A Burnt Offering: What it means to Burn

 Today I was reading through some old posts, and I came across one from a few years ago that caused me to stop and to think. I wrote this note as I was preparing to teach on the book of Hebrews at Liberty, and the thoughts below strike me as especially helpful during these days. As we consider all the good things and blessings we have received, let us also think of ways we can show our gratitude by giving back. Let us strive to be like Jesus and to serve humbly those around us. What do we need to put on the altar today to let God consume? Where do I need the fire of God in my life? I hope this repeat blesses you!

As I sit here in my comfortable home reading the book of Hebrews in the New Testament, I am listening to Caedmon's Call (the first album). I am struck by the honesty and character of the lyrics. The interesting mixture of the admonitions of Hebrews with the alternative/folk feel of Caedmon's Call has put me in quite the introspective mood. Before I go any further, then, I want to quote for you the song "Coming Home," written by Aaron Tate and copyrighted by Cumbee Road Music in 1994. Here ya go!

You say you want a living sacrifice
Well here I am a burnt offering
Crawling off the altar
And back into the fire

And with my smoke-filled lungs
I cry out for freedom
While locking and chaining myself
To my rotting desires

And I hate the stench
But I swallow the key
And with it stuck in my throat
Can you hear me
Can you hear me

(Chorus)
I'm coming home. I'm coming home.
I'm coming home. I'm coming home.
But I'm still a long way off

I am shell shocked and I have walked
Through the trenches full of tears
With the mortars of memory
Exploding in my burning ears

You've stripped the trees of Lebanon
And now you're stripping me
Of the bark of false morality
The bite of selfish greed
Lord, can you hear me

(Chorus)
I'm coming home. I'm coming home.
I'm coming home. I'm coming home.
But I'm still a long way off

Will you run to me
Will you come to me
Will you meet me
Will you greet me
Will you drag me home
Cause I'm still a long way off

(Chorus)
I'm coming home. I'm coming home.
I'm coming home. I'm coming home.
But I'm still a long way off

I guess the reason that this song struck me today is the imagery of fire. Fire plays a big role in the letter to the Hebrews.

God is depicted as a burning fire.

There is a bit of discussion about the altar and sacrifices aflame.

Even Christ is depicted as a type of burnt offering offered on our behalf outside of the city--the same place where the author of Hebrews wants us to join Christ so that we can endure the abuse that he suffered.

Why? Because our God is a consuming fire.

What does fire consume? It consumes anything that is not like it. God will also consume those things in us that do not correspond to his character. That is why we are admonished to "Strive for peace with all people, and for the holiness without which no one will see God."

The song above reminds me of these things. We are on an altar whether we like it or not. We are either on the altar of God (allowing our non-God aspects to be burnt away and changed into his likeness), or we are on the altar of our own selfishness (burning away with our own deceit and sinful wishes). Like Aaron Tate points out, we crawl off the altar of God into the fire itself. We cry out for freedom while chaining ourselves to our own rotting and despicable desires.

We are on fire. We are burning.

What are we burning and why are we burning?

Many of us burn for all the wrong reasons--we are aflame with our own passions and desires, pursuing things that not only will not satisfy, but that will scar us forever if we continue to make ourselves a sacrifice to stuff. We look for stuff to fill the hole in the seat of our beings, we strive to come to wholeness through means that will not make us whole--we try to make ourselves something we are not, we try to obtain possessions that we do not need, we spend and are spent pursuing more stuff that not only clog our homes but clog our spiritual and physical veins and keep us from living our lives as God intended.

We can also burn for the right reasons--we can give ourselves over to a life of sacrifice or selfless living that puts the needs of others before our own desires and wishes. We may be aflame with a love that desires the best of God's blessings for our neighbors. We burn in God's presence so that we may lose anything that is not of God and gain Christ as "all that is really important." It is not an easy place to be, being consumed until only God is left. Nonetheless, such a place is necessary if we are to live a life abundant.

Let us come to God's consuming fire to be purified, to receive the delicious grace of God in Christ, to find all our rotting desires removed and transformed. If not, we are merely burning on our own waste.

Hebrews 10:31, 39
"It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. . . . But we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who have faith and keep their souls."

Thanks for reading!

Musings about Light and Darkness and the Importance of Pressing On

Sometimes I find myself thinking: "I failed, I blew it, I just never get it right . . ." sometimes it seems like I can't get it right even if I try. It is a recurring and almost living nightmare. Yes, it hurts to let others down, and nobody wants to feel like a failure. Here's some truth I'm trying to learn: The shadow proves the sunshine. The shadow is evidence of light shining, and that is true for each of us. Life doesn't always go the way we hope, and sometimes we get the distinct impression it is all our fault. I don't have magic words to fix the problem, but I am aware that there is a Light. We need to move from darkness to Light, but sometimes it is hard. Know this, you are not alone here, and the shadow being cast points to the existence of that Light. Head towards the Light, let him be your guide and help. Take it in your stride . . . further up and further in.

Or maybe we think: "Sometimes I feel invincible, but sometimes I feel invisible." Take this as a word of encouragement. You are known and noticed. I know people don't say it often enough, and I know it isn't always obvious. Nonetheless, we see you. You feel invisible, but your presence often encourages the rest of us. We see how you handle hard times, we see how you care for others, and we see your struggle complete with victories and sometimes defeat. Nonetheless, we see you. We see you get up again, and we derive hope. "If that person can do it, so can I" we think in our sometimes overstimulated and worn out minds. Your willingness to get up, to continue, to "fight the good fight" causes courage and hope to rise up in many of us. And we are grateful. You are not invisible, but you are a hero to many of us.

As we press on to the Light, may we find encouragement in the fact that Jesus is the pioneer of our faith, he is the one paving our way forward. Yes, times may be hard and darkness may seem to win, but the Truth will win in the end. Please remember this--obedience to Jesus is success. Your obedience even in the hard times is a blessing to others. Thank you, and keep moving forward. Head to the Light, Jesus is there and you'll find your rest with him one day. Mourning last for the night, but joy comes in the morning. Let's keep moving forward to joy and rest. 

Thanks for reading! 

God in Gethsemane: Where is God in Traumatic Times?

Can we worship the same God and have different views of political or other responses to traumatic situations in society? I hope the answer is "Yes," to be honest. Does that mean that the person who will not join in protesting some issue is less Christian, or that the person who will not join in a certain event worships a "smaller god"? I feel the need to quote J. B. Phillips: "Your God is too small." As Paul reminds us in Romans, God is the God of the Jews and the Gentiles too. He can be God of liberals and conservatives, Republicans and Democrats, protesters and singers, men and women, etc.

We want God to fit the narrow confines of our personal preferences for him . . .  we want him to sit in the corner until we need him. But that is not the God of the Bible: He hears the oppressed cry out and sends an amazing deliverance that ruins Egypt; he sees a woman struggling with life and relationships and sits by a well to talk theology with her; he sees an educated man curious about God's ways and astounds him with ideas he may not have thought before; he meets a shepherd in a bush that burns but isn't destroyed; he meets a persecutor/oppressor on the road with a brilliant light and vision; he comes to scared people at dinner and speaks peace to them; or he naps on a boat assailed by a storm and when awakened cares for the needs of the alarmed sailors.

He is the God who suffers . . . he is not so aloof as to fail to understand our suffering. No matter how dark our Gethsemane, the Light of the world is there. He suffered outside the city, alone, forgotten, with a sense of utter abandonment . . . and he knows. He knows we are weary, he knows we are "fed up," he knows we are lower than we have ever been. . . and he cares. Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning. May the God of peace soon crush Satan beneath our feet . . . 

Thanks for reading! 

Where is Light in Dark Times? He is There . . .

 I get it, sometimes the weight of it all seems a bit overbearing. . . sometimes you feel invisible . . . and other times you just wish you could disappear. Depression and trauma can be a bit like that, a sense that things aren't quite right accompanied by a sincere desire to make it all just "go away." 

You smile because you know others may expect that . . . you say "fine" when asked "How are you?" simply because you don't want to "burden" someone with your problems. Like Elijah, you find a nice place to hide and to spend time perhaps licking or binding your wounds. 

Yes, it is hard. No one denies that who has ever been there . . . but remember the end of the Elijah story . . . God is there in that darkness, in that damp cave, in that down time, in that overbearing wish that it would all just be "okay" (whatever "okay" means!). Yes, the God who suffers is there. Even (perhaps "especially") there in that dark place . . .

No matter how dark your Gethsemane, the Light of the world is there too. Jesus suffered outside the city, alone, forgotten, with a sense of utter abandonment . . . and he knows. He knows you are weary, he knows you are "fed up," he knows you are lower than you think you've ever been. . . and he cares. So do I. One step at a time, weary pilgrim, and you'll be home before you know it. Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning. I get it, but more importantly, God gets it too. May the God of peace soon crush Satan beneath our feet . . .  

Thank you for reading! 

Podcast: Christian Reflections on the Coronavirus Quarantine

Recenlty I had the honor of participating in a panel discussion on the topic "Christian Reflections on the Coronavirus Quarantine." The video is a little over one hour, but you are welcome to watch it if you'd like. Please feel free to leave a comment as well. Thank you!

I hope this discussion blesses or encourages you!

Christian Reflections on the Coronavirus Quarantine

Thanks for reading!

Annual Easter Post: What Did We Expect?

A few years ago I wrote the note below as I contemplated the days leading up to Easter Sunday. As I read the note earlier today, I thought it might be worth posting again. I hope it is a blessing to you!

The week before Easter is commonly called "Holy Week" by Christians. During this week we celebrate (is that the right word?) the last week of Jesus' life on earth. People sometimes make pilgrimages to Israel and retrace Jesus' final steps, they may pause at the "rock of agony" and cry where Jesus cried out to God in Gethsemane, they may go to the pit where Jesus was interrogated, they could pause where Jesus supposedly stumbled under the load of his cross, they could visit and contemplate Golgotha, they may visit the empty tomb, and they will most likely weep and cry and mourn.

Rightfully so . . . this was THE WEEK for which Jesus lived his entire human life, and it was a rough one for him. On Sunday before his crucifixion he entered Jerusalem with cheers ringing in his ears. The (usually fickle) populace embraced him for all the great miracles he performed, and they hailed his coming as though a conquering warrior had entered the city. Like paparazzi following a Hollywood star, they trailed behind this carpenter from Nazareth and looked for ways to become part of his entourage or to at least get a "piece of the action" as Jesus came to town.

Some of these same folks will probably yell "Crucify him!" in just a few days, by the way.

When Jesus offered them something tangible to grab, they wanted to be a team player, they wanted the fishes and loaves, the healings, the wonders, the mighty signs.

How soon their tune would change . . . how quickly they would turn on the one who was innocent of any sin except the failure to live up to THEIR expectations.

How like them we are today . . .

When things are going our way, we look to heaven and sing God's praises. We celebrate and sing and run to join the band as God rides triumphantly over all our "enemies." But as soon as Jesus fails to live up to OUR expectations, what do we do?

I know the spiritual answer--"though he slay me yet I will praise him."

Do we really? Will we? Will I?

I'm struck with how Jesus routinely challenged the popular expectations of the crowds who showed up hoping for another demonstration of heavenly power and flash. In John 12, just after the people have celebrated his "triumphal entry," Jesus tells them that the way to jump on his bandwagon is for his followers to hate their lives in this world. Just think how that must have sounded to the celebrants rejoicing in the coming of their conquering hero!

"You want to be a part of my movement, a part of my thing?" Jesus asks, "Then you will have to regard your life in this world as a dead man would. You have to become the least, the slave, the dead one, in order to get in on my movement."

Come and die.

What an invitation!

Of course, Jesus knew that in just six days he would literally fulfill that invitation. The innocent would die for the unquestionably guilty . . . and he would die horribly.

I can just imagine how this conversation must have put a damper on the celebration in Jerusalem. Jesus took a party and turned it into a wake. The next thing we know he is engaged in theological discussions with the people and with the Jewish leaders. He created a controversy that caused folks to take sides. All he had to do was accept the adulation and promise to "win the war that must be won," but Jesus decided to go against expectations again. He decided to allow God to get the glory through humility and death.

Hasn't this happened to us? Just when we think we have God's agenda all spelled out like it ought to be, He throws us a curve ball that reminds us we aren't in charge! We have a hard time "boxing Jesus" into a neat package.

What's the point then? The point is that we should reverse the procedure. Instead of putting expectations on God, we should look for HIS expectations for us. What has He required of us? What does He want? How should we respond to His voice?

The week of Easter we celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus. In the process maybe we should participate in a funeral of our own. Maybe we should let die our selfish expectations about how God "ought" to act towards us. Bury them, and let God resurrect them in His image.

As we contemplate the price of our salvation, let us willingly become slaves to the one who has paid such a price to purchase our freedom. Like Jesus, let our prayer be "Father glorify your name." Remember, if a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it will yield much fruit. It is, however, pretty useless in a bag with other seeds. Let's allow God to plant us where he wants so that our service can produce fruit for his glory. Let's follow our crucified Lord by living cruciform lives.

What would the world look like if we did?

I'd really like to find out!

Thanks for reading!

The Long Winding Road to Emmaus: Retold for Contemporary Pilgrims

“O Lord my God, when the storm is loud, and the night is dark, and the soul is sad, and the heart oppressed; then, as a weary traveler, may I look to you; and beholding the light of your love, may it bear me on, until I learn to sing your song in the night. Amen.” From Little Book of Prayers by George Dawson.

Job 13:15a "Though He slay me, I will hope in Him." (NASU)

Luke 24:21 "But we were hoping that it was He who was going to redeem Israel. Indeed, besides all this, it is the third day since these things happened." (NASU)

Sometimes in the midst of the trials and burdens of life, we lose sight of our anchor. We feel tossed and thrown as on a wild and restless sea. Our emotions tell us that things will never be good, all will be despair and loss. Our hope seems shipwrecked, our desire to go on in life sinks into depression. We see nothing good, only evil all around us. Our enemies (both physical and spiritual) seem to have the upper hand, they seem to be winning the day. Things are just not working out the way we expected! The victory we felt sure would come has not yet manifested itself, and we feel ourselves sinking ever deeper into a pit in which we cannot get the proper traction to climb. The clock is ticking down, our hope is gone, our day is over, and Christ has not come.

Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus in Luke 24, we had hoped that Jesus would be the one who would rescue us. We had fervently prayed that maybe, just maybe, today would be the day when we would “live happily ever after” and find our dreams coming true. We shake our heads and go out for a walk. Maybe some fresh air and a quick walk will clear out the cob webs in our minds. Still, the topic of our recent failure hangs like a cloud over our heads, raining down doubt and fear.

We chat quietly together, commiserating a bit in our sorrow, in our recent loss. We try to remember all the "good reasons" we came to this time--like the first time we heard the story of Jesus, or the first time we met him, or even when we experienced firsthand some of his mighty works. Still, sorrow clings to our soul like a wet coat in a sudden thunderstorm. We can't get rid of the sense of sadness, it is drenched on us and sticks to our bodies. We wonder why we even brought the subject up and continue to make our journey in silence. Maybe time alone with our thoughts will help.

Suddenly, a stranger approaches. He seems rather ignorant of our experiences, and besides that he has a fairly sunny disposition. He is definitely someone we want to avoid at this moment. No pie in the sky false hope will satisfy us. We fear that he will say something like, “Cheer up! Keep a stiff upper lip! Things will work out in the end!” We try to avoid the stranger, yet he resolutely comes our direction. He seems determined to interrupt our brooding, our despair. He is on a mission, and we seem to be his primary targets. We try to ignore him, but then he speaks.

“So, what’s going on? Why the sad face?” he inquires. Out of pure human kindness we try to explain our pain in as brief a manner as possible. We do not want to burden strangers with our “little” concerns, after all. The stranger hears our story and stands tall. Looking at us he says boldly, “Foolish ones, slow of heart to believe what God has said!”

The force of his accusation causes us to stumble in our walk. How dare this stranger tell us our business? How dare he interject his thoughts into our moment of pain, our sorrow? Just who does he think he is to interrupt our musings with his “pollyanna” announcement? We look at him with disdain and think that he likely has nothing of real value to offer.

Then, he begins to speak to us again. Starting with the beginning of our story and bringing us pretty much up to date he tells us things we knew but somehow in our anguish had forgotten. As he speaks, our hearts get a bit lighter. We can literally feel a burning inside that slowly (painfully slowly) begins to purify our thoughts and hearts. His words seem to dry the wet sorrow drenching us. Like sunshine after a thunderstorm, we begin to feel a bit of relief. Spring may yet come! We even feel encouraged (a little at least) .

We invite the stranger to eat with us, and he offers to say grace. As he prays, we realize his true identity. He is Jesus, our Lord, the one who was beaten brutally, was painfully crucified, who died with the full weight of our sin upon his broken and bruised body. He has been there all along, listening to us, sympathizing (or is it empathizing?) with our pain and anguish. He has been waiting to comfort us with his presence. He loves us in this way, even when he seems silent.

We beg him to stay. Oh, the situations of our life haven’t changed dramatically. We still have problems, and those problems seem just as depressing and burdensome as before. The difference is that we have Jesus in the house, and the light of his love gives us courage to press on, he becomes an anchor for our souls. Why? Simply stated—“Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Through him and his love we may not have better situations or circumstances, but we can still be “more than conquerors through him who loved us” in the trials we share as his joint heirs. How? Talk to him. Let him talk. Trust his character. He is faithful even when we are faithless. We genuinely matter to him.

He longs to say to you "Keep pressing on, I have not forsaken you. I love you."

As we walk our soggy paths of life, we should pause and wait for the Lord. Let him catch up to us in our musings. Listen to his words (even the ones that gently rebuke). Get in his presence, let him pray for us  and with us. Let his words and actions encourage and empower. Remember, he walks with us whether we acknowledge him or not. Why not sit in his presence for a minute and acknowledge his concern for us?

Thanks for reading!

A Love Louder than Fear: 1 John 4:16-21

Hello all:

 Years ago I preached a series on 1 John entitled "Theology Matters." This lesson looks at 1 John 4:16b-21 and discusses the idea that Christians need to live in and live out the love of God, a love that is louder than fear. In an age where fear seems to be the main emotion exhibiting itself in our culture, I thought sharing the notes from this sermon may help some folks. In this sermon I describe a love that manifests itself in three aspects: it is confident, it is mature, and it is honest. As we grow in and learn to live out of this love, Christians will find themselves loving God and others in the way that Jesus did. In fact, they will find that their relationships may be less characterized by fear and more characterized by the presence and love of God. When we love others, we give a living example of the love Jesus showed in the cross. In this time of anxiety and fear, we certainly could use a lover louder than fear! I hope this sermon blesses you.

A Love Louder than Fear
1 John 4:16b-21
Theology Matters Series

Introduction
When I was a kid, I had a few fears:
1) I was afraid of the dark
2) I was afraid of death
3) I was even afraid of not being perfect enough

People all across this city and country and world are afraid.
They struggle with fear of acceptance among others:
1) Fear of strangers
2) Fear of being disease/death
3) Fear of being alone or being rejected

Many of you have probably experience similar fears lately. 

The singer Pink made a comment years ago: “Love is louder than fear.”
She was speaking of the fear that some in the homosexual community feel.
She was speaking out against the actions of bullies, but she could have been speaking of the fear many face today in light of our current societal issues too.

In our passage today, John offers a continuation of his message about God’s love for us.
He describes for us a love that will cast out fear, a love that will outgrow and work through fear and find itself in a place of peace.

John describes a love that is louder than fear, and that love exhibits three characteristics: 1) it is Mature, 2) it is confident, and 3) it is honest.

Love that is louder than fear is found only in Messiah Jesus. Read 1 John 4:16b-21.

1. This Love is Mature

1 John 4:16b-17a—John reminds his readers that God is love; abiding in that love is abiding in God; and this abiding is revealed in a process of growth.

“Abiding” means to take up residence, to camp, to dwell in—it means to take up habitat and to live there—it is a process and an ongoing action.

In 1 John 4:8, the statement that “God is love” is a reference to God’s character.

God’s character is revealed in God’s acts.
God loved us (and the world) by giving Jesus as our atoning sacrifice.
God’s love is expressed in what he gives.

The idea is that a Christ follower is changed by the love of God and begins to live a life defined by that love (cf. Gal. 2:20)—Love grows and matures.

If God’s love and God’s Spirit dwell in us, then how we live our lives should exhibit that divine presence.

God’s love changes things, and that is the love that John wants to see “perfected” in us.

The word “perfected” in verse 17 carries the idea of “mature” or “complete”.
John is not necessarily referring to the idea of “flawlessness”.
Certainly God’s love is flawless/perfect, but the love that God works in and through us progresses and grows.

John indicates here that love must grow in us.
As we abide in God and his love, his love works in and through us.
As we grow in our relationship with God, our ability to love should grow as well.

This kind of growth and maturity takes dedication (see Romans 12:1-2; 2 Peter 3:11, 17-18). Think of a musician or an athlete: Practice makes perfect—the more we do something, the more we grow in our ability to do it.

We must practice love if we hope to be mature in love. This means we must spend time with the objects of our love. We must spend time loving God, and we must spend time loving others. 

What does this look like? What does love for God and neighbor look like when we live it out practically? How can we show our love for God and others today?

Love that is louder than fear is mature—it takes time to grow.
It matures/grows in us as we practice it.
It matures/grows us as we live in it, and with maturity comes a confidence that empowers.  

2. This Love is Confident

1 John 4:17b-19—speaks of the confidence that we can have in our relationship with Messiah Jesus and the assurance that we are children of God (3:1) as we experience change in our hearts and lives through God abiding and living within us (4:16). (Thanks to Ray Bentley for this idea)

In this passage John introduces two new words—fear and punishment/torment.
Remember, these words are written to believers. John is trying to convey some message to those of us who are Christ followers.

The idea of “fear” and “torment” here speaks of an eschatological event—the day of judgment—but the words have specific meanings. Matthew 25:46 mentions this torment, punishment, or correction as the state of unbelievers eternally. The words used here are typically related to slaves and servants—these are people who live in fear of torment or punishment. Sons and daughters do not relate to their Father in that way—they have reverence or respect for their parents, and they experience discipline but not torment. John is saying that as children of God we have no reason to fear as slaves fear, rather because of God’s love we can have confidence.

“Confidence” here means “boldness” or “freedom of speech”.

When we live in fear, we are not mature in love and we lose confidence.

Many Christians live in fear of being known or of being exposed.
a. We fear being transparent or vulnerable because we think that no one can accept us as we “really” are.
b. Some folks live in fear because of something in their past that haunts them, or something in their present that upsets them, or something in their future by which they feel threatened (Warren Wiersbe).
c. When we live in that fear, we are not walking in God’s love—we are not maturing in love. God's love gives confidence, and that confidence bring honest transparency.

As we grow/mature in love, we should find fear losing ground.
Think of the mother of a sick child—she is not afraid of the sickness, her love simply drives her to one end—the care and cure of her child. She will hold that child and care for that child in spite of the danger of sickness. She loves, and so she seeks the cure and comfort of her beloved.

As we grow in God’s love, we quickly realize that this love is secure and safe.
If God loved us when we were his enemies (Romans 5:6-10), then how more will he love us now that we are his children?
God loves us as we are and accepts us (even in our weaknesses)—that is the source of our confidence.
Romans 8:36-39—Nothing separates us from God’s love.

As we are connected to the Light of Life, that Life drives out our fear.

The story of Dietrich Bonhoeffer from the movie on his life (Bruce Goettsche):

Bonhoeffer tries to pray for a fellow inmate who claims that he does not believe in God. Bonhoeffer encourages him to place his hands on the cell wall as he is doing, and then Bonhoeffer prays, ""Lord, it's dark in me; in you is day. I am alone, but you will stay. I am afraid; you never cease. I am at war; in you is peace." The man in the other cell slowly places his hands on the wall. Bonhoeffer's confidence flowed from God's light of love in his horrible situation, and that confidence produced a sense of peace in his fellow inmate. This is the love to which we are called! Does our love create confidence and peace in others? Does God's love in us create confidence even in the darkest situations? John thinks it should. 

Remember John 3:16-21

God loves us in ways that we cannot even imagine.
He loved us enough to send Jesus, his only Son, the only unique child of God, to die for us. He gave us the best he had for the worst in us!
He loves as he loves Jesus.
That love is the love he wants for and in us.

In his Gospel account (John 3:16-21), John reminds us that God loves even those who reject him—in these verses he reminds us that judgment comes by rejecting God’s Light/Love.

When we choose to hide our works, we are living in the darkness.
When we hide our deeds for fear of exposure, we are not walking in the light. When we bring our deeds to the light, Satan is disarmed.

When we bring our deeds to the light, we are learning to bask in God’s love, and that requires effort on our part. Even our fears will dissipate if we bring them into the brilliant light of God's love! He gave us his best, and that best will shine God's bright Light into our darkest fear or situation.

But this kind of love requires transparency and honesty.
"There is a beautiful transparency to honest disciples who never wear a false face and do not pretend to be anything but who they are." Brennan Manning
“Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable.” Mother Teresa

Love that is louder than fear is confident before God and others, and that confidence leads to an honest life of transparency.

Warren Wiersbe: “The perfecting of God’s love in our lives is usually a matter of several stages. When we were lost, we lived in fear and knew nothing of God’s love. After we trusted Christ, we found a perplexing mixture of both fear and love in our hearts. But as we grew in fellowship with the Father, gradually the fear vanished and our hearts were controlled by his love alone. . . . A growing confidence in the presence of God is one of the first evidences that our love for God is maturing.” Bible Exposition Commentary, Vol. 2, p. 522

3. This Love is Honest

1 John 4:20-21—Here John reminds his readers that God’s love for us is reflected through our love for others. As we grow in love, our confidence leads us to live God’s love towards others, but to do that requires us to be honest.

“If someone says”—John uses this phrase some seven times in his letter to warn his readers against the danger of pretending to be something that they are not.

Fear and pretense often go together, just remember Adam and Eve. No sooner had they sinned than they tried to hide themselves from God (and from each other by dressing in fig leaves). They refused to even take responsibility for their own acts.

A Christian who lacks confidence before God will lack confidence with God’s people. (W. Wiersbe)

When our hearts are confident before God, we do not need to pretend.

When we lack that confidence we tend to worry—”What will they think if they knew?”

God’s love produces the confidence to be honest and transparent. We do not need to pretend at spirituality. We know that God accepts us and his children should too. We can be ourselves, warts and all, because of God’s love.

When we pretend to be what we aren’t, we become liars.
Who is the father of lies? Satan.

Remember Ananias and Sapphira (Acts 5)

Spiritual honesty can bring peace and power to the one who practices it. Because he lives in open honesty with the Father, he can live honestly with other people.

But this transparency and honesty comes at a risk, doesn’t it?

We risk exposure, we risk being vulnerable, we risk rejection by those who don’t “get us”. . .

But truth and love go together—you really can’t have one without the other.

If we are going to be the people of God, then we must love others (John and Jesus both say so). And loving others means both accepting them and being honest with them. We must tell the truth in love (Ephesians 4:14-16).

As Christians, we cannot grow up or mature in Christ if we do not love each other. And we cannot truly love each other if we do not speak honestly and live honestly with each other.

Many of us avoid love because we are afraid.
Look at the example of Christ--he loved others and was rejected, mistreated, falsely accused, and even killed for it--Yet Jesus loved anyway.

Our goal is to be like Christ in this world (1 John 4:17), so we must love each other as he loved.

Love that is louder than fear is honest.

Conclusion

As “children of God” we are being transformed into his image (the image of Messiah), becoming more like him in our thoughts, actions, and love for other people, especially other believers. Even the hard times of our lives are working in us a more excellent weight of glory to reveal the character and image of Messiah (see 2 Corinthians 4).

Love sums up Jesus' teaching. The standard of love to which we are called is literally not of this world. The love that comes from God is sacrificial and manifests itself in action on behalf of others. It meets the needs of others in a variety of ways. As Christians genuinely exhibit this level of love, they in some ways incarnate the very character of God and reveal him to the world.

This sacrificial love requires us to be honest before God and others, and it requires us to find ways to get rid of fear. It also requires us sometimes to do things not because we want to do them, but because it will result in blessing for others.

We must sacrifice our desire to be respected or to be exalted and be willing to humble ourselves to serve. We have to be willing to put the needs of others before our own needs/desires.

This humility will also result in transparency and honesty.

How do we do this?

Some ideas for this week:

1. Be honest about our fears—be honest to ourselves and to God. If possible, be honest and accountable with another Christian. What is hindering us from growing in confidence in God’s love? What will we do to be rid of it? What are our fears? List them and then bring them to the Light of God's Love. Consider fear a spiritual problem—develop a walk with God with an eye toward growing in confidence with what he has accomplished. Pray and spend time with him and let him show us how to work through our fear.

2. Memorize verses that deal with fear and that deal with love: Psalm 23, Isaiah 43:5, John 3, 1 John 4. Take time this week to commit some verses to memory that deal with our areas of need. Spend 10 minutes a day hiding God’s Word in our hearts.

3. Find ways to practice love so that love may grow in us. Make some time to show sacrificial love this week—remember that sometimes the people who cause the most fear in us are also afraid. Love them. Show forgiveness to those who have wronged us. Love those who hate us. Encourage someone who is discouraged. Listen with love when a brother or sister shares honestly and transparently. Accept them and pray with and for them. Obedience to God is success, and we are called by God to love our neighbors. What can we do this week to show love to others?

Love that is louder than fear is only found in Messiah Jesus and should be found in his followers. Will we risk it?

Thanks for reading!

A Communion Meditation for Epiphany: Hope Among Unrealized Expectations

This Monday, January 6, will mark Epiphany on the Church calendar. Epiphany usually means something like “a moment of sudden insight or understanding,” but in the Christian calendar it represents the day that Messiah was manifest to the Gentiles when the wise men came to visit. So, January 6 is Epiphany, the last of the 12 days of Christmas, the day when the wise men from the east came and found Jesus. As of that day we will have officially ended the Christmas season and are starting the build up to Resurrection Sunday. As we started Advent, we spoke of hope—the hope revealed in the first coming of Christ and the hope in his imminent and sudden return at the end of the age. We are at the “in between” time of that hope. Jesus has indeed come, and his coming is not for the Jews only, the Messiah is born for all nations. Here are a couple of passages for Epiphany as part of our communion meditation.

Isaiah 60:1-5 (HCSB) “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD shines over you. For look, darkness covers the earth, and total darkness the peoples; but the LORD will shine over you, and His glory will appear over you. Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your radiance. Raise your eyes and look around: they all gather and come to you; your sons will come from far away, and your daughters will be carried on the hip. Then you will see and be radiant, and your heart will tremble and rejoice, because the riches of the sea will become yours, and the wealth of the nations will come to you.”

Matthew 2:1-11 (HCSB) “After Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of King Herod, wise men from the east arrived unexpectedly in Jerusalem, saying, ‘Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we saw His star in the east and have come to worship Him.’ . . . ‘In Bethlehem of Judea,’ they told him, ‘because this is what was written by the prophet: And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the leaders of Judah: because out of you will come a leader who will shepherd My people Israel.’ . . .  After hearing the king, they went on their way. And there it was--the star they had seen in the east! It led them until it came and stopped above the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were overjoyed beyond measure. Entering the house, they saw the child with Mary His mother, and falling to their knees, they worshiped Him. Then they opened their treasures and presented Him with gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And being warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their own country by another route.”

The passage of Isaiah contains some extravagant promises. The prophet speaks of “brightness,” “glory,” “radiance,” and overflowing heart, and the “wealth of nations.” And who first heard these glowing words? Exiled Jews who had just returned home to a Jerusalem in ruins. Somehow, the words of the prophet didn’t quite match up with the realities on the ground. But that didn’t stop these believers from committing themselves to God’s work to see the glory that God had promised to them.

Similarly, how did the wise men recognize an earth-shaking event in the humble birth of Jesus to Joseph and Mary? Even the religious and political leaders of Israel missed the coming of Messiah. So how could these foreigners fall to their knees so readily, and offer such valuable treasures to this lowly child? Again, their expectations didn’t match up with what they found when they first laid eyes on the Messiah.

The wise men represent the “nations” mentioned in Isaiah, and as they come bringing gifts to Jesus they are the beginning of the fulfillment of the promises of Isaiah. They brought gifts to a promised king that they had never seen until that day. They also represent true worship by their humility (they kneel before this child, the king of the Jews) and later they obey God by not returning to Herod to tell of Jesus’ location. Like the exiles in Isaiah, their situation was not ideal, but they trusted in the God who promised.

Like the wise men and the returning exiles, we find ourselves in an interesting time, one that is not always ideal. Maybe our situations and circumstances are not what we expected. We came through the joy and celebration of the Christmas season, but for many of us the joy seems short lived. The “reality” of life around us seems to darken the sky once lit bright with hope and joy. We celebrated the birth of Jesus, the incarnation of God, but maybe after the new year we no longer feel like celebrating.

Yet, the New Year is a promise of new beginnings, and it is the promise of God’s continued watch care. We can trust him. The New Year is a time to look back and see God’s hand, and a time to look forward with expectation to his continued faithfulness and grace. It is a time to surrender to God and offer a gift of obedience. We start this new year with a recognition of our Messiah, the one who came for ALL people, the one who came as a Lamb to be “slain, and to purchase for God with his blood people from every tribe and tongue and people and nation.” We celebrated Messiah’s birth, and we celebrate his obedient death in the Lord’s Supper.

When we come to the communion table, we renew a covenant made long ago at a place called Golgotha. The elements here—the bread and the cup—symbolize the body and blood of Jesus. When we take these elements, we remember that Messiah Jesus gave his life for us. At the beginning of the new year, we can do nothing more appropriate than to come to this Table and let Communion be for us an act of consecration, an act of giving ourselves again to the Lord Jesus our Messiah.

On the night when he was betrayed, the Lord Jesus took bread. He blessed it and broke it. He said, “This is my body, which is broken for you.” This bread is his body, eat it as often as you eat it in remembrance of him. Jesus also said, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood.” Drink it as often as you drink it in remembrance of him. Paul reminds us to take time to consider our lives before we partake in this supper. It is time to prepare our hearts for Communion. Make sure you have nothing between you and God or between you and another human. Look at yourself, and then look to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. Consecrate yourself to God.

As the hymn says:

Take my life and let it be Consecrated, Lord to Thee;

Take my hands and let them move at the impulse of Thy love.

Take my feet and let them be, Swift and beautiful for Thee;

Take my voice and let me sing, always, only, for my King.

Take my silver and my gold, Not a mite would I withhold;

Take my moments and my days, Let them flow in ceaseless praise.

Take my will and make it Thine, it shall be no longer mine;

Take my heart, it is Thine own, It shall be Thy royal throne.

Let’s pray: Thank you, Father, for the way you have traveled with us so far, and for the journey that lies ahead. As we begin this new year, remind us of your faithfulness and grace. Remembering these things, we come to celebrate this supper, and we remember the last meal between Jesus and his disciples. His body was later broken for us as a way to remember the greatest gift ever given, his life for ours. We ask that you bless us to your service. Lord Jesus, you taught us how to serve. You taught us to be faithful. You have blessed us in so many ways. May we be reminded daily of the ultimate sacrifice given for us through the giving of your blood, and may we find the courage to offer our lives to you in obedience. We ask these things in the blessed name of Jesus. Amen.

Thanks for reading! 

Annual Christmas Post: The Mystery of Christmas (Advent 2019)

Hey y'all:

I started this blog several years ago, and every year I have posted a piece I wrote around Christmas 2003. It kind of sums up for me what is the "Mystery of Christmas" as I meditate on the Incarnation and its implications for humanity (and perhaps for God as well!). The very idea of God becoming "one of us among us" (Immanuel) still fascinates and overwhelms me. God, the creator of all things, humbled himself, became of no reputation, and entered his own creation so as to renew and to redeem and to rescue us (and, ultimately, to do these things for all of creation as well). God, the Creator of all things, became flesh so that he might accomplish the plan to make his grace and glory known in humans and in all of creation. The God who never knew death would die for us. The God who never knew sin would become sin for us. He would break the power of sin, condemn sin in his own flesh, and provide for all of us the rescue we need to become the people God always intended us to be.  What an amazing love! Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift! As you celebrate the advent of our King Jesus the Messiah, I hope you enjoy this rerun. Feel free to make comments if you'd like.

A little over 2000 years ago, a tiny child was born in some pretty bleak conditions. Oh, he wasn’t the only one born in less than optimal conditions. In fact, in some ways, he was one of the lucky ones. He and his mother actually survived childbirth and thrived. Still, this story is unique and amazing on several levels.

First, the life of this child would literally change the way time is reckoned in the world. His life and abilities would have such an impact on generations of others that a brand new movement would be created, one that would radically change the very face of the earth (sometimes for good, sometimes not so much). His name would become recognized among the names of the greatest of humans, yet he never forgot his own humble beginnings or lost a sense of who he was.

The second thing about this child is tied to the first in that this baby, this helpless lad full of spittle and mush, was born as the very Son of God. When Mary held his little head to her breast, he drank human milk. Yet, he was (and is) the God of the universe. Can you picture this simply ridiculous yet somehow poetic scene? God, who calls the stars by name, pressed to the human breast for sustenance. Humble yet awesome, is how some folks would no doubt recall this child.

A little over 2000 years ago, God proposed that the only remedy for the human condition of sin would be if he humbled himself, stepped out of eternity and into human flesh, and suckled at Mary’s breast in preparation for the greatest, most impressive conversion of all. God, in Mary’s arms, toddling around Joseph’s home, learning to talk, learning to walk, tasting food, and touching things with human hands! As the Psalmist says in Psalm 139, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for us, we cannot contain it!”

God knew that the only way to redeem us was if he did it himself. Haven’t you ever had that thought? You know, the one where you say, “If I want something done right, I’ll just have to do it myself?” Imagine God having that thought about bringing us to proper relationship with him. Imagine again that the only way he knew he could do that is if he came to earth as a baby. Think of it—-how vulnerable the almighty God was at that moment, how paradoxical that the God of all creation had to learn to walk! And why did he put himself in this situation? Out of his divine sense of justice and righteousness and mercy, out of his inexpressible love for humanity he acted in this manner.

God humbled himself.  In a sense, he took on our insanity so that we may be sane. He became flesh so that we might walk in his Spirit. He became sin that we might be righteous. He became poor so that we might be rich. He who had the reputation of Creator became a humble servant with no reputation. He became a toddling, dribbling, helpless babe so that we could become mature humans in the image of the almighty Son of God. What wondrous love! What humility and service! How then can anything he asks of us be too difficult?

Lord, during this Christmas season, remind us of your sacrifice and love so that we might be a light shining in darkness to others. Teach us to live a life of humble service like your Son did on our behalf so many years ago. As we celebrate the babe in the manger, may the glory he revealed in his life shine through us towards others that they may know God. May the grace of God and the peace of Christ rule in our families and our lives.

Thanks for reading!

Merry Christmas!  May you know the blessings of the God who humbled himself and served! 

Some thoughts on community and truth

We speak of truth and lovely things, but transparency and honesty can sometimes be messy. It is fine, though, God doesn't mind messy.

If Jesus is truth, then why are we so quick to lie to each other as Christians? Are we really that concerned with how we "look" to others?

Too often I compare myself to others whose situation is no better--without Christ, they are also nothing. Jesus is the Model to imitate.

Church should be community, and community is sometimes messy. Unity only comes when we humble ourselves and serve others.

Unity is not uniformity. My brother/sister may look quite different, but our unity is based on what Jesus has done and the example he set.

Come to grips then with this truth--you are not God, but you need God. The only way God fills your need is by Jesus, his Incarnate Word.

If you find a substitute to fill your void, you will always have "less-than-God." This idol will always fail. It cannot do anything less.

God became one of us to reach us. He served humbly, what more can he ask of us? To love one another calls for humble service. It is enough.

Thanks for reading!

Undone . . . Pulled Apart . . . A time for rest

The meditation below was written originally several years ago. The sentiment and the experience are still the same, but the circumstances have changed a bit.

You see, I am getting closer to celebrating my 60th birthday. I am firmly on the downward side of my quest to live for 100 years. The very thought that I have lived 6 decades has given me pause. For some of my readers 60 seems pretty old, perhaps for others it seems a bit young. All I know is that it has caused me to pause and to reflect on my life.

I am a words of affirmation kind of person, and as such I love to give encouragement to others (and to receive it too!). On the other hand, there are those times where I feel incredibly unnoticed and irrelevant and even melancholy in some ways. Today is one of those days. I noticed my frustration level was a bit higher than usual (not sure why). I feel like my day has started with me already running behind in lots of things. I mean, my day (it is only 10:20!) already seems a bit undone. So, this morning as I contemplated my situation, the post below kind of summed up my mood. I thought I'd repost it for that reason (and maybe it will encourage some of you).

As you stand before God undone today, as you unravel in his presence, cling tightly to the promise that he has given--"I will never leave you nor forsake you." Stand or sit before Jesus and just let your life pause before him for a moment. Join me and come undone. Let's unravel in his presence. I hope you enjoy this little meditation from 2008.

Today as I drove to work, I couldn't help a bit of melancholy.

The weather was cool, traffic was light, the music was breezy, the mountains were august, the sun brilliant, . . .

and I was melancholy.

As I drove I began to think of Abraham, Moses, and Isaiah for some reason. Each of these individuals had an amazing encounter with God. Abraham (while still "Abram") encountered the God of covenants. During a dream at night terrors seized Abram as he saw the torch of God move between the divided carcasses of the animal sacrifices. Abram was undone.

Moses encountered God first as an enigma. Moses saw a bush that was on fire and yet not burning. He went closer, he heard God, he took off his shoes. He was undone, his life would never be the same.

Isaiah lost a friend and a hero. When King Uzziah died, Isaiah wept and went into deep mourning. During his depression, Isaiah had a vision. Angels flew about, the holiness and awesomeness of God shook the foundation and pillars of the Temple.

God spoke, Isaiah trembled.

When Isaiah dared to speak in this holy company, the words out of his mouth were "Woe is me, I am undone!"

As I understand it, the Hebrew here has the meaning of being unzipped from the belly to the neck so that your insides spill out.

Okay, maybe I'm stretching it a bit, but it was not a happy thought for Isaiah. He felt unraveled in the presence of God.

That kind of describes my melancholy today . . . I feel unraveled. Like a ball of yarn that has lost its consistency, I am loose and dangly.

Like a sweater pulled apart thread-by-thread, I am undone.

I look at the majesty around me, the beauty and holiness and awe-fulness of it all, and I find myself undone.

It is not a bad feeling necessarily, but it is a bit unnerving.

I feel unraveled.

Like a joke with no punch line, or a sitcom with no laugh track, or a book with no thesis or direction, or a story with no meaning . . .

I feel undone.

How do I explain what is happening in my heart when words seem hard to find?

Life is good, things seem to be fine, but I feel . . . well, what?

I think that this is a normal human emotion, and it is one I've encountered before. I'm not depressed; in fact, I'm not really sad at all! I'm actually smiling as I type these words!

I sit here in the midst of an august band of people, activities, and stuff, and I feel a bit unraveled.

Maybe I'm just relaxing . . . loosening things a bit in preparation for the next battle or the next activity or the next thing.

Maybe it is a "Selah," a sort of pause of spirit that causes me to reflect a bit.

It is a good thing, I think, to be unraveled before God and his wonderful creation.

So, like Paul, I will relish in my unraveling, in my undoing, in my weakness . . . for when I am weak, God is strong. When I am undone, God still does. When I am unraveled, Jesus holds all things together.

I smile, I sigh. I listen to U2 and Larry Norman and Bob Dylan.

I will go find some Jonny Lang or Switchfoot. I will relish in the tones, in the thoughts, in the music. I will unravel before God and just be. I will let myself be undone so that he can renew me.

What a wonderful life!

Thanks for reading!

Bringing Down Walls Ephesians 2:11-22

The notes below are from a sermon I preached on Ephesians 2:11-22. Some of them are incomplete, but I hope that they are a blessing nonetheless. I preached this about 8 months ago. 

Intro—Walls take all kinds of forms. They can be tall, they can be short, they can be wide, they can be narrow, they can even span miles. Just think of some famous walls: Berlin Wall (built in the 60s, came down later 1989-90), Great Wall of China (parts are over 2000 years old, 13,000 miles long), Wall of separation between church and state, border wall, the Wall of the Jewish Temple, etc.

What is the purpose of a wall? It could be many things: Protection, enclosure, imprisonment, keeping others out, etc. Robert Frost—“Mending Wall”—“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.” “Good fences make good neighors.”

One purpose for a wall is separation—a completion of a barrier keeping two groups apart. Our passage today deals with walls, and even though part of the focus is on a spiritual kind of wall, physical walls play a role. Look at Paul’s words in Ephesians 2:11-22.

When the walls come down, God’s temple can go up.

Point 1 Walls Cause Division: The Wall of Hostility (2:11-16)

Paul starts by distinguishing between Jews and Gentiles. It was an age old prejudice. The people of God vs. the others. God’s chosen vs. the excluded. Clean vs. unclean. There is no secret that in Paul’s day Jews and gentiles didn’t get along. Note how Paul describes the Gentiles here (2:11-12): uncircumcised, outside of Messiah (and the messianic promises), excluded from Israel, strangers/aliens to the covenants and promises (i.e., outside of Jewish world), and without hope and without God in the world. This is at least how some of the Jewish people understood gentiles. 

Look at the Temple: Holy of Holies, Holy Place, Court of the Jews, and Court of the Gentiles (where Jesus chases out the moneychangers). On the wall between the court of the Gentiles and the court of the Jews was a sign warning anyone who was not a Jew that they could die (perhaps by God’s hand) if they entered the court unworthily. These walls created division, they separated people, perhaps they even caused prejudice.

What walls separate us today? Walls of race, economics/income, politics, personal issues. Sometimes we build walls in an effort to “protect” ourselves, but we often end up in isolation. Sometimes we build walls by our selfish endeavors, we have a kingdom to protect so we build walls to keep the undesirable or competitor out.

How do we build those walls? We build them by excluding anyone we consider the “other”, the “gentile”, the “unclean”. Disagreement on protocol, disagreement on decisions, even the willingness and desire to focus on the past (how we used to do it) instead of listening to God about our future.

Walls separate—walls that may be a result of some form of hostility.

We disagree, so we build walls. We don’t want to mix with “those kind of people”, so we build walls. We think we know better than others, so we build walls. Soon we find ourselves walled in like a monastery. We are no longer in community, but we find ourselves isolated. Walls can isolate, and that isolation can cause division and hostility.

Don Harbuck once said that all these walls are really just one wall. “The wall is everywhere. All of us know about it. No age or age group has gone unshaped by its pernicious power. Its menacing power moves the length and breadth of human existence. What wall is it? Paul calls it the dividing wall of hostility. It is the wall that separates and fragments and isolates. It is the wall that keeps people apart. It makes them suspicious and distrustful of each other. It kills fellowship and breeds prejudice and spreads gossip and sets loose the dogs of war. It takes many forms but it always remains the same wall wherever we encounter it.”

Remember, when the walls come down, God’s Temple can go up.

My favorite words in this passage are in verse 13: “But now in Messiah Jesus”—here we have God’s great wrecking ball by which he brings down the walls of hostility that divide us.  Those who are far away—the people who did not know God, who were not part of God’s people, the unclean. Those who are near—those who think of themselves as “clean” or “in”.

In verses 14-16, Paul reminds us that God uses the blood of Jesus to bring together both groups of people. Think of the sacrificial system of Israel—without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sin. Consider the separation the wall of sin creates. The sacrificial system provided a temporary patch to deal with the separation of sin. Jesus’ “once for all” sacrifice deals with it permanently. The wall of hostility has come down because of Jesus’ death. But it wasn’t just the demolition of a wall that was God’s goal, he also intended to take two disparate and even warring groups and make one new person out of them. When the walls come down, God’s temple can go up!

Note the corporate nature of this event. God isn’t simply saving individual souls to make them “clean,” God is reconciling groups to make ONE NEW PERSON out of them all. As Paul will go on in chapters 3 and 4 to discuss, the goal here is the building up of the body of Christ. The body of Christ, the bride of Christ, the people of God is indeed composed of individuals, but it is supposed to be a company of “peace”. The body of Christ is a corporate thing, not an isolated individual thing. To bring about peace (i.e. "shalom") requires at least two people, it requires a community.

Shalom—a sense of wholeness—humans cannot have that in isolation, but only in community! Jesus becomes the means by which the walls come down, the person whose sacrifice produces reconciliation, and the one who brings peace. It is non-negotiable, there is no other way.  The reconciliation of verse 16 is brought about by the death of hostility. The walls MUST come down or God’s temple will not go up. God will not build on YOUR personal favorite foundation. He will only build on the foundation of the death and resurrection of Jesus the Messiah. Jesus' death on the cross is the means by which hostility is defeated, the walls are torn down, and God’s temple is built. You cannot have it any other way.

Tozer says: "God never negotiates with men. Jesus Christ's death on the Cross put an end to any kind of negotiations. It is now Christ or nothing. It is God's Word or its entirety or nothing."  

What walls do we need to tear down (or better, where does Jesus need to come and tear down our walls by his sacrificial life and death)? Where do we need hostility to cease? Where do we need to repent and turn to the wrecking ball and architect of God (remember, Jesus’ earthly adopted father Joseph was a builder, and Jesus’ heavenly Father is a Creator)?

Jesus brings the walls down, but he is also the cornerstone on which the new Temple is built. When walls come down, God’s Temple can go up!

Point 2 God’s Foundation brings Unity: The Temple of God (2:17-22)

Two “peoples” of God: One made up of human ancestry (Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, etc.) the other created by the Holy Spirit. Both came into existence by God’s grace and promises. Circumcision of flesh vs circumcision of heart. One is a physical wall/demarcation, the other is spiritual. It is a matter of the heart.

There are two Temples in our passage: One made with human hands, one made by God; one that was stable, immovable, and had walls to separate people, one that is dynamic, active, and without walls—both commanded by God and by his promises. The Temple God desires is NOT a building or a specific group, it is a living, breathing, “going” entity/congregation that does not sit idle or look to the past. Look at Isaiah 66—where will God dwell? 

Paul tells us that God will dwell in a people who are built up on Jesus and without walls. You’ve heard of “Doctors without borders”, think of this as “God’s people without walls” or “The church without boundaries” or something similar.

2:17-18: Jesus proclaims shalom to ALL—those who are in and those who are not. There is no privileged position, since ALL need to hear the good news of Shalom from Jesus. Paul returns to “we” language in verse 18 and reminds us that WE ALL have access to God’s reconciliation, to God himself, as a result of what Jesus has accomplished. We can’t be the people we are called to be unless we come to the wall wrecker and temple builder—Jesus the Messiah. Outside of him there is no peace, no people, and no reconciliation. Paul reminds us that Jesus is the ONLY way to be a part of God’s temple. He tears down our walls and then builds us up. When the walls come down, God’s temple can go up!

2:19-20: When Jesus tears down our walls of hostility, he brings us into a family. We are not saved as lone ranger Christians to “go it” on our own. We are born into a community of people who allow Jesus to destroy their walls while relying on him to also build them up! Through Jesus, and him alone, we become God’s household built on God’s foundation and cornerstone. We cannot get there without help. Our walls hinder us, and we need Jesus to make us a “new creation”.

2:21-22: God’s Temple—built on Jesus, built for Jesus, full of God’s Spirit. You cannot claim to have God’s Spirit if you also build a wall between yourself and others.

Galatians 3:28: There is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

When the walls come down, God’s Temple can go up.

God will not build his church with our walls, with our selfish plans, with our prejudices, with our hostilities. He will build it on selfless sacrifice. He will build it by tearing down walls of hostility and building on the death and resurrection of Jesus. If we do not have the right foundation, we will find our work failing.

When the walls come down, God’s temple can go up.

Conclusion:

So, how do we respond?

First—what walls of hostility do you have between you and God? Have you come to know his grace and mercy through Jesus? Are you angry at God for not doing things the way you want him to? Are you living in a past tense view of ministry and longing for the old ways when God has called you to move forward? His people, his body, his temple is not stationary, it is on the move! Ask Jesus to deal with your walls today. Repent of building your own temple and ask God to show you how to move forward. Call on him, he will respond.

Second—what walls of hostility do we have with others? We need to tear those down. We need to humble ourselves and serve others EVEN if they do NOT deserve it (as Jesus did in Phil 2). 

Third—a church cannot move forward if it is content to sit still and build its own little kingdoms and walls. Jesus said to seek God’s kingdom first, not our own isolated realms. What do we need to leave behind today to move forward with Jesus. What grudges are we holding, what walls are we building, where do we need to repent.

Finally—where do you need God’s Shalom? Where is reconciliation and a sense of well-being needed in your life today? Come to the wall wrecker and temple builder and let him deal with it. Ask him to destroy what is keeping you from reconciliation, and ask him to establish what will lead to Shalom.

Thank your for reading! 

Biblical Illiteracy: Clean Slate with Mark Tinsley

About a month ago I was privileged to be a part of a podcast on the Clean Slate show hosted by Mark Tinsley. We discussed the issues of biblical illiteracy in American churches and society and how to combat the problem. The podcast is about 40 minutes long, and the link is below. I would be honored to hear your comments. Thank you!

Clean Slate: Biblical Illiteracy

Feeling Worthless and the Power of Affirmation

"I just feel worthless," he said quietly.

It wasn't the way he said it that attracted my attention, but it was his demeanor. This was a person who was in some sense utterly defeated. Everything about him echoed his words. Worthless. Useless. Empty.

I wasn't sure at first how to respond. Sitting before me was a shell, an empty person who felt as though he had absolutely nothing to offer.

I tried to help. "You're not worthless, just look at all you've accomplished."

The words sounded hollow, almost accusatory. His eyes flashed, but it wasn't "life" coming in. It was genuine anger. I had misunderstood him.

"No, you don't get it. I have nothing to offer. I am worthless. I am done."

The words hung in the air like heavy fog, demanding an answer. I honestly didn't know what to say.

If you knew this man, you'd be surprised at his self-evaluation. He earned several degrees (some from prestigious universities and with well known professors). He taught thousands of people, and he mentored many who would ultimately follow in his academic footsteps. He had traveled to a variety of places. He married well and his children were healthy, intelligent, and well behaved. He had rebounded from a moral failure and rebuilt his life and reputation. He was respected by his peers. He "had it all" in a country where such an existence was supposed to be the "American dream".

I wanted to remind him of these things, but he sat there glaring. His red eyes and sad look reminded me of an old derelict building left standing too long that now leaned and threatened to fall over. The supports were gone, the shell was hollow, there was nothing left. How do you rebuild on such a foundation?

The person sitting before me was an encourager. Many times I saw him take last place so that others would be acknowledged and even honored. He prayed that his students would accomplish more than he, and they did! Oh my, how well his students had done! The man went out of his way to make sure others were served, to make sure that others had affirmation, that others were encouraged. He was a Barnabas, and people would flock to him to receive his ministry of encouragement.

Yet here he sat, downcast, done, empty . . . How do you encourage the empathetic man of encouragement who has run dry? Who is worthy of the task?

And then I had an idea. I looked into his eyes and his sad face, and I said, "You know, sometimes I wish I had your life."

He gave me an incredulous look, but I continued. "I can't count how many times I wished I could treat others as well as you treat them." Then I said, "I love you, and I can't imagine what this world would be like without someone like you."

The eyes that were wet with tears showed a few signs of life. A wry grin appeared on his face. Life was returning, and for a moment the derelict building began to look a bit like a stately home once again.

He didn't need a history lesson. He didn't need me to recount his glorious deeds. He simply need to be affirmed. He needed appreciation.

I didn't write this story to get you to feel sorry for this man (okay, maybe just a little), but I wrote this to be a reminder to us all. We need to be appreciated, we need to be affirmed. We all cry out to be loved.

You see, this person's story could be your story, it could be my story. Life has a way of draining us, and sometimes we aren't sure how to refill the well. Feelings of worthlessness can pile up, and we begin to compare ourselves to others (often unrealistically). "I'm not good enough. I don't have the stuff. I'm not needed."

Yet the truth is probably bigger than we realize, and a little affirmation can go a long way.

Take a moment today. Give some affirmation to someone who has encouraged you. Let people know that you appreciate them, and that you are thankful for their contribution to your life. Who knows, it could restore life . . . maybe even yours.

Thank you for reading!

Annual Father's Day Post

With today being Fathers' Day, I couldn't think of any better way to honor my Dad than to repost something I wrote some years ago.  You see, my Dad passed away in 2004, just before I had the privilege of coming to work for Liberty University.  My Dad's dream was that I would get to go to Liberty, but you would not believe how excited he was to know that I would be teaching there!

My Dad was quite a man, and almost everyone who ever met him loved him.  He could tell some of the funniest stories, but most of all he kept us connected to the history of his family.  To be honest, I miss him, and I would love an opportunity just to hear his stories all over again. Some of you never knew him, and I am genuinely sorry. He enriched the lives of so many with his infectious smile and easy generosity. I feel so much poorer without him, but I know he is with the Lord he loves so much. I love you, Dad.

I first wrote this in 2005, but it speaks volumes about my memories of my dad, Bobbie Eugene Percer, Sr. My dad was a hero to me in many ways, and I am terribly sorry that I never told him that to his face. At his funeral in 2004, literally hundreds of people stood in line for hours to tell us of the way my dad had blessed them. I heard stories of dad witnessing to people and leading them to the Lord, stories of dad giving money or clothes or time or work in order to help someone else find a better path in life, stories of my dad going out of his way to help others, etc. It humbled me. I had no idea how "big" a man my father was, how much of a blessing he was to many people. My dad left some mighty big shoes, and I hope I can be half the man he was. With that in mind, here is the first thing I wrote about my dad way back in 2005.

With Father's day coming up this weekend, I wanted to share some thoughts about my Father. You see, my father passed away in August 2004, and for many reasons thoughts of him have been central in my mind recently. I’m afraid I’m losing him.

Let me explain.

My dad wasn’t very active the last few years of life. Due to his own lack of proper care for his physical body and a host of problems with illness, the primary memory my children have of their grandfather is dad sitting in a big lounger watching TV and occasionally waking up long enough to tease them.

My children did not get to know my dad. Oh, my dad was never the most active guy in the world (I think I know where my own lack of activity comes from!), but he didn’t sit around a lot as I remember it. Dad coached baseball, football, basketball, if it had “ball” in the title, he learned it, played it, and probably coached it. My dad cared about folks that no one else wanted. He loved kids, especially his own. I once saw my dad kick a field goal from the 45 yard line (that’s a 55 yard kick, if you didn’t know!). I was in high school then, so dad was probably in his mid-40s. He could kick the ball further than the place kicker on our team.

I remember looking for dad’s vehicle to pull up at the football practice field. I don’t know if he knew that I saw him, but I looked for him to show up so I could perform for him. Dad didn’t get real excited about sports (that was mom’s job!), but you could tell when he was enjoying something. He had this infectious grin and mischievous smile that would literally light up his face. I heard that for almost 10 years after my younger brother graduated high school, dad would make his way to the practice field and sit in his car and watch the players go through their paces. For me, his watching was a comforting presence that reminded me that he was there if I needed him. Oh, I’ll admit that I didn’t “need” him as much as he would like, but it made me feel real good to know dad was there.

I miss him.

Sometimes in my work here, I think that dad is sitting in heaven, in his heavenly lounger, watching his boy perform. Oh, I’m not blindsiding running backs and quarterbacks any more, but I can’t help but think that dad is silently cheering for me. He sits there, intently studying me as I pace a classroom or teach a class or grade a paper. When I make a particularly brilliant play, he smiles that smile. Even when I don’t do so well, dad looks approvingly on his boy. I can see him, sitting there, a big glass of sweet tea on the table, a smile in his eyes, and joy in his heart. I want to make him proud, and I think he knows that.

My last words to my dad face-to-face were spoken around Easter of 2004. I don’t remember everything we discussed, but I remember putting my arm around his shoulders and looking into that face. His eyes were a bit dimmed by old age and sickness. But somewhere in those eyes I saw the place kicker kicking a field goal from the 45 yard line. I remember saying this to him, “Dad, I love you. I’ll see you later.” At his funeral in August 2004, the pastor asked me to pray at the grave site (actually, my mother asked me to do it). As I walked away from dad’s coffin, I touched the lid and said, “I love you, dad, see you later.”

I miss him, but thank God I will see him later. If your father is alive, call him up. Tell him you appreciate him and love him. Memories are great, but I’d love to have my dad here to hug again. He’s much better off, but I need his smile. Dad, I love you. See you later!

Thanks for reading!

Today's Topic--Freedom!

1 Peter 5:6-7
6 Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you at the proper time, 7 casting all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you. (NASU)

“Be not anxious! Earthly possessions dazzle our eyes and delude us into thinking that they can provide security and freedom from anxiety. Yet all the time they are the very source of all anxiety. If our hearts are set on them, our reward is an anxiety whose burden is intolerable. Anxiety creates its own treasures and they in turn beget further care. When we seek for security in possessions we are trying to drive out care with care and the net result is the precise opposite of our anticipations. The fetters which bind us to our possessions prove to be cares themselves.” From The Cost of Discipleship by Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Phil 3:19-21
20 For our citizenship is in heaven, from which also we eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ; 21 who will transform the body of our humble state into conformity with the body of His glory, by the exertion of the power that He has even to subject all things to Himself. (NASU)

What does it mean to be free? That isn't really a rhetorical question.

In America we talk of "Freedom" as if it is a birthright or an entitlement. We all want our "rights" protected so that we can pursue whatever petty little thing it is that makes us feel better.

Is this freedom?

I mean, look around us--we are tied to our cares and our anxieties, we are chained to our possessions. We run around anxiously trying to protect the very things that often hold us in the very chains of bondage.

Why do we do that?

Why do we think that a new job, spouse, haircut, car, movie, boat, home, location, etc. will free us into the blissful realm of happiness?

I don't know that I can answer that, but I know a remedy.

HUMILITY

It doesn't come cheap, and it isn't easy to maintain, but humility will help us break free from bondage.

Look at the Bonhoeffer quote above, then read the passage from Philippians underneath it.

Paul tells us that our citizenship is in another country besides this earthly domain. We don't belong here. Since we don't belong, why do we waste our time buying into the stuff of this place? Why do we bind ourselves to the stuff of earth?

Those who are Christ followers have a home that is not this mundane, temporary place. We have a home that is not fully realized yet, but it is one in which we can live to some degree right now. We don't have to wait for Independence Day or Christ's return, we can live abundantly now.

Okay, enough preaching. Here's the deal. We were meant to be free with heavenly freedom. We were not meant to be chained up here. Jesus didn't live, die, and get out of the grave just so I could have the latest laptop or so that my kids could enjoy the newest video games.

Jesus lived so that he could grant us true freedom.

Tonio K sings a song that I think is appropriate here. The song is entitled "You will go Free." Enjoy!

you've been a prisoner
been a prisoner all your life
held captive in an alien world
where they hold your need for love to your throat like a knife
and they make you jump
and they make you do tricks
they take what started off as such an innocent heart
and they break it and break it and break it
until it almost can't be found

well i don't know when
and it don't know how
i don't know how long it's gonna take
i don't know how hard it will be
but i know
you will go free

you can call it the devil
call it the big lie
call it a fallen world
what ever it is it ruins almost everything we try
it's the sins of the fathers
it's the choices we make
it's people screaming without making a sound
from prison cells in paradise
where we're chained to our mistakes

well i don't know when
and it don't know how
i don't know how much it's gonna cost you
probably everything
but i know
you will go free

you can't see your jailer
you can't see the bars
you can't turn your head round fast enough
but it's everywhere you are
it's all around you
and everywhere you walk this prison yard surrounds you

but in the midst of all this darkness
in the middle of this night
i see truth cut through this curtain like a laser
like a pure and holy light
and i know i can't touch you now
and i don't want to speak too soon
but when we get sprung
from out of our cages baby
god knows what we might do

well i don't know when
and it don't know how
i don't know if you'll be leaving alone
or if you'll be leaving with me
but i know
you will go free

Be free.

Live humbly.

Do justice.

Thanks for reading!