, since she will likely live longer, without me, but not without Christ. She will still have her hope.

3. My house is not my hope

Oh, goodness, no. I am thankful for our house, but some days I feel that I’m a prisoner to it. If it’s not maintenance to stay the decay, it’s improvements to keep up with the times. No, my house is not my hope.

4. My retirement is not my hope

I think “retirement” may be a construction of sociologists, similar to “adolescence,” in which at least a few of both classes are excused for living irresponsibly. If retirement is your hope, you will find it short-lived and short-sighted. We must always ask, “And what then?” “Retirement years” are just as much preparation for the enjoyment of our true hope as are any earlier years of our lives.

5. My pleasures are not my hope

We are a pleasure-seeking, pleasure-indulging society. We believe that our happiness is linked to our pleasures. But pleasures, like spouses, are not designed to be the substance of our hope. Know this, that your hope is linked to your worship, and we ought not worship our spouses, or our pleasures, but rather, Christ Jesus, who is our hope.

Moment ≠ Momentum

Epiphanies happen. An epiphany is “an appearance from above.” It can be a life-changing moment. It happened to Saul (later named Paul) on the Damascus road. In that epiphany, he met Jesus, and his life was never the same again. Those kind of moments happen, rarely. 

The problem is when we keep waiting for the next epiphany, what we really need is a strategy and structure that will build incremental insight and strength that will last for the long haul. What I am describing here refers to that second word in the title: momentum. There are people, many of them, that seek to live by epiphanies. They have a dash of inspiration, or a new idea, and they live off the burn of that event, until they don’t. And then they are hard-pressed to wait for the next special moment. But God has not promised a consistent series of “moments” in our lives, even while we admit that they indeed do happen, rarely.

Thankfully, a strategy or structure that will build momentum is not as tough as it sounds. One such strategy and structure would be a regular practice of “daily devotions” or “quiet time with God.” We set aside that time on a regular basis, not that we expect a “mountain-top experience” every morning, but perhaps just some small insight, or a thought for the day. Or, when I was growing up, I could count on my Mom and Dad sitting down and having a cup of coffee together (instant coffee, no less) when Dad got home from work. I doubt that either of them thought of this as a strategy or structure, but it was the kind of practice that helped build a solid marriage relationship, hearing each other’s thoughts, pulling in the same direction (or at least it seemed so to me from a kid’s point of view). I imagine some of those conversations were pretty mundane. And so are a lot of things we do in discipleship. But they build strength over time.

Perhaps a person might have an epiphany-like turning point when they begin a life project, like losing weight. They are inspired, and they work hard, and, they experience success. But do you know what is even harder? Keeping the weight off. Why? Because you can do the first part based on a moment’s decision, and carry that decision through for a period of time. But the momentum required to follow through after the self-congratulatory Facebook post requires strength. The strength of a disciple.

Expectations ≠ Experience

We have great expectations. That is, we have plans that we think will work out, well, according to plan. We believe that there is a high expectation that we will meet our objectives satisfactorily, and on time. But, it rarely works out that way. 

There is a theorem in the field of statistics that says there is a high probability of low probability events. A low-probability event is one that rarely happens. Perhaps it has never happened to you before - things like a flat tire or car accident; a sudden illness or injury; a cancellation or firing, and on and on. There is a high probability of one of these events, not because they are common, but because there are so many possibilities. And any one of these low probability events can become a major distraction or interruption that delays your quest to accomplish what you have planned.

Of course, this applies to your own plans When it comes to God’s plans for you and me, they are high probability events. And those low probability distractions - those are part of God’s plan as well. They are designed, not to help you meet all of your own expectations, but to provide you with a God-designed experience that teaches you what He knows that you need to know, about trust, and patience, and humility, and on and on.

Romans 5:3-4 gives a description of the Christian life that mentions tribulations. 

3 And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; 4 and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope;

Now, when you and I plan out our great expectations, we rarely include tribulations. But God does. And then the text gives a small string of benefits that come from the living out of tribulation. The first one is “patience” or “endurance.” When we face opposition or obstacle in the pursuit of our “great expectation,” we sometimes just scratch the whole plan. But God’s design is that we persist through tribulation in His plan so that we learn patience. Further, the string includes “proven character,” or, in the King James version, “experience.” We are changed by the experience. We become “experienced.” Our character becomes more like Christ, and we develop greater resilience and stability in order to continue on in our Christlikeness and service for Christ.

The next word in the string is “hope.” God’s promise for our future is the greatest expectation imaginable. It is God’s plan that you travel through experience in order to get to expectation, both defined and designed by God, who is good.

Putting Off ≠ Patience

Do you have the spiritual gift of procrastination? I have an unpleasant truth for you. It’s not a spiritual gift. If you’ve got it, if you do it, it came from somewhere else other than the Holy Spirit. I’ll leave you to consider what are the other options.

And yet, I think we, all of us, every reader, have been guilty of “putting off” at one time or another. I wonder if we have ever tried to “sanctify” it by calling it, not procrastination, but patience.

The author from whom I have re-worked some thoughts through this series on “this≠that” puts it this way.

1) we chronically underestimate the time it takes to get anything done; 

2) we believe that time is open-ended and sufficiently spacious for us to (meet) all of our ( ) goals eventually 

(M.Goldsmith, Triggers, p.19).

If #1 is true, then we must argue for prioritizing those tasks and pursuits that are most important. Some pit that which is “urgent” against that which is “important.” I think here a better contrast would be for putting first that which is serious over that which is silly. Again, I think you can figure out, if you are serious, which is which.

If #2 is true, then we need to read our Bibles. Our lives are but a vapor (James 4:14 Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away). Our flesh is like a fading flower (1Peter 1:24 For, all flesh is like grass, and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls off). We do not have all the time in the world. (Psa. 31:15 My times are in Your hand). My guess is that most people living today will not find that they have more than enough time, but rather, not nearly enough, to do all of the things that they want. Further, my sober guess is that the list of things that won’t get done will not only include many silly things that they had wanted to do, but many serious things as well, serious things that they may never have even thought about.

What should we consider as serious? Things eternal. One’s right relationship with God. The state and security of one’s soul. Oh, we can put these things off. But we dare not call it patience.

Inspiration ≠ Industry

Imagine with me the pioneer boy whose task is to split firewood for the cabin fire, the family’s only source of heat, and the fire on which food is cooked. He’s had this job for a while, and, well, it hasn’t gone so well lately. His father has a stern talk with him about doing better, and, wanting to please his father, he is inspired to do better. And so, out he goes, and in the power of inspiration, splits enough wood for two weeks.

But two weeks pass, faster than one would think, and, wouldn’t you know it, the dash of inspiration that spurred him to action before is strangely missing. But, he drags himself to the wood pile, splits enough for tomorrow, without much enthusiasm or enjoyment.

It’s winter, and one never knows when the next snow will come. Splitting wood only for tomorrow does not take into account blizzards. And, blizzards happen. And when it does, the family is holed up in the cabin, with a dwindling supply of wood, and no one able to find the wood pile in the blowing snow, much less split wood. The cabin gets cold. The food is uncooked. And so Dad takes his son’s dining chair, breaks it to pieces, and uses it for fire and stove wood. His son will have to stand at dinner from now until Spring, when a new chair can be made. Why? Because inspiration ≠ industry.

If you and I rely on inspiration, we will fulfill acts of responsibility and service when we feel like it. And sometimes, it will be exciting and enjoyable. But there will be plenty of other times where inspiration will be depleted. And if we have not practiced the skill of industry, we will be searching for something or someone to blame for our tasks not getting done.

Believe it or not, there is enjoyment to be found in doing work, even when we are not inspired. Get up, get going, and put your back into it. What we find is that, often, the enjoyment is found, not at the beginning, but in the middle, or at the end. But when we rely, not on inspiration, but on industry, we do not have to lay in bed and diagnose how we feel. We get up regardless, because we have a job to do, to which we have committed, and we serve, because it’s what we do, because, it’s what our Lord did for us. 

So here is a final thought question: was Jesus always inspired to greet another crowd; face a long line of needy people; experience resistance and rejection? Or, did he simply commit to do the will of the Father?

Exceptionalism ≠ Excellence

Marshall Goldsmith, in his book “Triggers,” refers to a study that shows an almost complete eradication of central line infections in intensive care units when doctors follow a simple 5-point checklist (p.17). The problem is, doctors resist using this checklist. Why? Because it is so simple. Perhaps they believe they are above such things as a simple checklist. They think they are exceptional. 

The author goes on to describe three human tendencies: 1) our contempt for simplicity; 2) our contempt for instruction and follow-up; and, 3) our faith that we can succeed all by ourselves.

We regard ourselves to be pretty smart people. Simplicity is below us. We can figure things out for ourselves (for instance, recall how often you have avoided using the instructions. We persist in an attitude that we learned when we were age 2: “Mother, I’d rather do it myself.”

Let’s apply this to the Christian life. Do we make the pursuit of following Jesus more complex that it really is? There is a hymn that goes “Trust and obey, for there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.” Take Him at His Word; do what He says. That’s pretty simple. I think we add complexity, with studies and seminars, simply to allow us to avoid submitting to the simple.

We live in a world that celebrates the new. And what’s new is pushed at us in a variety of ways. We feel dumb and irrelevant if we don’t keep up. But the old patterns of devotion and diligence are proven, though often forgotten. Consider this: those two “d’s”, devotion and diligence, actually restrain us from flirting with the newest fads. Devotion demands focus and close attention. Diligence involves a faithful practice of established patterns. If we were to follow these, we would have to admit that spirituality is not so much discovered, as practiced. 

Scripture consistently refers to followers of Jesus as little children. We want our biological children to grow to adulthood and independence. Not so “children of the heavenly Father.” We will forever live in dependence upon Him, though we often resist it the present. 

Maybe it really is true that those most “happy in Jesus” are those who simply “trust and obey.”

Comparison ≠ Competency

“I may not be perfect, but at least I’m not as bad as .”

Comparison. It’s how we determine whether or not we are a “good” Christian. Let’s start there. What is a “good” Christian?

It’s really an interesting question. I’ve got my list of what makes a good Christian, and you’ve got yours. But what does God say? First of all, He says, “There is none good; no, not one.” The very first step in becoming a Christian is confessing that we are not good. We are indeed sinners, and we stand in need of a Savior.

So having become believers in Christ, are we then in a position to boast of our own goodness, in comparison with others who are less good, and in comparison to other brothers or sisters in Christ, no less? Hardly. No, the confession of the believer is not in his or her own goodness, but rather in the goodness of Christ. He is our boast. This life of grace through faith is “not of works, lest any man should boast.” 

This goodness of Christ is at least two-fold. First, He is, was, and always will be, perfectly good. He never sinned. He is never at cross-purposes with the Father. He is always perfectly consistent with the Divine essence. He defines goodness.

But He also expresses goodness. That is, we don’t find goodness only in Him, but also from Him, and in relation to Him. He is good to us, in all of His offices and functions; as Prophet (Word), Priest (Sacrifice), and King.

So if we return to our title, “Comparison ≠ Competency;” and our question: “What is a ‘good’ Christian?”, we might say this: A good Christian is one who points away from himself, rejecting comparisons with others, and points instead to Christ, who is the only worthy object of our admiration and adoration. It is then that we are functioning appropriately, as sinners saved by grace. Even then, it is not so much a function of our goodness, but rather the grateful redeemed showing deference to the holy Redeemer. We pray that we may begin to do this instinctively, rather than having to be corrected time and again.

The Pharisee in the temple prayed, “Thank you that I’m not like that guy over there.” But let us pray, “Lord, help me to be refashioned more like You.”

Gratification ≠ Grace

As followers of Jesus, we stand in grace. We walk in grace. We rest in grace. We live by grace, and, at our last day on this earth, we will lie down in grace. In terms of our redemption, it is all of grace. Any hint of merit or self-sufficiency is incompatible with that which we have received freely, by grace.

But we must admit that, in our daily lives, we often do resort to merit and self-sufficiency. I cannot attribute that earlier outburst of anger to grace. That indulgence in selfishness was not from grace. There is another word for it, and it might sound something like it. It is the word, “gratification.”

Latin has a word “gratis.” I suppose that both “grace” and “gratification” come from that root. But my point is that, though “grace” and “gratification” may come from the same Latin root, they do not come from the same source. “Grace,” as we have been speaking of it, comes from God. God is the Great Giver of Grace; the never-ceasing source of grace; the only repository of pure and holy grace. “Gratification,” on the other hand, comes from me; from you. We offer it to ourselves.

“Today is a special day.” “This is a special situation.” “I deserve this.” For just this moment, “I can excuse myself” for stepping off the path of grace, and riding the roller-coaster of gratification. It offers a momentary escape, or amusement, or thrill, that I deserve. 

Do you catch the anomaly? We ever opt for something other than grace because we deserve it, - but, by definition, grace is not deserved, it is freely given. And when we excuse ourselves, we step aside from grace, because it is God alone who is able, by grace, to excuse us, and not we ourselves.

The old song begins, “Grace, grace; God’s grace…” Grace is from God. We cannot attribute gratification to God, but to ourselves, which is why we call it self-gratification, a very different thing, and a very serious departure.

Three Sardonic Stories

Jesus often spoke in parables, presenting truths in story form so that we might be more likely to listen and think. These can be blunt truths, almost sardonic. Notice these three.

A farmer’s land was productive.Why? Perhaps it had a little to do with farming practices and human industry. Certainly it had much to do with the Creator’s goodness who sends rain on both the wicked and the righteous. The profits and purchases from his produce fill many barns. And then, after another banner year, he tears down his big barns to build even bigger. He is condemned by Jesus, for in focusing on his material possessions, he has forgotten to care for his soul.

Who would do that? How could anyone be so stupid as to get so involved with temporal possessions that he would neglect his eternal soul? Well, that question illustrates the meaning of “sardonic.”

A rich man loads his table daily with sumptuous foods.What is left is tossed out the back gate to be consumed by dogs and beggars. One beggar, Lazarus, dies. Well, so does the rich man. From the heat of Sheol, the rich man directs Abraham to send the beggar to cool his tongue with a drink of water. Abraham says, “It doesn’t work that way.”

What kind of rich man thinks he can run the world, even from the pit of hell? Who, from the realm of death, has enough dollars to direct Abraham, rich in faith, dwelling now in the land of the forever living? Or what man would think that he can lord it over the poor, even when eternally enslaved in the throes of divine punishment? Who would do that? Sardonic.

Two men went up to the temple to pray.One, with fanfare and fatuity, prays, “I, I, I, I.” “Thank you that I’m better than others.” Who would do that? Who would dare enter God’s presence with such pride and presumption? The other man, in the shadows, prays quietly with head bowed, “God be merciful to me, the sinner.” One of these two went home justified.

I’ll ask you, sardonically, can you guess which one?

Empty-Handed

When David thirsted for water from the well near the gate in Bethlehem (2 Samuel 23), three of his mighty men went on a quest, despite the fact that the town had been overrun by their enemies, the Philistines. With joy and pride they must have returned, victorious, with water for their Captain and King.

And so, in Jesus’ parable (Luke 20:9-18), when the owner of the vineyard sends a servant, and then another, and then another, to bring back a taste of the fruit of his possession - with sorrow and shame they returned, since they came back empty-handed, if indeed they came back at all. One had been beaten; another humiliated, another thrown out and wounded.

As creatures of the Creator; and, further, as servants of the Redeemer, we want to place in the hands of our Captain and King, our Savior and Friend, that which rightfully belongs to him. But like the servants in the parable, can we not at times be stymied in our attempts to return favor to the Lord?

As the story goes, not only do the servants appear to strike out, empty-handed, but so does the son, sent by the father to accomplish what the servants could not. But they kill the son, and then the parable ends. The parable ends, but story does not, for we know that the son in the story is the Son of God, and that He rises from the dead, and is able to bring in hand to the Father both persons and property: all that is His.

And again, as the story unfolds, those who end up empty-handed are those renters of the vineyard who had sought to usurp ownership and honor. They are cast out - empty-handed.

Those in this world’s with “full hands” seem to be the bold and beautiful; the great and greedy. The contents of their hands continue to fill their own coffers, unaware that, at judgment, all will be returned to its rightful place. So, humble servants, despite setbacks, do not lose heart. Though the Son has been killed, He is alive, and His hands are full.