Devotionals
God is Always at Work
My brother-in-law was recently given a rare privilege. He is a behind the scenes actor in the Cobra Kai series, which is being filmed in Atlanta. The series is a spin off from the blockbuster movie from the 1980’s, The Karate Kid. It even has many of the same actors, including Ralph Macchio. I haven’t watched the series, but as a child who grew up in this decade, The Karate Kid was one of my favorite movies. I think every red-blooded boy of my era was fascinated with the “crane technique” and we mimicked it regularly with our friends. I must confess that I still pull out the movie and watch it from time to time. They just don’t make movies like they did back then.
If you are familiar with the film, you know that one of the most dramatic scenes is when Mr. Miyagi, Daniel’s friend and mentor who teaches him karate, reveals everything Daniel has learned. You see, Daniel, who is 16, is being bullied by some boys who know karate, and Mr. Miyagi volunteers to train him so that Daniel can face these teenage bullies in a local karate tournament and earn their respect. Yet, Daniel’s training is not what he expects from Mr. Miyagi. Instead of learning karate, Daniel is told to wash and wax Mr. Miyagi’s cars, paint his fence, sand his outdoor floors, and paint his house. After several days of this, Daniel has had enough. He does not understand how any of this has to do with karate. He gets angry and prepares to leave. He thinks this has all been a waste of time.
What Daniel does not know is that he has been learning vital karate moves with every chore he is given. Waxing the cars is one block, as is paining the fence, and the house. Sanding the floor is yet another. And in this dramatic scene, Mr. Miyagi shows Daniel all he has learned, as he attacks him, and Daniel blocks his every move. Daniel is stunned. Dumbfounded. All this time, Mr. Miyagi has known exactly what was going on, even though Daniel has had no clue. Mr. Miyagi has simply asked for trust and obedience from Daniel. And now Daniel sees why.
If you are like me, you have likely discovered the same type of pattern with God. There are periods in our lives when we have no idea what he is up to, why certain things have happened the way they have. All we know is that we are to trust and obey. And then there’s that moment when it all becomes clear, when we look back and see exactly what God was doing, and how we are stronger because of trusting him with what we did not know. Hebrews 11:6 says, “And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.” And what is faith? Verse 1 of the same chapter tells us that it is “confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.”
So do not be discouraged this week. God is up to more than you know. Give it time. Keep trusting. Keep living the life Jesus died and rose again for you to live. Keep seeking him first. Make the best decisions with his guidance you can make, and in time, you may just see how God’s hand has been at work in ways you never knew.
I Will Never Forget Damon Walker
I was privileged to preach on Easter Sunday. As I was preparing for the sermon from John’s account, I was struck by his description of how the strips of linen that had been wrapped around Jesus’ body were lying there as if they had never been touched, along with the face cloth that had been on Jesus’ head. Incredibly it was “folded up in a place by itself” (John 20:7). The words “folded up” are words to pay attention to. Everything was clean and neatly back in place. No “body” was there. The effects of death were gone.
Sixteen years ago today, I lost one of my best friends to cancer. His name was Damon Walker, and he was only thirty years old at the time. I was thirty-three. We had developed a close friendship after his diagnosis, as his parents attended the church I pastored in middle Georgia. Together, we spoke about the deeper realities of faith, the “unseen world” of heaven. Damon taught me how to play golf, and his dad, Robert, gave me my first set of golf clubs, Ping G-5’s. Our hopes and prayers were that Damon would be cured, and for a time, it looked like it just might happen. However, his life was cut short on this day, and I’ll never forget what it was like on the morning when I walked into the room where he had been staying.
The night before, I sat with Damon and his parents at his bedside. For the last several days, I had spent much of my time there. Yet, on this night, we all sensed that heaven was near for Damon, and I remember praying over him, asking the Lord to take him to his eternal home where there was no more pain. I left late that evening and went straight to bed. When I woke up, I immediately got into the car and raced back to be with him, unsure of what may have happened during the night. However, when I walked into his room, there was no one there. And to my amazement, his room was clean and the bed where he had been the last three days was neatly made. The sun was shining through the windows onto the place where the bedspread was draped over the pillow. I immediately thought of John’s resurrection account, how the cloth that had been around Jesus’ head was “folded up.”
It was a surreal moment for me as I knew that my friend was now in heaven with Christ. Yet, the neatly made bed served as a reminder that this was the case because of the cloth that was also neatly folded in the tomb of Jesus, because the place that had housed his body for three days was also empty. Great sadness was still mine to experience in saying good-bye to Damon, great sadness for his family, and all who knew him well. Sixteen years later, I still wish I could call his number on my cell phone and just chat for a while. I wish we could tee up some golf balls and play a round or two. Yet, because of this triumph that Jesus accomplished, because he conquered death for all believers, I know I will spend eternity with my friend.
God brings so much good out of what we perceive as bad. I have not spoken to his family in many years, but I hope they know I will never forget their son. I hope they understand the impact he had on my life and my faith. They may be amazed to learn that when I think of him, I think of Jesus, and I am emboldened to preach his Word, to preach the gospel, as a result. The word “gospel” literally means “good news.” It changed Damon’s life and brought much heavenly good out of earthly bad. And it continues to do the same for countless others in this world. Will you allow it to be “good news” for you this week?
What Happens to Nicodemus?
We are first introduced to Nicodemus in John chapter 3. He is a member of the Jewish Sanhedrin who is intrigued by Jesus, and he comes to Jesus under the cover of night so he can ask him questions he longs to know the answers to. The implication is that Nicodemus sees something in Jesus the other religious leaders do not see. He is not so quick to disregard his claims. Yet, he is still puzzled, unsure, and noncommittal. This is why he arranges a “safe” meeting with Jesus where he can ask him pointed questions. This “under the radar” meeting provides us with our most famous verse as evangelical Christians, John 3:16. “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”
In this conversation, Nicodemus is most confused about Jesus’ statement that a person must be “born again” to see the kingdom of God. “How can someone be born when they are old?” he asks. “Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb to be born!” Nicodemus is perplexed. He is not ready to declare Jesus as the Jewish Messiah, yet he is not ready to dismiss him either. Again, he is noncommittal. We do not hear any more about Nicodemus throughout John’s gospel until chapter 20, where we learn that he helps Joseph of Arimathea, a “secret” disciple of Jesus, with the burial of Jesus’ body. The two men risk ritual defilement by touching a corpse that day. Together, they wrap Jesus’ body with spices and strips of linen and bury him in Joseph’s own tomb.
Does Nicodemus also become a “secret” disciple of Jesus? The evidence seems to suggest this. Why else would he risk so much to ensure Jesus has a proper burial? Yet, there is tension here. If he is a member of the Sanhedrin, then he is also present when Jesus is questioned and illegally tried. He does nothing. His silence lends approval to Jesus’ death. And yet, something within him must have stirred this desire to bury Jesus. Was it watching Jesus die on the cross? Was it the words he uttered to his Father, the forgiveness he pled for on behalf of those responsible for his death, forgiveness for him? It was something, for sure.
The Bible does not tell us what happens with either Nicodemus or Joseph. We can only guess. I like to think that both become members of the new Christian movement. Perhaps they are present on the Day of Pentecost when Peter preaches in the power of the Spirit and three thousand people become saved. Maybe they are saved as well. If they are, Nicodemus finally gains his understanding of what it means to be “born again.” I hope my version of the story is true.
I would wager to say that there are many this Easter who are in a place like Nicodemus. All their lives they have been intrigued by Jesus. Yet, his words have also puzzled them. The result has been a noncommittal stance. They have never decided. My prayer this Easter is that God will bless them with a “born again” experience, that they will come to know this Jesus in a personal way, that he will fill them with the presence of his Spirit and visit their lives with mercy and grace. Easter is the opportunity for all of us to respond to the good news the resurrection brings. Will you be open to such a decision and the life change it can bring?
“Mold Me and Make Me After They Will”
I am the father of three boys. They are getting older now, and so they probably do not like for me to refer to them as “boys.” They are 20, 17, and 15 respectively. And each one of them is uniquely gifted by God. I think this is the thing about being a parent that is so amazing. As your children get older, they start becoming the individuals God has made them to be. And the fact that he is their Creator becomes obvious, as my sons possess gifts and qualities that my genes could have never produced. I brag on each of them from time to time. Today, I’ll brag on my youngest son, Jackson.
Jackson is an outdoorsman. He loves anything that has to do with being outside in God’s creation. He loves to fish, ride his dirt bike, and camp out. He also loves to use a chainsaw. Believe it or not, he taught himself how. Yet, that’s not all. He has learned how to carve amazing works of art using this chainsaw. He has crafted cutting boards and crosses. And he has received instruction from no person in how to do so. That’s how you know that a characteristic is God-given.
Sometimes, I’ll hear the roar of his chainsaw, and that’s when I know that Jackson is up to something. He is creating a masterpiece, something he already has in his mind to create. The finished product is a vision that only he knows, and he works and works and works until it is complete. What’s interesting is that as I watch him work, I have no idea what he is doing. There is no clue in my mind what the finished product will look like. I can guess, but usually my guesses are wrong. I only know when he is finished. I see and hear his constant labor, though, and this gives me the assurance that whatever he is making will come to complete fruition in due time, his time, not mine.
It's so similar with God and us. As Jeremiah and Paul rightly observe, he is the Potter, and we are the clay. And every day, he is busy crafting us after his design. He is making us more like Jesus, for sure, but he is also wielding us into an instrument for his use, a finished product that only he knows. Sometimes, well-meaning people will confidently boast that they know what he is doing with us. And from their vantage point, they think they are correct. Yet only God knows the precise nature of his will for a person’s life. And his will is something he reveals in time to that person as they cooperate with him. Other people help for sure, but he places his desires ultimately in the person’s heart. Case in point, Billy Graham was told by the President of a Christian college he attended that he would never amount to anything in ministry, and that he was doomed to be a failure for the rest of his life. I’m glad Billy Graham listened to God instead.
All of this to say, be patient with God’s process. Both with yourself and others. He knows what he is doing. He knows what he is up to. And he is committed to the process until the end of our days in this world. What he desires from us is a willingness to be molded by him, to let him be the ultimate Potter in our lives. His grace assures us that he’ll keep working with us, as we so often become clay that is broken. Yet, his daily presence provides us with strength to always know that what he starts, he is committed to finishing. Will you allow him to mold you today?
Grace Produces Holiness
Lewis Drummond was my evangelism professor at Beeson Divinity School. I remember his notable spunk. His enthusiasm for the gospel deterred any temptation to sleep in class among the countless seminary students he taught. He coined many phrases in his lectures, but there is one I remember more than any other. With gusto, he would say, “We save them by grace, and then put them back under the law!” He was referring to the tendency among some preachers to emphasize holiness in their sermons without reference to the grace that is responsible for producing holiness. His point was obvious. This is no different than the Old Covenant.
I remember the title of a sermon I preached years ago was “Grace Produces Holiness.” Have you ever thought about that concept, the fact that grace produces holiness in our lives? Wesley taught about this extensively. He recognized how Scripture teaches that grace is responsible for our sanctification. When a believer grasps the fact that they have been set free from the shame and condemnation associated with past sins, that they are accepted by Christ as they are, completely forgiven, they also recognize they are free to allow the Spirit to work in their lives, the “Holy” Spirit. Their awareness of ongoing grace leads them to consider themselves “dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 6:11). Holiness and good works are the result, holiness and good works that come from within, from Christ who lives within us.
Jesus had many clashes with the religious leaders of his day. In one of his most poignant, he accused the Pharisees of cleaning “the outside of the cup and dish” while the inside remained filled with “greed and wickedness” (Luke 11:39). His point was obvious. Theirs was a religion of externals rather than the heart. They had no relationship with God, a relationship that would change the heart. Such is why the Old Covenant does not work. It’s about what we can do for God rather than what God has done for us through Christ. Religion is spelled d-o, as it is based on outward works. Relationship with Christ is spelled d-o-n-e, as it produces the inner change that truly affects outward behavior.
The author of Hebrews articulates the difference between the Old Covenant and the New, as he quotes the prophet, Jeremiah. “I will put my laws in their minds and write them on their hearts,” he says, an indication that transformation will take place on the inside first, something that only Christ can do (Heb. 8:10). “They will all know me,” he continues, “from the least of them to the greatest,” another reminder of the relationship with Christ we are privileged to possess (Heb. 8:11). And here is the clincher, “for I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more,” a clear reference to grace that undergirds us as believers (Heb. 8:12). Even if we stumble, which is daily, grace is there. Mistakes no longer count against us. We are free to allow Christ to produce right living in us. Such is why Paul writes as follows: “For sin shall not be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace” (Rom. 6:14).
There is a clear order when it comes to holiness. Relationship first. Recognition of grace first. Without it, we hopelessly try to earn our right standing with God. We revert to the terms of the Old Covenant. We serve God in fear, rather than in confidence. We attempt to achieve for God rather than allowing Christ to live in us and through us. We forget how loved by him we really are. So, let us not, as Dr. Drummond warns, be saved by grace but then operate under the terms of the law. Instead, may we celebrate with John Newton “that grace has brought {us} safe thus far, and grace will lead {us} home.”
Valentine’s Day and God’s Love
Today is Valentine’s Day. If you are married or in a dating relationship, chances are you have already bought your sweetheart some chocolate candy or flowers. You may even have a romantic dinner planned this evening at your favorite restaurant. Valentine’s Day is a holiday about love, based on the legend of a priest named Valentine, who continued to perform wedding ceremonies for couples even though the emperor had banned marriage. Valentine, the priest, believed the love between a man and a woman was God-given and that marriage was a sacred right. His conviction landed him in prison and cost him his life. Legend has it that before his execution, the priest sent a letter to the jailer’s daughter, who he had grown fond of, and signed it, “Love from your Valentine.” The first “Valentine” as we know it.
I have had a couple of opportunities to speak about God’s love in this month that contains Valentine’s Day, and as I have prepared for these engagements, I was struck by the powerful language the Bible uses to describe it. Romans 5:8 tells us that “God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Meaning the crucifixion is the way God has put his love for us into action. The cross, of course, accomplished the substitutionary atonement, forgiveness of all sin, past, present, and future. The death of Jesus has assured us that when we die as believers, we really don’t, that instead we go on to be with Christ forever. Yet, Paul gives us another way of viewing the events of Good Friday, as if all of this was not enough. They were a demonstration of God’s love for us, for sinners who do not deserve it. That means you. That means me. “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Rom.3:23).
Paul’s prayer in Ephesians is that we would be “rooted and established” in this love that Jesus has demonstrated to us (Eph. 3:17). He longs for us to “grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge” (Eph. 3:18-19). The language here is powerful. The implication is that God’s love for us is so great that it cannot be measured by scientific means. It surpasses human understanding and knowledge. Do you need to be reminded of this today? As the enemy whispers lies about your worth before God, do you need to remember that God’s love for you in Christ is so immense that every language that has ever existed fails to adequately describe it?
It goes even further. It gets even deeper, as God’s love, when responded to through repentance and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, becomes something we can never be separated from as believers. Hence, my favorite two verses in the entire Bible, Romans 8:38-39: “38 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Paul runs the gamut of possibilities here. The conclusion? Nothing we go through or suffer as believers, no mistake we make can ever come close to separating us from God’s love for us in Jesus. Your bad day is not as bad as you might think.
I could go on and on about God’s love, I really could. However, I want to close by reminding us of the message we have been commissioned to share with those who do not yet know anything about Jesus. “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life” (John 3:16). People who understand very little about Jesus, people who are blinded by sinful choices need to know how much they are loved by the God of this universe. They need to see this love in our lives and hear about it from our lips. Our kindness displayed through love can be the cause of their repentance and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ (Rom.2:4). Which can lead to radical life transformation, like the woman at the well in John chapter 4. She converted an entire village to Christ as a result. After drinking of Jesus’ love, she was never the same. Who might you need to share God’s love with on this Valentine’s Day?
“May the Son Enfold You!” -Bobby Bowden
I’ll never forget what I was doing when I met Bobby Bowden. It was July 2007. I was a full-time pastor and pursuing a doctorate degree at Samford University in Birmingham, Alabama. This was a degree designed for those in full-time ministry, which means that we would usually be on campus during the summer months and the month of January. The rest of the year we were reading and writing papers.
I was staying on campus, away from my wife and two little boys. I was living in a dorm room for two weeks and eating all my meals in the cafeteria. I discovered it was one thing to do this when you are in college, but it’s a lot different when you are nearly 35. I remember I was tired. I had worked a great deal this week, and it was catching up to me. I also remember the food I ate that night was not very good. I was wishing I was home with my wife and two sons. Since the food wasn’t luscious, I thought I would splurge and get some ice cream. I went to the machine and loaded up my bowl. I then turned around and was face to face with the legendary Hall of Fame college football coach, Bobby Bowden.
Why in the world was Bobby Bowden standing behind me waiting for ice cream? It turns out he was a genealogy buff and had been attending a seminar on campus with his wife. I stared in disbelief. What should I do? What should I say? I had been a huge Florida State football fan when I was in high school. I loved his Florida State teams and the coaches like Marc Richt, whom he had mentored and led to the Lord. Bobby Bowden always caught my attention because he was a committed Christian who felt his number one calling was to lead people to Christ. This was more than just a treat for a young preacher. It was like receiving a Rolls Royce.
I’ll never forget how Bowden dealt with me so gently that day. When I told him I was a preacher and would like his autograph, he stopped everything he was doing and signed one for me, but not just his name. He wrote a personal message along with the autograph. It reads this way: “To Steven, May the Son Enfold You! Bobby Bowden.” Yet, he wasn’t finished. He then paused to ask me a few questions. He wanted to know where I was from and where I pastored. He was so kind. And yes, I paraded with this autograph in front of my other preacher friends the next day in class. Even the professor was jealous. I had been given a tremendous gift by God, a gift I still remember vividly to this day.
“May the Son Enfold You!” In all my years of pastoring, I do not know that I have ever used the word “enfold” or heard another person use it in referring to Jesus. I’ve studied the autograph for years, yet when I looked at it yesterday, the word leaped out on the page in a way it never had. The word “enfold” means “to surround” or “envelope.” It also means “to hold or clasp (someone) lovingly in one’s arms.” Have you ever pictured Jesus’ love for you in this way? Have you ever envisioned him “enfolding” you? He does this more than we recognize. His love for us is much stronger than we will ever comprehend. Paul goes so far as to say that it “surpasses knowledge.” Think about that. Science cannot come close to measuring the vast nature of God’s love for us in Christ.
What this means is that our Lord is closer than we realize. He is present with us always. Many times, he is “enfolding” us without our knowledge of it. Like the Footprints poem says, he carries us, because we mean that much to him. I needed that reminder yesterday from Coach Bowden, God rest his soul, of the countless times in my life Christ has “enfolded” me. Did you need this reminder as well? Might he be “enfolding” you today?
Sometimes You Wanna Go, Where Everybody Knows Your Name,
It’s true. I used to watch the show, Cheers, growing up. It feels weird admitting this as a Baptist, because it’s a show that is based in a bar. Yet, what I always remember about this television sitcom growing up is not the acting, nor the comedy, nor the famous actors. I remember the theme song. “Sometimes you wanna go, where everybody knows your name. And they’re always glad you came. You wanna go where people know, people are all the same. You wanna go where everybody knows your name.” I would wager to say that most people forty and over can sing the words to this song by heart. We loved hearing it.
It dawned on me this past Sunday how the church should be such a place, how these words really should describe people’s experience with the church. The church is supposed to be a place “where everybody knows your name. And they’re always glad you came.” No matter what rejection a person has experienced during the week, no matter their personal struggles, be it with sin, or just life in general, church is supposed to be a haven where love and grace are experienced through our dealings with God’s people, a place where we worship God together through Christ as a result. What’s funny is that this dawned on me not in church, but in a restaurant of all places, a restaurant where I got to meet some very intriguing people.
You see, my wife has developed quite a talent for songwriting. She picked up the guitar a couple of years ago after a twenty-year absence and discovered a hidden gift she did not know she had, songwriting. This year, we encouraged her to enter a songwriting contest, and her song was selected, along with twenty others. What this means is that she got to perform the song in Chattanooga on Sunday afternoon, in front of three judges. While she did not win, I honestly scored her in the top three. She was amazing. However, what was interesting to both of us was talking and mingling with the other songwriters, most of who were very young.
They all looked extremely nervous and shy. When my wife picked up on this, she greeted them and threw out as much love as she could. That’s when they started talking. And because they felt comfortable and accepted, the rest of the afternoon we were privileged to listen to their stories of music and songwriting. Most had dreams to become performing artists. Most had incredible talents. And yet, they all possessed a need for extreme affirmation and encouragement, which they received from us and all the other songwriters. I almost felt like I was in church even though I was in a restaurant that contained a bar, a restaurant like Cheers. (Yes, I enjoyed my sweet tea.)
I was reminded I was not in church when a young man who played an incredible piano solo told me of his bad experience with a Christian private school he attended from kindergarten through high school. I knew the school. I had lived in Chattanooga. The school is well known for its extreme strictness. “I really don’t have any desire for religion,” he said. My heart sank. Somewhere along the line, perhaps the whole line, he had been given some bad gospel, a message that was not the gospel at all. Instead of the church being a place where he could receive the type of behavior he was presently receiving among the songwriters in this restaurant, he viewed church as a place of extreme judgment instead. The result is that he lost his belief in God altogether. He looked to me to be all of twenty-four or twenty-five years of age.
I have not officially been a pastor for two years. Yet, during the last two years I have learned more about people the church is trying to reach than in all my years as a pastor. I feel ashamed of that. Because I have learned there are a whole lot of people out there who God loves, yet people who will never step foot into a church sanctuary, a whole lot of people who have hurts and concerns just like we do as church people, a whole lot of people who desire a place “where everybody knows your name. And they’re always glad you came.” I am more convinced than ever that church is designed to be this place. And I am more convinced than ever that as God’s people we have been commissioned to be “salt and light” who draw people to this place, who draw them to the God who loves them and has a place for them in his family.
I don’t offer any easy answers for how we can reverse the trends of people feeling the way they do about the church. I can only tell you that God has certainly changed my heart. I no longer view people without church backgrounds as enemies to be conquered or statistics to add to my church role. Instead, I now see them the way I should have been seeing them all along, as people who God loves, and Jesus died for. I am no better than them. Instead, I am simply one beggar trying to tell another beggar where to find bread. Because I know that when they taste this “bread of life” through an authentic experience with Jesus and hopefully his church, their lives will never be the same. Who needs to feel this way about your church this week?
The Greatest Spiritual Lesson I Have Ever Learned
My fourth grade Sunday School teacher taught me the greatest spiritual lesson I have ever learned. His name was Mr. Henry. Mr. Henry has since passed away, but his lesson will live on forever in my mind. Amazingly, it was not a lesson from our Sunday School book that day, even though he taught us diligently from it each week. Instead, this lesson consisted of a disciplinary rebuke from Mr. Henry, delivered after he had gotten word of how a young boy had been treated in our class the previous week.
The boy’s name was Adam. And Adam was smaller than the other boys. He looked to me like maybe he was sick. I could not tell. I was sitting at the same table where he was that Sunday, but I did not say a thing. Yet, as I later learned, this did not make me innocent, as I had failed to speak up for him. That day, some other boys were making fun of Adam. They asked him what kind of watch he wore, and he answered that it was an Atlanta Braves watch. They laughed hysterically, as the Braves were the worst team in baseball that year. They then continued their jabs with other questions, each designed as a means of laughter at his expense. Adam’s spirit was crushed that day. And I remember how wrong it was. I remember how it made him feel, how hurt on the inside he must have been. Yet, I also remember how I did nothing.
The next Sunday, our teacher, Mr. Henry, who sported a flat top and was in his mid-forties, addressed the entire class. On this Sunday, Adam was not present. As a result, he took this opportunity to speak to the class in an extremely stern, yet calm voice. He was aware of what had happened with Adam the previous Sunday, how a group of boys had continuously poked fun of him and hurt his feelings. He then revealed to us that Adam was sick with a disease. This is why he was so small. He shared of how Adam’s mother was single and struggling to make ends meet. They had come to church that Sunday to receive love and support from the body of Christ, yet Adam had received the opposite from our Sunday School class. We had failed Jesus, he made it clear. The church is to be a place for those who are broken and hurting. And Adam and his mother were broken and hurting. We had embarrassed our Savior. We had misrepresented him through our actions, and we should beg our Lord for forgiveness. We should get on our knees and plead for a second chance. Mr. Henry then led us in such a prayer, as only a few children could hold back their tears.
After the prayer was over, Mr. Henry was clear that we had likely missed our opportunity to show Jesus to Adam and his family. Few people would return to any church after enduring such ridicule. “Let this be a lesson to you,” he said. “Do not EVER let it happen again.” We were all filled with shame. With regret. With sorrow. With guilt. We knew we had made a terrible mistake. And we were sorry. We wondered if we would ever see Adam again. We promised God that if we did see him again, we would show him Jesus. The class was dismissed, and we left in spiritual and emotional disarray.
A couple of Sundays later, one of the assistant teachers was summoned to the hall as we were having class. Noticing her departure, Mr. Henry followed her into the hall and then returned. He whispered to the class, “Adam and his mother are out there. His mother wants to be assured that Adam will not be treated the way he was before in this Sunday School class. God has answered our prayer and given us a second chance. Let’s thank him for this opportunity. Let’s show Adam Jesus.”
Adam sat at my table again, with the same boys who had ridiculed him a couple of weeks before. This time was it was much different though. The boys spoke to him, yes, but this time they uttered words of kindness, of encouragement, of love, of acceptance. They went OUT OF THEIR WAY to make Adam feel like he was royalty, to assure him he was among friends. “Would you like some raisins, Adam?” “Would you like to sit next to me, Adam?” I had never experienced such redemption in my ten years of living. I had never witnessed the love of Jesus shown to a young boy like I did to Adam that day, who smiled from cheek to cheek.
I owe a lot to Mr. Henry. I have two seminary degrees and have been in ministry for twenty-five years, but the greatest lesson I have learned about the purpose of the church came from my fourth-grade Sunday School teacher, Mr. Henry. God rest his soul. I don’t know what happened to Adam or those boys, but I bet they have never forgotten either. It’s hard to forget a lesson like that. So, never underestimate your kindness to others, especially in the house of the Lord. Be careful how you treat others, especially in the house of the Lord. You do not know the burdens they carry. You may be the only Jesus they ever see. Are you representing him well today?
Dreams and God’s Calling
I have always been fascinated by the story of Joseph in Genesis. For many reasons. Perhaps it is because I identify with him in more ways than I would care to admit. I understand what it is like to be called a “dreamer.” Anyone who has experienced a genuine calling of God whether it be to preach, or to go to the mission field, or to serve in some type of full-time capacity knows what it is like to be misunderstood. Many are dumbfounded and question the sanity of the called. “What’s so special about you?” “Why do you think God has communicated to you in ways he does not communicate to me?” And this only discourages the called, just like Joseph’s brothers discourage him, there can be no doubt. The problem is that Joseph’s brothers take it too far. They rid their lives of this “dreamer” brother of theirs. They throw him in a pit and then arrange for him to be sold into slavery. They do this to their brother. They forget they are their “brother’s keeper.”
What his brothers do not understand is that dreams, spiritual dreams, are given by God. Sure, Joseph is a young boastful teenager, and he does not handle the communication of this revelation well. I also find this to be true in many respects of younger folks who experience a calling. They imagine they will be the next Billy Graham, that they are somehow going to save the entire world and inadvertently turn off some with their descriptions of what they think God is doing. Joseph needs time to work through this revelation. He needs time to grow and mature. And he needs guidance. The problem is that his brothers force such a time on him by rejecting his revelation all together. Though God allows it and uses it to accomplish his ultimate purpose for Joseph and for Israel, let us not forget Joseph’s description of his brother’s actions. “You meant it for evil.” God uses it. God’s supreme purpose prevails. Yet the actions of his brothers are still “evil.” They reject their brother, that is bad enough. But they also reject God’s calling upon his life.
Joseph’s story is triumphant in the sense that it proves human beings cannot stop or halt the plan of God. Everywhere he goes, he is rejected it seems, yet everywhere he goes he is also promoted. The final promotion is the one that “saves lives.” He becomes Pharaoh’s right-hand man, the brain trust behind his rule. He wisely saves up grain for the famine, and when it hits, the land of Egypt is preserved. God’s dream comes true in his life, the same dream he had been given by God as a teenager. He does rule over the land, yet for God’s purpose of “saving lives.” All the hardship, though inexcusable, is worked together for good by God in the end. Again, human beings cannot stop or halt the plan of God. His “gifts and his call are irrevocable” (Romans 11:35). I am reminded of the famous statement in Acts by Gamaliel, “Leave these men alone” he says, “Let them go! For if their purpose or activity is of human origin, it will fail. But if it is from God, you will not be able to stop these men; you will only find yourselves fighting against God” (Acts 4:38-39).
God’s dreams are placed in people’s hearts for a reason. His reason. They are the impetus he uses to spur action, action he desires to take place, for his reasons, his purposes, his kingdom. When Joseph’s brothers see this, they cannot deny it. They can only throw themselves at his mercy and ask for forgiveness, which Joseph grants, though it is not easy. In fact, I believe it is terribly hard. The pain. The years of disappointment. The abandonment. All because of their actions. Yet, God’s plan has found fulfillment. His family has been reunited and preserved. His brothers have tasted the bitterness of their mistake and seem to be sorry. They are certainly very fearful. And amazingly, Joseph ends the cycle of ungrace shown to him by extending grace to his brothers. Which is quite ironic, I believe. Because any calling of God, any dream he places in our lives, comes for this reason. So, that we, as his called ones, might be dispensers of his grace, so that we can be used in whatever way he is calling us to be used to deliver the message that forgiveness is available to people, that “God so loved the world.” It’s called the gospel. And it’s the ultimate dream God has for the world. A dream that changes hearts. A dream that calls people to relationship with him. A dream God has promised to fulfill completely.
Do We Know the Heart of Jesus?
28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
-Matthew 11:28-30
As evangelicals, we speak often about the importance of having and participating in a personal relationship with Christ. We underscore the need to seek him first in all that we do, of participating in activities and spiritual disciplines that will enable us to live the kind of life of faith he is calling us to live, faith that is transforming to us and others around us, faith that is shared actively and routinely. Yet do we emphasize the need to know the heart of Jesus first? Is what we do for Jesus done with Jesus? In other words, are we allowing his Spirit to produce his heart within us?
Jesus reveals his heart in these verses. And there are three words worth focusing on if we want to better understand his heart, the words “rest,” “gentle,” and “humble,” words that describe Jesus to a “t.” Like many others, I became fascinated by the Chosen series. I streamed the episodes with my wife and was amazed at how Jesus was characterized by the producers. Much of what takes place in the series is conjecture, meaning that the writers are purposefully trying to fill in the blanks of Jesus’ ministry the gospels do not fill in, causing us to wonder about things that might have happened. As intriguing as this was, their larger accomplishment, I believe, was capturing the heart of Jesus in the process, the heart of Jesus that shines through the four gospels.
In his bestselling book, The Jesus I Never Knew, author Phillip Yancey describes the transformation that took place in his life when he really started studying the four gospels. What stood out the most to him is how Jesus treated people of all walks of life. Especially the broken and the hurting. Yancey became convinced that the people who loved Jesus the most were people who had experienced his love the most, people who he loved first. The woman at the well. The woman caught in adultery. Zacchaeus. Blind Bartimaeus. The way these individuals were treated by Jesus caused them to love Jesus, to leave their sin behind and follow him. I’m reminded of those three words again, “rest,” “gentle,” and “humble.”
What if these three words were used to describe us? Our character? What if the religious and nonreligious alike chose these words as adjectives of our hearts? What if people who were radically opposed to our belief system had nothing bad to say about the way we conducted ourselves daily? It would be quite a complement, I believe, because it would be an indication that we are faithfully representing our Savior, that we are consistently allowing the heart of Jesus to shine through us.
Billy Graham did this in ways that few others have. He was respected by people of all walks of life, politicians on both sides of the aisle, by Hollywood elitists who had no interest in the Christian faith. Still, they were intrigued by him, by his message, by the way he treated other people. Talk show hosts like Larry King would have him as a frequent guest. There was something about his heart they were drawn to and did not understand. They wanted to know more. Why? His kindness, there can be no doubt. But also, those three words again, “rest,” “gentle,” “humble.” Graham was at “rest” in his faith, the assurance he possessed was astounding. He was “gentle” in the way he treated all people, regardless of background or socioeconomic status. He was “humble” in the sense that he placed God first always and sought to place the needs of others ahead of his own.
So perhaps this week as we seek to fulfill that incredibly Great Commission, to be an active part of the mission of God which we know is life transformation, that we will allow the heart of Jesus to capture our hearts first, to control them, to fill every aspect of who we are and what we do, so that the essence of who Jesus is and what he desires for others will be faithfully conveyed to every person God places in our path, so that they will hear about and see Jesus through us.
A Christmas Hobby or a King?
Is Jesus your hobby or your king? That question was first posed to me by one of my mentors, Dr. Jim Denison. I heard him ask the question at a conference for spiritual awakening he cosponsored with Anne Graham Lotz, the daughter of the late Billy Graham. Both agreed the reason we are not seeing spiritual awakening in the United States is because too many people have not allowed Jesus to possess the rightful place he desires in our hearts, the place of king. They have relegated him to other positions instead. And we wonder why peace is not ours as individuals. We wonder why peace is not ours as a nation.
We feel threatened by Jesus’ desire to be the king of our lives, but why? He only desires what is best for us. And what is best is his plan, his will, a life lived in surrender to him. Ironically, this desire for surrender comes from an experience with his love and grace, from the understanding that there is nothing we can do to earn our salvation or right standing with him, that reconciliation with a holy God comes as a free gift through Jesus. This is what grace is. It is unmerited favor. “We love him because he first loved us,” John says (1 John 4:19). Which means that when the desire for surrender is not present, it is evidence we have settled for less than God’s love for us, for other idols that will ultimately lead to emptiness and despair. We fear surrendering control of our lives to Christ, but there is really no reason to.
Herod fears giving up his power in Matthew’s Christmas account. He falls prey to paranoia. The magi come to him asking where the king of the Jews is to be born. They have seen a star in the sky and are convinced it will lead them to the newborn king. Another king? Herod feels threatened immediately, even though this future king is obviously a child. In fact, he becomes convinced that he, as a human, can somehow thwart the plan of God. By ordering all the male children two years old and younger to be killed in the region of Bethlehem, he believes he can stop this king in his tracks and can preserve his own royalty. He is wrong. Joseph wisely heeds the instructions of the angel and takes Mary’s newborn son to Egypt for a time. Even the wise men are given a new route home by the angel, as God’s protective hand is with them. Herod cannot buck providence. And neither can we.
Too many react to the child the same way Herod does. They feel threatened by him. They do not want him to dethrone their lives and take control. The fear is just too great. They would have to give up too much, so they think. Little do they know that if they allowed the love of this child to shine just a small ray of light into their hearts, this fear would subside greatly. John says it best: “There is no fear in love. But perfect love casts out fear because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love” (1 John 4:19). In the end, Herod’s fear of giving up his throne leads to great suffering in the lives of others, and his own destruction as well, as his reign ends much sooner than he thinks. What might have happened had he bowed to the newborn king instead of fearing him? Undoubtedly, his life would have taken on a much different course.
As is the case with us. Jesus has come so that we may “have life and have it to the full” (John 10:10). He offers us a quality of life on earth along with a life that continues forever in heaven, a life that is eternal. Yet, too often we settle for second best. Dethroning ourselves as the king of our lives is a price that is deemed too high by far too many. And so, they continue to rule their own lives instead, and forfeit much by doing so. “We are half-hearted creatures,” writes C.S. Lewis, “fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
Might this Christmas season by different for you? Will you finally let go of this fear, fear that has prevented you for years from surrendering your life to this child? Will you pause long enough to approach the manger with a kind of boldness you never have, a confidence that causes you to gaze upon his eyes and discover infinite love instead, love that leads this child years later to die a cruel death on a Roman cross to completely remove your sin and mine, love that is made complete as he conquers death and is raised to life on the third day. By laying aside your fear, by relinquishing the throne of your life to this child, true life, real life can now be yours. Instead of your hobby this Christmas, will you make Jesus your King?
Be Gone, Old Ebenezer!
Sometimes I have resembled Ebenezer Scrooge at Christmas time more than I would like to admit. It’s not something I’m proud of, it’s just that, for whatever reason, the demands of the holidays have taken their toll on me more times than not. I think more people can relate to this than we may think. They may not readily admit it, but making sure that every gift has been purchased for every single person on their shopping list, that every party is attended, that thorough preparation has been made for extended family get-togethers can dampen the spirits of even the most kind and gentle people. By the time the week of Christmas rolls around, they find a “Ba Humbug” within them that is hard to shake.
Usually though, my Grinch-like spirit was thoroughly reversed on Christmas Eve. Typically, by then, all my preparations became complete, even though I descend from a long line of Christmas Eve shoppers. Later in the afternoon, it would be time to attend the Christmas Eve service at the church where I was the pastor. My thoughts would immediately shift to the spiritual reason for the celebration, as I would place the final touches on the message I would preach. Mary, Joseph, shepherds, and later the wise men. No room for the baby Jesus at the inn, no room for God who had come to visit his people. No room for the one who had come to embody “grace and truth.” “The world did not receive their king that night,” I would emphasize to the congregation. “What about us?” I would then ask. “Is their room in our hearts for him on this Christmas Eve?” “Will we choose to go to Bethlehem and gaze upon the newborn king?”
Later in the service, communion was observed, after which candles were lit as we sang the hymn, Silent Night, acapella. In some churches, we would exit in silence. In others, we stayed and mingled and took family pictures together. The old Ebenezer Scrooge within me was thoroughly gone by that time. Instead, the new Ebenezer full of joy and hope was alive and well. The reason? I had gone to Bethlehem and had left renewed. I had seen the eyes of the child who had come to take away my sins. I had been reminded in no uncertain terms that I was loved by God and Immanuel was the reason. I had been thoroughly immersed in his grace, and worship was the only appropriate response.
As the night came to a close, usually after our family meal was over and a few presents opened, I would prop up my feet and watch the movie, It’s a Wonderful Life. Though its theology of angels is not accurate, I am always amazed at the lesson it teaches. George Bailey is worth more to his fellow man than he realizes. More importantly, he is more valuable in the eyes of God than he has ever imagined, much more valuable, so much so that an angel is sent to him. He begs for a second chance and his gift is granted. The movie ends with his debt completely paid by the members of his town, as with gusto they sing together the hymn, Hark the Herald Angels Sing, in his living room. An appropriate conclusion of worship to the Christ child.
The next morning, my joy would only continue as I encountered the twinkle in my children’s eyes with every gift they discovered and opened, as I witnessed the shock and surprise of my wife when she received her gift from me (she never knew what was coming and was never disappointed). And then, of course, when I would open my gifts from others and received as well. Joy was fully mine. And the reason was Jesus. The reason was because I stopped long enough to remember why we celebrate Christmas in the first place. He had made the celebration what it was. And like Mary, I “treasured up all these things and pondered them in {my} heart” (Luke 2:19).
Good News for Shepherds Means Good News for Us
Shepherds are a part of most of the Nativity scenes you have likely encountered. And it seems natural that they should be there. In our minds, they represent peaceful people who add to the serenity of the narrative of Jesus’ birth. Since most of us do not own sheep or frankly know much about them, we assume their occupation was a gentle one, as we picture shepherds leading their flocks through lush green pastures fit for paintings or photographs. Psalm 23 teaches us that the Lord is our shepherd, so we automatically assume that shepherds during the time of Jesus belong with the baby by virtue of their respectful occupation.
The problem is that our thinking on this matter is incorrect. Shepherds during the time of Jesus were not respectable at all. Instead, they were known for being the exact opposite. Nobody trusted a shepherd during this period of history. They were not even called upon to testify in legal proceedings because of this perception. In fact, most shepherds would graze their flocks on lands that did not belong to them, meaning they were crooks. Surprised? Which begs the question, why then are shepherds chosen to view the Savior’s birth? Why are they given a front row seat?
I think any person who truly understands their need for grace and forgiveness knows the answer to this question. Shepherds are chosen because they represent the people this baby came for. They represent us. Shepherds represent sinners, and all of us fall into this category. “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,” Romans 3:23 tells us. That means you. That means me. James goes so far as to imply that in the sight of God, we are guilty of breaking all of God’s commandments, that if we have broken one, we have broken them all (James 2:10). And that puts us all in the “shepherd” category. We have miserably failed God. We have miserably failed others. “All our righteous acts are like filthy rags” (Isaiah 64:4).
Which means that it is good news that shepherds are chosen to go and view the baby shortly after his birth. It is good news that shepherds are chosen to hear a choir of angels singing heavenly hymns in the wee hours of the morning. I would love to have a picture of that as a painting or photograph. And let’s pay careful attention to how the shepherds respond to this good news. They go to Bethlehem. They see the child who would be their Savior and ours. They view him with their own eyes. And then, they go and tell everyone they possibly can about it. “They spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child” (Luke 2:17).
Why? Because the likelihood is that these shepherds have given up on God and religion. They are not worthy of the temple or a synagogue. They are not expecting to be included in any aspect of the religion in their day. And yet, they, untrustworthy, lying, despised, and sinful shepherds get to see the child who would one day die for their sins and ours. They are the first recipients of grace. They are the first examples of the life change this child would come to bring. They are a blueprint of how the gospel is designed to work in our lives.
“Amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see.” These words were written by John Newton, a shepherd in his own right, guilty of some of the most shameful and despicable sins imaginable, the trading of slaves. He was the captain of one of these ships, until he was radically changed by the grace of God, until God reached down to him with the same love shown to the shepherds. Towards the end of his life, Newton is quoted as saying, “although my memory is fading, I remember two things very clearly; I am a great sinner and Christ is a great Savior.” I think the shepherds would agree. In fact, I am eternally grateful they are chosen to be the first guests at the stable.
Why Christmas Was Special as a Pastor
When I was a pastor, I always enjoyed the Christmas season. I did not necessarily look forward to the busyness and increased demands the holidays can bring to us all. Instead, I relished the opportunity to focus for an entire month on the incarnation, on who the baby born in Bethlehem really was. “Immanuel” is a word that means “God with us,” a name that describes the child’s fully divine and fully human nature. Jesus was God entering into our world, the Creator becoming his creation. There is no other time of year when we are given the privilege of reflecting on this miracle, no other time when there is an extended focus on what it means for our faith.
I loved dissecting the Christmas narratives in Matthew and Luke. The appearance of angels. Mary, discovering she is with child as a virgin. Joseph, risking his reputation to stay with her and serve as the earthly father of the Messiah. Characters like shepherds being chosen to go and view the newborn baby. Gentile gazers of the heavens becoming intrigued by a star and following it until they find the Savior of the world. I could detect all kinds of themes and lessons to preach on from these accounts. The spiritual applications seemed to be endless. The song of the gospel was bright and sung beautifully through their pages.
I also enjoyed Advent. It was always touching to have different families in the church come forward and light a candle each week. Sometimes finding volunteers to do this was difficult, as few people desire to light a candle in front of the entire church with one of those infamous red lighters that may or may not work. Still, I was able to convince many that their participation would be a blessing to the congregation. And I was always right. I especially enjoyed when larger multi-generational families would do so. Each family member was in a different stage of life, yet each shared the same faith in the child whose birth Christmas celebrates.
We would typically focus on one Advent theme per week, the theme being represented by the candle that was lit. The order can vary, depending on tradition, but I normally chose the themes of hope, peace, joy, and love. It should also be noted that Advent is a season of waiting, of spiritual preparation for the celebration of Jesus’ birth. Many times, I would begin the season by preaching on a text highlighting John the Baptist and his role of preparing people for the coming Messiah. As the weeks went on, the anticipation would become greater, culminating in the lighting of the final Christ candle at the Christmas Eve service. The emotions on that night were like none other I have experienced in my over 20 years as a pastor. The joy and excitement were electric and contagious.
Still, I knew the holidays were a very difficult season for so many. Grief can especially be prevalent during these several weeks. It’s a season that many do not look forward to. That is why I would emphasize the need to connect with other believers and worship together with them as a means of encouragement and support. Those who did so were usually glad they had. The heaviness of their sadness became somewhat lighter because of the body of Christ. They were reminded of his ever-present and caring nature.
Looking back, it was difficult pulling it all off. The church parties. The worship services. The stress of making sure that every Nativity “i” was properly dotted, and every Christmas “t” was sufficiently crossed. Most years, I took a deep breath when the Christmas Eve service was over, and I could finally get some rest. Yet, every year I seemed to come away with a deeper appreciation for the child’s birth and identity. I could affirm with the writer, John, that “grace and truth” had come “through Jesus Christ.” I felt as if I had been just as present as Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, and wise men, that I had been privileged to sing heavenly hymns with a celestial chorus of angels. An extended focus on the miracle of the incarnation had made my life better, richer. It had strengthened my faith. Might it do the same for you this Advent season?
Where is God When it Hurts?
“Where is God When it Hurts?” That’s the title of a book by Christian author, Phillip Yancey. I must confess that Yancey is one of my favorite authors. It has been many years since I read the book, but I do know that Yancey’s treatment of the question is both fair and Biblical. Fair to the person going through pain, be it emotional or physical, and fair to the God of the Bible, who promises followers of Jesus Christ an eternal world that is “pain free.” Eternity. Heaven. However, we are not there yet. And this is “painfully” true to so many who consider themselves to be committed disciples of Jesus. Their worlds are filled with pain. They regularly experience the “trouble” Jesus promised would be a part of this world.
I have learned this through serving as a hospice chaplain for nearly fifteen months. My regular job was meeting people at their places of pain, of great pain. The patient was struggling with physical pain, fear of death, uncertainty of when it would occur. The family members were experiencing immense grief as they did not want to let go of their loved ones. I offered no real answers for the many “why” questions they asked. Instead, I offered them reassurance of God’s love and presence, as I reminded them that he was moved by their pain and was ever-present.
In fact, the last sentence I wrote is the answer to the question I opened this devotional with, the question, “Where is God When it Hurts?” He is closer than we can ever imagine. He is more concerned than we realize. He is moved beyond words. He cares. Did you read that last sentence? He cares. He cares about the effects of disease on our bodies and the resulting pain we experience. He cares about the insecurity we feel. He cares about the injustice we may have been victims of. He cares about how hard it is for us to forgive those who have hurt us. He cares about the tears we have shed and the brokenness we feel. We serve a God who cares. How do we know?
The cross is how we know. Jesus was fully God and fully man. Mysterious. Hard to explain. Yet, what it means is that God knows and understands human pain in every way imaginable. Jesus was dying for our sins, there can be no doubt. His sacrifice has secured our pardon. However, he was also identifying with every form of pain that can be thrown at human beings in this world. Death by crucifixion is physically painful enough, but Jesus was mocked and ridiculed as he died, adding to his physical pain a cruel emotional type of pain. And he dealt with it alone, by himself.
The words sympathy and empathy have similar meanings, but they differ in one critical respect. Sympathy is compassion. Yet, empathy takes it a step further. It is compassion we experience because we have been there before. Empathy is compassion that has become personal because we have experienced the same pain. And that’s how we know God is present in our pain. Because he has been there before, in and through Jesus, in ways we cannot imagine. He has been there, but it doesn’t stop there. He enters our pain through his Spirit, and he prays for us. “We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with wordless groans” (Romans 8:26). “Wordless groans” come from deep pain. Deep pain God experiences with us.
One of the most important ways we can minister to followers of Jesus who are experiencing great pain is to remind them of God’s presence, to be physical reminders of our God who cares. And trust me, this can make all the difference in the world. God will use us to touch people in ways that are beyond our ability to understand. Who do you know who is hurting today? Might you serve as a reminder of God’s presence to them? Might you be God’s instrument of comfort through your presence?
Judging Those June Apples
As I travel for work in north Georgia, I drive through some of the most beautiful counties. Rolling hills, fall leaves, clear skies, and breathtaking scenery are some of the things I take in as I drive to work.
Sometimes I also pass by several apple farms. North Georgia is known for its abundance of apples, and in the fall people will drive up here to experience the apple picking, apple farms, homemade cider and other goodies.
You can see the beautiful red apples on the trees on October. It’s funny, but when you drive past the same trees in June, the apples are green or are not even visible.
It reminds me of an old saying I’ve loved through the years:
“Don’t judge October’s apples in June!”
The green apple in June is still developing and may be bitter. It hasn’t ripened into the sturdy, juicy and sweet apple it will be in the fall. You’ve got to give it time.
The apples teach us a great lesson.
Sometimes a story, situation or person looks hopeless at the moment, and we can’t begin to imagine what God is doing in the midst of them.
Since we can’t fathom what God might be doing, we write off a story, situation, or person as “done” or “hopeless.”
But be careful here.
The more I thought about that quote, the more I realized how many stories in the Bible teach this very lesson.
When Mary and Martha lost their brother Lazarus, it truly was an impossible situation. After three days, Jesus shows up and does the impossible, raising Lazarus back to life. God specializes in impossible situations.
What about the murderer Saul? Many people judged him for the murders he had committed and then discarded him. Little did they know he was going to be God’s instrument to send the gospel to the Gentiles and write three-fourths of the New Testament. It actually took an encourager named Barnabas to go back and restore Paul (Saul). Never discard a person. You never know what God is doing in their life.
When Joesph was sold into slavery by his brothers, he probably imagined that was the end of his story as he sat hopeless in a dark well. Little did he know God was working to restore him and save the nation of Israel. Don’t judge a situation by only what you can see, you never know how God will change it.
You never know what God is up to! God doesn’t need our opinions, votes, or beliefs over situations he’s just getting started on! Sometimes it’s best to refrain and stay still and quiet until you can see the hand of God in a situation. You and I never have the final say, only God does!
And never judge an October apple in June!
The Sweetest Sound
The past few weeks have been beautiful with the fall leaves in all their glory. Although the weather has changed and most of the leaves have fallen, I still enjoy driving through the countryside taking it all in. So many beautiful scenes of rolling hills, pastures, livestock, and quaint country churches. I saw a sign last week in front of a small country church.
It read:
“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound.”
I read the sign and said the words out loud. “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound.”
“How sweet the sound. The sound?”
Wait. Grace has a sound? And it’s sweet?
I have sung this song for years but have never thought about the fact that we say Grace has a sound.
It begs me to ask the question, what does Grace sound like? I think Grace sounds beautiful if we think about it.
It’s like saying freedom has a sound. Or grief has a sound. Or hope has a sound. I prayed “Lord, show me what Grace sounds like!” A few things came to mind this week.
Grace sounds like a newborn’s first cry, or an elderly parent’s last breath.
Grace sounds like rain falling to the earth, where the ground gets renewed and hearts do too.
Grace sounds like leaves falling to the ground, reminding us it’s ok to let go.
Grace sounds like “I’m sorry.” “Please forgive me.” Or “You are forgiven.”
Grace sounds like the voice of a friend calling you to check in on you.
Grace sounds like laughter on the inside of your home, right before you open the door after a long day, and you can hear happiness.
Grace sounds like “You are welcome here and wanted.”
Grace sounds like “goodnight” so we can let the day go. Or “good morning” so we can try one more time.
Grace sounds like new fallen snow, reminding us that quietness and peace give us strength.
Grace sounds like a grandmother’s prayer, prayed over you many years ago, but still taking effect in your life.
Grace sounds like the whispers of the Holy Spirit, through his Word, his creation, and in worship.
Grace sounds like the Savior gently saying “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).
This week, tune out the noise and chaos of the world, and listen for the sweet sounds of Grace in your life.
What does Grace sound like to you?
“Do Not Fear”
I have heard it said that if you counted how many times the phrase “do not fear” appears in the Bible, it would add up to 366. That’s one “do not fear” for every day of the year plus one. Which means that leap year is covered. I have no idea if this is true. I haven’t blocked out several hours to attempt to count the phrase in Scripture, but I do believe we should pay attention to the fact that it is there so often. It serves as evidence of the fact that human beings tend to fall prey to fear, in many cases paralyzing fear. The weaker a person feels, the more vulnerable the situation, the more that fear tends to display its ugly head. When it does, a person can feel emotionally frozen, unable to progress. Fear seems to bring out the worst in us. It can be the biggest hindrance to our spiritual development and maturity.
And yet, the Bible seems to equally mention the need to “fear God.” I haven’t counted how many times this phrase is present either, but I know it’s there a lot. We are to walk in the fear of the Lord. Those who fear him are blessed, while those who do not fear him will one day wish they had. That’s what you read so often in the Bible. We cannot deny this. So, on the one hand, the Bible says, “do not fear.” On the other, it says that we should, that we should “fear God.” How does one make sense of this? Why does God want us not to fear, while at the same time commanding that we fear him?
There really is no discrepancy here. No issue at all. And it’s because the word “fear” means two very different things, that there are two very different contexts at hand. When the admonition to “fear God” is given, it’s a command to “respect” God, just as we would respect our earthly father, or an authority figure. My father is a tall man, 6 foot 3 to be exact, so when we were younger children, we knew he was worthy of our respect. He was strong. He was capable of much with this strength, and we respected that, we “feared” that. Yet, at the same time, we knew he loved us. The older we got, the more we understood how great this love was. We then understood that respecting him was a way of showing love to him in return.
One of my favorite set of verses regarding fear is found in 1 John 4:18-20: “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.” I think it is critical to understand that our relationship with Christ must contain confidence, in other words, that God desires that we trust in his love for us. When we trust in this love, a love that has shown us great grace, we realize there is nothing in our lives we must hide from him, and therefore nothing we should fear. That’s why when we sin, which is every day, we are given the command to approach “the throne of grace” with confidence, or to “come boldly to the throne of grace” (Hebrews 4:16). We do so, knowing that there is great grace waiting for us because there is great love. Consequences for sin, in many cases, yes, but grace that is ultimately and eternally greater than all our sin, our sin which died a death with Jesus on the cross.
So, let’s return to the “fear not’s” in the Bible. Why are they there? What does their presence suggest about how we should relate to fear in our lives? What do they tell us God wants us to do with unhealthy fear? I think the answer is obvious. He desires that we overcome any fear that acts as a hindrance to his perfect will for our lives, any fear. Fear of people. Fear of failure. Fear of death. Fear of shame. Fear of harm. Fear of not being safe. The list could go on. Fear will prevent us from being the person he has called us to be in him. It will keep us from doing what he ultimately desires for us to do. As the popular song suggests, “fear, he is a liar,” the most used weapon of the enemy of God who Jesus calls “the father of lies.” With the help of Jesus, God wants us to face our fears, to overcome them, to expose them for what they really are. He desires to take their power away so that we might walk in in the freedom, grace, and authority that belong to all children of Christ. “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and of a sound mind” (2 Timothy 1:7). Is fear hindering you today? Why not fear (respect) God instead? Why not choose to face your fear, to overcome it with his strength?
What Are You Thinking?
I am a thinker. Perhaps you can identify. If you have ever taken the Myers-Briggs personality test, you know that one of the categories is thinker/feeler. I score high on thinking. Which means that this is what I am constantly doing. It is like my brain is in overdrive. Even when I sleep, my brain is working nonstop, processing the day’s thoughts through dreams I experience.
Being a thinker is both a blessing and a curse. It is a blessing in the sense that it enables me to write devotions like this one. It has been what God has used to write twenty plus years of sermons. It can be a great instrument for the kingdom of God. It can be a curse when I don’t have much to do, or when I am struggling to understand what God desires for my life. It can be a great hindrance when I am recovering from hurt and am trying to process my way through it. Sometimes, many times, the enemy who came to “steal, kill, and destroy,” uses my thinking against me, and he attempts to paint me in a “thinking” corner. Can you relate?
Probably most people can, even those who are feelers. We all have brains; therefore, we all think. The good news is that God knows this. Thinking is a huge part of what it means to be created in the image of God. Animals do not think like humans. Their thinking is more of a stimulus/response type of thinking. They are instinctual. On the other hand, human beings can reflect on their life experiences, and can reflect deeply. As Descartes once wrote, “I think, therefore I am.” Another has suggested the difference between humans and animals is that humans are “aware that we are aware.” Meaning that God intentionally made us to think. And for those of us who are in Christ, he wants our thoughts to reflect his presence, his goodness, his love, and his plan, his plan for our lives and his plan for the world. He wants our thinking to be produced by faith. When it is not, we all too often find ourselves painted in mental corners of our own doing.
This is precisely why the Scriptures give us many commands on how to think. In 1 Corinthians 10:5, Paul says: “We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” In Romans 12:2 he writes: “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” One of my favorites is Philippians 4:8: “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”
What does all this mean, especially for thinkers such as me? It means that we must submit our thinking to Christ. We must allow his Spirit to be the guardian of what is processed in our minds. If we find that our thoughts are leading us away from Christ, that they are causing us to doubt his love and plan, that anxiety and despair are the result, we can be sure that this kind of thinking is not being filtered through Christ’s Spirit, that we are not allowing him to be the guardian of our minds. How do we know when our thoughts are in step with the Spirit? By measuring the product of our thinking with the fruits we know the Spirit produces. Galatians 5:22-23: “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” When I preach on this passage, I always like to point out that fear, anxiety, doubt, frustration, and anger do not make up the list.
If you are a thinker like me, you know this is not easy. In fact, it can be hard, very hard. Thinkers are constantly thinking. Our thinking is both a strength and a weakness. Yet, we must always remember that our ability to think is a precious gift from God, and that he desires to use it for his glory. The apostle Paul goes so far as to say that we have the “mind of Christ” because his Spirit lives within us (1 Corinthians 2:16). If this is true, it means that God desires to “think” through us, that his thoughts be produced in our minds, our hearts, and our behaviors. And for a thinker, this is an amazing concept, an incredible thought to consider. What kind of thoughts are you thinking today?