The kids went back to school today. What a bitter-sweet occasion that is! Bitter for them, that Summer is over; sweet for their parents--for the same reason!
What the first day of school reminded me is that we all need to be willing, and actively seeking, to learn continually. Summer is a great time to have fun, relax, take vacations, and allow the insidious creeping of intellectual and spiritual laziness worm its way into our lives. The first day of school is a great day to take stock and see if we have allowed that to happen.
What have you done this Summer to further your knowledge of God? Have you read any good books, attended a conference, participated in a Bible Study or Small Group, or read the Bible on a regular basis? What have you done to grow closer to God, to serve Him, to be served by Him? Having trouble answering that question? You're not alone.
It is hard to continually grow. It takes time, it takes resources, it takes effort. And let's face it--most of us do not have an excess of any of those. It is so easy to just slide by, enjoy the Summer (or Fall, Winter, Spring), and coast along. I know enough to get by, right? I mean, I've invested my time, learned what I need to know; I'm doing good enough, right?
Wrong.
We can always be better. We can be better at home, at work, with our families, our friends, our God. The access we have to incredible tools available to help us grow leaves us no excuse to become stagnant. Whether we are talking about our Christian faith, our parenting, our marriages, other relationships, our work--whatever--we all have potential to be better. One avenue to improve ourselves is through learning. Back in the Dark Ages when I was young, there was a short Saturday morning cartoon with the catch-phrase Knowledge is Power. Remember that? Well, it's true.
Knowledge is power. That is one idea which both the world and the Bible agree upon. One difference is that the world knows this, and many times tries to keep knowledge from us (or feed us false knowledge), while God knows that His knowledge builds us up, and offers it freely to us. Much like salvation through His Son Jesus Christ, God's knowledge and wisdom is a free gift to us, delivered to us through His Word. Why would we turn that down?
So, have you taken the Summer off? Have you neglected God's Word and your ongoing growth in Him? If so, today is the first day of school. What better day to get back in the swing of things.
Monday, August 18, 2014
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Buried With Him, Raised With Him
Does sticking your head under some water while someone says some flowery words over you really do anything? According to the Bible, and our Christian faith, yes.
The baptism of a believer in Christ is a mysterious, awesome, and today, courageous act. Baptism is mysterious because the Bible says that in some way, when we allow ourselves to be immersed in water for the purpose of being baptized, we are being symbolically buried with Christ and united with Him in new life. If that is not mysterious, I don't know what is. Don't get me wrong--I absolutely believe it--but I believe it through faith, not through complete understanding. Baptism is awesome for the same reason; through such a simple act of obedience, we have closer communion with Christ. What a low price of admission for the greatest privilege ever granted. And today, such an act is courageous because, as I and many others have said before, almost anything goes in this world except for adherence to Christian values.
I was honored to witness the baptism of two men today. Yes, two grown men. They have families, they have lives, they are long past childhood, when many people think of being baptized. But they came to the point in their lives that they were ready to make that outward confession of their inner decisions to follow Christ. As always, it was a powerful experience for me.
Watching someone else get baptized always reminds me of my experience. I was baptized as an infant, but later in life decided that I wanted to experience full immersion as an expression of my changed life. When I came out of that water, I felt something, something powerful and magnificent. I cannot go so far as to say that everything changed at that moment, but I guess in some ways everything did. I have never forgotten that feeling, and that memory has influenced many of my actions and words. I do believe that I became closer to Christ on that day, and what could be more life changing?
When we make that decision to be baptized, we are buried with Christ in order that we may be raised again to life through faith in Him. Baptism is not salvation, but rather an action someone who is already saved takes in order be in obedience with God's will. Doing so brings us closer to our Savior. What greater honor could there be?
The baptism of a believer in Christ is a mysterious, awesome, and today, courageous act. Baptism is mysterious because the Bible says that in some way, when we allow ourselves to be immersed in water for the purpose of being baptized, we are being symbolically buried with Christ and united with Him in new life. If that is not mysterious, I don't know what is. Don't get me wrong--I absolutely believe it--but I believe it through faith, not through complete understanding. Baptism is awesome for the same reason; through such a simple act of obedience, we have closer communion with Christ. What a low price of admission for the greatest privilege ever granted. And today, such an act is courageous because, as I and many others have said before, almost anything goes in this world except for adherence to Christian values.
I was honored to witness the baptism of two men today. Yes, two grown men. They have families, they have lives, they are long past childhood, when many people think of being baptized. But they came to the point in their lives that they were ready to make that outward confession of their inner decisions to follow Christ. As always, it was a powerful experience for me.
Watching someone else get baptized always reminds me of my experience. I was baptized as an infant, but later in life decided that I wanted to experience full immersion as an expression of my changed life. When I came out of that water, I felt something, something powerful and magnificent. I cannot go so far as to say that everything changed at that moment, but I guess in some ways everything did. I have never forgotten that feeling, and that memory has influenced many of my actions and words. I do believe that I became closer to Christ on that day, and what could be more life changing?
When we make that decision to be baptized, we are buried with Christ in order that we may be raised again to life through faith in Him. Baptism is not salvation, but rather an action someone who is already saved takes in order be in obedience with God's will. Doing so brings us closer to our Savior. What greater honor could there be?
Monday, August 4, 2014
Brave Ones Against the World
They were going against the grain of the world, and they knew it. Their decision, the way they had chosen to live their lives, was antithetical to a changing world view and popular culture. They were throw backs, anachronistic outliers who were sure to be scorned, ridiculed, accused, and persecuted. But they didn't care. They were brave.
Their act of rebellion against the ways of the world was pre-planned, intentional, and publicly announced. They did not hide their intentions, nor did they commit their unpardonable atrocity against political correctness away from the prying eyes of the disapproving. They were courageous in their defiance of the current of popular culture, their outrageous act of conservative fortitude. Once committed, there was no going back; just the way they, and God, intended.
Who were these perpetrators, these pariahs, these . . . these . . . shameless misfits of society? A young man and woman, committed to a cause and belief. Their act of defiance? They got married. To each other.
Gasp!!
This is not a parody. This is not sarcasm. This is reality. Our reality.
The grain of the world, the way in which things are moving, offers little support for traditional marriage. Doubt me? Who is standing up for heterosexual marriage in popular culture? Think about it. Now, who is standing up for the other? Are laws and rules being changed in favor of traditional marriage, or the "newly defined" marriages of late?
See what I mean.
I fear the day will come that a marriage between a man and a woman may draw as much negative attention as homosexual marriage now draws positive attention. May God spare us that day!
Now, back to our young hero and heroine (not heroin!!). They are moral survivors in an immoral world. They are light in a world of darkness. They are righteous in a world of unrighteousness. They are enemies of the world, though they hold no enemity towards the world. They are targets of persecution, in our world and the one unseen.
Pray for them!
Raise them up to God in praise and adoration, in celebration of their walk with Him. Carry them in your hearts and remember them, for their walk will not be easy. Lift them up, fortify them with prayer against the attacks of the enemy, for those attacks will assuredly come, and likely have already begun. Even if you know them not by name, pray for them by the identity of their decision. God knows who they are, and they stand out to Him. Pray for this newly married couple--God knows their names.
May God bless you Brave Ones! Revel in your love for God and each other. Hold fast to the promises you made before us and your Creator. We, and He, are here for you; you are not alone. You are survivors. Hold fast to your faith, and God's blessings be upon you!
Their act of rebellion against the ways of the world was pre-planned, intentional, and publicly announced. They did not hide their intentions, nor did they commit their unpardonable atrocity against political correctness away from the prying eyes of the disapproving. They were courageous in their defiance of the current of popular culture, their outrageous act of conservative fortitude. Once committed, there was no going back; just the way they, and God, intended.
Who were these perpetrators, these pariahs, these . . . these . . . shameless misfits of society? A young man and woman, committed to a cause and belief. Their act of defiance? They got married. To each other.
Gasp!!
This is not a parody. This is not sarcasm. This is reality. Our reality.
The grain of the world, the way in which things are moving, offers little support for traditional marriage. Doubt me? Who is standing up for heterosexual marriage in popular culture? Think about it. Now, who is standing up for the other? Are laws and rules being changed in favor of traditional marriage, or the "newly defined" marriages of late?
See what I mean.
I fear the day will come that a marriage between a man and a woman may draw as much negative attention as homosexual marriage now draws positive attention. May God spare us that day!
Now, back to our young hero and heroine (not heroin!!). They are moral survivors in an immoral world. They are light in a world of darkness. They are righteous in a world of unrighteousness. They are enemies of the world, though they hold no enemity towards the world. They are targets of persecution, in our world and the one unseen.
Pray for them!
Raise them up to God in praise and adoration, in celebration of their walk with Him. Carry them in your hearts and remember them, for their walk will not be easy. Lift them up, fortify them with prayer against the attacks of the enemy, for those attacks will assuredly come, and likely have already begun. Even if you know them not by name, pray for them by the identity of their decision. God knows who they are, and they stand out to Him. Pray for this newly married couple--God knows their names.
May God bless you Brave Ones! Revel in your love for God and each other. Hold fast to the promises you made before us and your Creator. We, and He, are here for you; you are not alone. You are survivors. Hold fast to your faith, and God's blessings be upon you!
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Beaten, bloodied, battered and dying . . .
Beaten, bloodied, battered and dying, he held strong. No matter what abuse they suffered him, no matter the insults they hurled at him, he did not waver. Through the pain, the humiliation, the torment, he held strong.
His face had been struck by fist and rod time and again. His nose was not merely broken, but mangled. Shards of twisted cartilage conspired with congealed blood to seal off his ability to breathe. Both sides of his head had been brutally assaulted by whips and belts, and his left ear, nearly separated from the rest of his face, hung near his jaw. His eyes, bloody slits nearly hidden by his grotesquely swollen face, were filled not with anger, but something else, something out of place in this scene of death.
His beard, twisted and matted with blood, spit, and bile framed the bottom of his seemingly inhuman face. A twisted mass of thorns, harshly puncturing skin and flesh, crowned his head. Stretched to each side, his arms strained, the tendons on their undersides taut to the point of tearing as they supported his weight. Through his wrists, still dripping blood, two large iron spikes were driven through skin, bone, and tendon into a rough hewn olive wood beam. His feet, crossed one over the other, were similarly pierced, securing him to the cross.
His chest heaved slightly, but stopped short of a normal breath. The weight of his body prevented his lungs from filling with air, and instead they filled with blood and water. Had he been able, he would have coughed the foul fluid out, but he was not. He had neither strength, nor desire, nor life to do so. Covered with dust and dirt, mixed with the filth cast at him by others, his body was encased in a crust of defilement.
He could have ended the pain, escaped the suffering, fled the humiliation at any time; but he did not. He could have called upon a legion of angels to avenge his wrongful arrest, but the command remained unspoken. His power was to do so, but his promise, his duty, was to not. His call was to bear the weight of punishment for a poor sinner not yet born, one who would too easily accept the price he paid.
He is Redeemer. He was man. He is God.
He is Christ, my Savior.
Do you know him?
His face had been struck by fist and rod time and again. His nose was not merely broken, but mangled. Shards of twisted cartilage conspired with congealed blood to seal off his ability to breathe. Both sides of his head had been brutally assaulted by whips and belts, and his left ear, nearly separated from the rest of his face, hung near his jaw. His eyes, bloody slits nearly hidden by his grotesquely swollen face, were filled not with anger, but something else, something out of place in this scene of death.
His beard, twisted and matted with blood, spit, and bile framed the bottom of his seemingly inhuman face. A twisted mass of thorns, harshly puncturing skin and flesh, crowned his head. Stretched to each side, his arms strained, the tendons on their undersides taut to the point of tearing as they supported his weight. Through his wrists, still dripping blood, two large iron spikes were driven through skin, bone, and tendon into a rough hewn olive wood beam. His feet, crossed one over the other, were similarly pierced, securing him to the cross.
His chest heaved slightly, but stopped short of a normal breath. The weight of his body prevented his lungs from filling with air, and instead they filled with blood and water. Had he been able, he would have coughed the foul fluid out, but he was not. He had neither strength, nor desire, nor life to do so. Covered with dust and dirt, mixed with the filth cast at him by others, his body was encased in a crust of defilement.
He could have ended the pain, escaped the suffering, fled the humiliation at any time; but he did not. He could have called upon a legion of angels to avenge his wrongful arrest, but the command remained unspoken. His power was to do so, but his promise, his duty, was to not. His call was to bear the weight of punishment for a poor sinner not yet born, one who would too easily accept the price he paid.
He is Redeemer. He was man. He is God.
He is Christ, my Savior.
Do you know him?
Sunday, July 20, 2014
In Debt Up To My Eyeballs
I'm in debt up to my eyeballs. But, thankfully, not in the way we usually think of such things. Let me explain.
I have a friend who is so much better at so many things than I am. Fishing, hunting, sports, and, most pertinently of late, building projects. Because he is so much better at these things than I am, I am always asking him for help and advice. And--weirdly enough--he even invites me to come with him to do fun stuff, and volunteers to help me on whatever I'm doing. It's a strange relationship known as friendship where a tally of who-owes-who-what is not kept.
And man, am I the beneficiary of that!
Were I to have to pay for all the consultations, expert labor, hunting and fishing guide services, and use of equipment (for work and pleasure), I would be thousands of dollars in debt. But he doesn't keep track, and won't let me either. And, if I had done any of these things without his presence, I probably would have been able to "make it work," but nothing would have been done as well, as quickly, or with as much enjoyment. Because he is a perfectionist, even more so when doing work for someone other than himself, every thing is done just right. It's amazing, really, the difference that makes. Something that I could have made work, while painful to look at, he makes work better and makes it aesthetically pleasing. Our most recent project was a privacy fence, mentioned in my last post. Thanks to him, it looks awesome.
But all of this leaves me feeling in debt. He doesn't keep track, but I can't help it. He gives me his absolute best, free of charge, and I have this feeling of obligation that I do not know how to repay. He tells me, "It's nothing," and he means it, but this feeling of indebtedness remains. It is said there are no debts between friends, and my friend personifies that; it's just hard for me to accept.
I don't like to owe anyone anything. I'd rather do things for myself, and not be obligated to anyone else. But I've had to accept that there are some things that I simply cannot do as well myself. That's when I call my friend.
This friendship reminds me a lot of my relationship with Jesus. There are so many things I cannot do myself that I call on Jesus for, and He is always there. And just like my friend, Jesus doesn't keep track of how many times I call on Him, or how much I owe. He responds, He gives, and He shrugs off the question of cost. "I'm glad to help," He says. The same thing my friend says. "It's nothing. Glad to help. Call if you need me. Don't try to do that alone."
Pretty amazing. I'm so very fortunate to have the friends I do, and to count Jesus Christ as one of them. I am forever indebted, but none of them are keeping track.
Now if only I could learn to do the same.
I have a friend who is so much better at so many things than I am. Fishing, hunting, sports, and, most pertinently of late, building projects. Because he is so much better at these things than I am, I am always asking him for help and advice. And--weirdly enough--he even invites me to come with him to do fun stuff, and volunteers to help me on whatever I'm doing. It's a strange relationship known as friendship where a tally of who-owes-who-what is not kept.
And man, am I the beneficiary of that!
Were I to have to pay for all the consultations, expert labor, hunting and fishing guide services, and use of equipment (for work and pleasure), I would be thousands of dollars in debt. But he doesn't keep track, and won't let me either. And, if I had done any of these things without his presence, I probably would have been able to "make it work," but nothing would have been done as well, as quickly, or with as much enjoyment. Because he is a perfectionist, even more so when doing work for someone other than himself, every thing is done just right. It's amazing, really, the difference that makes. Something that I could have made work, while painful to look at, he makes work better and makes it aesthetically pleasing. Our most recent project was a privacy fence, mentioned in my last post. Thanks to him, it looks awesome.
But all of this leaves me feeling in debt. He doesn't keep track, but I can't help it. He gives me his absolute best, free of charge, and I have this feeling of obligation that I do not know how to repay. He tells me, "It's nothing," and he means it, but this feeling of indebtedness remains. It is said there are no debts between friends, and my friend personifies that; it's just hard for me to accept.
I don't like to owe anyone anything. I'd rather do things for myself, and not be obligated to anyone else. But I've had to accept that there are some things that I simply cannot do as well myself. That's when I call my friend.
This friendship reminds me a lot of my relationship with Jesus. There are so many things I cannot do myself that I call on Jesus for, and He is always there. And just like my friend, Jesus doesn't keep track of how many times I call on Him, or how much I owe. He responds, He gives, and He shrugs off the question of cost. "I'm glad to help," He says. The same thing my friend says. "It's nothing. Glad to help. Call if you need me. Don't try to do that alone."
Pretty amazing. I'm so very fortunate to have the friends I do, and to count Jesus Christ as one of them. I am forever indebted, but none of them are keeping track.
Now if only I could learn to do the same.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Fences, Neighbors, and Boundaries
Good fences make good neighbors, so the saying goes. That old saying has more than a grain of truth. Everyone likes to have boundaries that are recognized and respected. But sometimes our boundaries are just a little too strict, and that leads to problems. As another saying goes, The fence that makes good neighbors needs a gate to make good friends.
I have been both victim and perpetrator when it comes to abusing boundaries, whether they be fences, beliefs, rules, or personal preferences. I have to admit I have walked over others' properly placed boundaries, just as others have stepped beyond mine. But sometimes our boundaries are just ridiculous. In fact, some of them would be funny if they weren't so infuriating and, at times, costly.
We all know of some boundaries that are just plain silly; did you know in many places it is illegal to park your car in such a way that you block your own driveway? And we all know people who take perfectly good boundaries and abuse them for their own purposes. Both are frustrating. But, they are also unavoidable. Since we are throwing out old sayings, we might as well include, The world would be great, if it weren't for all the people.
So how are we to respond when someone abuses or ignores our boundaries, or sets up boundaries that are abusive to us?
The terms grace and mercy come to mind. Grace is giving someone something (good) they do not deserve; God is gracious in that He offers us salvation through Jesus Christ. Mercy is not giving someone something they do deserve, as in a punishment; God is merciful in that He does not submit us to the judgment we deserve. Similar, but distinctly different.
What does that have to do with the price of tea in China?
We should respond to others as God responds to us when we cross His boundaries. While it is true that God corrects and rebukes, even disciplines those He loves, He is also merciful and full of grace. He gives us grace that we do not deserve, and mercifully holds back His judgment.
That's a hard model to follow.
What did I do in response to the event which triggered this writing? I respected their boundaries, and am putting up a bigger fence of my own. For, as Carl Sandburg said, Love your neighbor as yourself, but don't take down the fence.
I have been both victim and perpetrator when it comes to abusing boundaries, whether they be fences, beliefs, rules, or personal preferences. I have to admit I have walked over others' properly placed boundaries, just as others have stepped beyond mine. But sometimes our boundaries are just ridiculous. In fact, some of them would be funny if they weren't so infuriating and, at times, costly.
We all know of some boundaries that are just plain silly; did you know in many places it is illegal to park your car in such a way that you block your own driveway? And we all know people who take perfectly good boundaries and abuse them for their own purposes. Both are frustrating. But, they are also unavoidable. Since we are throwing out old sayings, we might as well include, The world would be great, if it weren't for all the people.
So how are we to respond when someone abuses or ignores our boundaries, or sets up boundaries that are abusive to us?
The terms grace and mercy come to mind. Grace is giving someone something (good) they do not deserve; God is gracious in that He offers us salvation through Jesus Christ. Mercy is not giving someone something they do deserve, as in a punishment; God is merciful in that He does not submit us to the judgment we deserve. Similar, but distinctly different.
What does that have to do with the price of tea in China?
We should respond to others as God responds to us when we cross His boundaries. While it is true that God corrects and rebukes, even disciplines those He loves, He is also merciful and full of grace. He gives us grace that we do not deserve, and mercifully holds back His judgment.
That's a hard model to follow.
What did I do in response to the event which triggered this writing? I respected their boundaries, and am putting up a bigger fence of my own. For, as Carl Sandburg said, Love your neighbor as yourself, but don't take down the fence.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Has Anyone Found My . . .
Has anyone found something I lost? I am not sure what it is, but I know it is missing. I cannot tell you exactly what it looks like, or when or where I had it last, but I can tell you it is no longer in my possession.
This is not a riddle, exactly. More of a conundrum. Something is gone, but I don't know what, nor when I lost it. Whatever it is, it was important, and I would dearly love to have it back. When I discovered it was missing, which was a couple of months ago--maybe longer--I began to understand why I was feeling the way I was. Something is missing from my life. I need it back.
The something I have lost may be ambition, or drive, or desire. It may be joy, or hope, or anticipation. Shoot, it may even be youth, vim, or vigor, but I don't think so. I'm not that old yet!
But it looks like one of those, or maybe all of those wrapped up into one something. I don't know. But I am lacking this thing, and there is a hole where it is supposed to be. That emptiness is sucking the life from my life, and that is wholly disheartening--pun intended.
I have nothing to complain about. My marriage is good, my kids are good, my job is a good job. I have good health, God is providing for us well, and I have all the support I could ask for. Good friends, good family, good church. God is good.
The problem is, I am having trouble seeing that. Or maybe appreciating it would be a better way to say it. God provides and I reply Ho-hum; thanks God. No excitement, no true thanksgiving. Not a sense of entitlement, I don't believe, but a lack of graciousness, perhaps. I sometimes wonder if God has been too good, and, like a spoiled child, I keep wanting more. Not a pleasant thought.
So whatever is missing, I need it returned. If you have suffered a similar loss, and been able to recover that something, could you tell me where you found it?
I'm missing mine.
This is not a riddle, exactly. More of a conundrum. Something is gone, but I don't know what, nor when I lost it. Whatever it is, it was important, and I would dearly love to have it back. When I discovered it was missing, which was a couple of months ago--maybe longer--I began to understand why I was feeling the way I was. Something is missing from my life. I need it back.
The something I have lost may be ambition, or drive, or desire. It may be joy, or hope, or anticipation. Shoot, it may even be youth, vim, or vigor, but I don't think so. I'm not that old yet!
But it looks like one of those, or maybe all of those wrapped up into one something. I don't know. But I am lacking this thing, and there is a hole where it is supposed to be. That emptiness is sucking the life from my life, and that is wholly disheartening--pun intended.
I have nothing to complain about. My marriage is good, my kids are good, my job is a good job. I have good health, God is providing for us well, and I have all the support I could ask for. Good friends, good family, good church. God is good.
The problem is, I am having trouble seeing that. Or maybe appreciating it would be a better way to say it. God provides and I reply Ho-hum; thanks God. No excitement, no true thanksgiving. Not a sense of entitlement, I don't believe, but a lack of graciousness, perhaps. I sometimes wonder if God has been too good, and, like a spoiled child, I keep wanting more. Not a pleasant thought.
So whatever is missing, I need it returned. If you have suffered a similar loss, and been able to recover that something, could you tell me where you found it?
I'm missing mine.
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