Category: Religious

watch out for what is better for others.”

Philippians 2:4 (Common English Bible)

     Here is a warning against the perils of self-centeredness. These few words are an invitation to creative imagination – to look at life through the windows of another. Those of one political party would do well to consider the perspective of another, the conservative follower of Christ would experience treasure in an exploration of the faith of a liberal and vice versa. The Apostle Paul calls the faith community to place aside the microscope that provide close inspection of self and learn the use of the telescope for the discovery and observation of others. In the exercise of a wider vision, new insights and discoveries of our common humanity will present themselves in the eye and heart. It is then that we begin to realize the immensely complex and varied life in which we share. Simple ideologies betray the richness of the human capacity to imagine bold experiments in how we might live together.

     Paul’s words have a particular freshness and relevance in the Christian Church today. Fellowships of Christians are separated from one another by barriers and divisions. With no windows opening out into wider fellowship, producing expanded understandings, faith can only supply a stunted spirituality. Each fellowship has a particular treasure and a peculiar defect. The strength of the one Christian Church in the world – the church catholic – is the shared treasure of each unique fellowship holding solidarity with one another. In the shared fellowship and common witness to the Lordship of Jesus each peculiar defect is walled-in and limited. The promise of such fellowship is a richly textured, full-bodied maturity in Christ.

     The wonderful preacher, J. H. Jowett once shared that no one can lift his own powers out of comparative babyhood by the strength of their own original resources. As plants are raised into strength, and symmetry, and beauty by surrounding them on every side with the fellowship of sky, cloud and nutrient-rich soil so our faith experiences strength and beauty by communion on every side with the views and perspectives that differ from our own. We are called then, suggests Jowett, to the ministry of imagination – to humility in our own understandings and openness to the reason of others.

Portion of Matthew 11:29 (Common English Bible)

     I never imagined that I would have the opportunity to travel to the Holy Land. Colleagues in ministry have spoken of how this holy pilgrimage changed their life in deeply profound ways. I accepted their words as sincere. Yet, I had no capacity to understand. Such a trip seemed out of reach for me. Now, through the gracious and generous gift of one family in this congregation, my wife, Grace, and I have returned from Israel. In the span of eight days we followed the way of our Lord along the shore of Galilee, the Mount of Beatitudes, entered the gates of Old Jerusalem and walked the Via Dolorosa – the path taken by Jesus with a cross on His back. The impact of that experience is still emerging. I anticipate it will continue to present surprises – in thought and emotion – for some time.

     There are two impressions, in particular, that have pressed against my heart from this sacred pilgrimage: the sense of memory that remains in locations known to our Lord, and the recognition that the Lord has moved on. Both bear the capacity to impress a deeper reflection upon personal discipleship; the personal quest to acquire the Lord’s thought, to carry on the Lord’s spirit, to participate in the Lord’s vision of a new world and to embody that vision in our own lives. The abundant wealth of such a robust discipleship requires attention to three words of our Lord, “Learn from Me.”

     Today, people of many different nations make the journey to Israel for just this purpose, to learn more of Jesus. Though motives for the journey may be expressed differently, all come because of a basic curiosity. And curiosity is always the pursuit of information, of deeper understanding.  They have come to learn of Jesus, to learn from Him. Someone once remarked that the secret of learning is to ask much, to remember much and to teach much. This provides a helpful pathway for our own discipleship. It is a fruitful approach to successful learning in the school of Jesus.  

     Each disciple of Jesus must devise their own curriculum to learn from Jesus. But let no one assume that they are alone in the labor of learning. Standing in a footprint of Jesus along the shore of Galilee or walking along the way of the cross may stir remembrances of our Lord and inspire the heart to know more of Him but none of us are alone in this labor to be students of Jesus. The absence of Jesus embodied in flesh in each sacred location reminds us that He has now come in spirit as a great helper in the sacred work of discipleship. That, perhaps, is one of the glories of the ministry Jesus Christ. While we seek to learn of Jesus, He is at work within us in a manner that the beauty of the Lord grows upon our vision.

Psalms 46:10 (New Revised Standard Version)

     We have difficulty with stillness. Even spiritual pilgrimages tend to be planned in a manner that maximizes every opportunity in a brief period of time. The tireless pursuit of sacred locations can result in missing the sacred One who gives meaning to the locations we gather. Rest is regarded as indolence and relaxation as waste – waste of opportunity and waste of resources. The unfortunate result is the dawn of the season of mental exhaustion that stretches a long shadow as a bitter winter. The result is the same, little evidence of life. Movement from one place to another is marked by unhealthy speed and weariness. And the peril is that we do not realize the intensity when we are in it.

     When we are in the midst of a large city we do not realize how noisy the engine that drives it has been until we withdraw to a place outside of the city. We are not conscious of the roar and haste of life until we turn aside into a place of calm and quiet. The large number of people of the city, the flurry of activity and the roar and haste of life acts upon us like an opiate; draws our whole being, mind and body, into the relentless energy of the city until we are unconscious that we are distracted. This is the mesmeric influence in which some spiritual pilgrims move. The outside activity becomes obtrusive and the inside of things – the things of the heart and soul – become dim. The danger is that we miss the One we seek; we miss God.

     Perhaps that is why God speaks so clearly here, “Be still, and know that I am God!” The garden of our soul must be cared for, as the gardens of our homes, if beauty is to be found. The beauty of God is not found in the haste to gather every sacred place. The beauty of God is found in stillness. It is a beauty that stretches in large and broad fullness, embracing our whole being. It is a beauty that fills the ancient and sacred places with new life.

      The purpose of any spiritual pilgrimage is to connect with the sacred. Yet, unless the movement and gathering and experiencing all that each sacred location has to offer is brought under the discipline of rest, stillness and reflection all that will be found is evidence of spiritual energy that once was. God’s desire is that the eyes not see only what was once present in these locations. God desires that in stillness and quiet meditation we see clearly and strongly the very presence of life in the present moment. With careful planning and considerable haste we may gather a large treasury of sacred places on our spiritual pilgrimage. But here in this text, the Psalmist calls upon the soul to contemplate the manifold glory of God. That requires that we be still.

Joy,

Luke 22: 39, 41-43 (Common English Bible)

     Recently, this has become one of my favorite passages in the entire Bible. After thirty years of doing ministry, I expected that desiring and living by the will of God would come naturally. It has not. In fact, as I approach fifty-four years of age, the struggle of my will and God’s will has become more intense. It is some consolation that Jesus experiences the same struggle here on the Mount of Olives. Such was Jesus’ struggle that He asked that the suffering He faced be taken away. I need no further proof than this request that Jesus was, in fact, fully human as we are.

     We all face individual moments of struggle. Some struggle with seeking a new way forward after a major life change such as the death of a loved one or divorce. Others struggle with inadequate financial resources. Still others struggle with poor health, estranged relationships with loved ones or any number of new disappointments that come all too regularly. To all of us, in these moments of struggle, the message of these few sentences is loud and clear: do not imagine that because life has suddenly become difficult that you have made a wrong decision, followed a poor pathway in life or arrived at the wrong place. The idea that faithful Christians always have days without struggle is simply a romantic misunderstanding of what it means to follow Jesus; following Jesus always leads to the Mount of Olives.

     It is particularly comforting to know that it isn’t unusual to experience the struggle of our will and God’s will. The Apostle Paul once cried in utter despair that, “I don’t do what I want to do. Instead, I do the thing that I hate.” (Romans 7:15) Paul knows well the common struggle of self-will and God’s will. We are routinely betrayed by forces – within and without – that cause us to make decisions contrary to our desire to follow Jesus. In these moments, we may be tempted to abandon hope; to throw in the towel and give up the struggle.

     In those moments, Jesus demonstrates an alternative to abandoning the struggle; Jesus invites us to prayer on the Mount of Olives. Jesus’ own prayer is a powerful witness to the difficulty of the struggle. Such struggle is too great to face alone. Our strength is not sufficient. In prayer, Jesus not only demonstrates His inadequacy to meet the challenge, Jesus’ prayer results in receiving uncommon strength from above. And Jesus wants us to know that if we share His struggle, we will also share in the power of God that gave Him strength. In those moments when we face a difficulty, when we struggle with what we want and what God wants for us, the Mount of Olives reminds us that the battle must be won on our knees.

John 19: 13, 14 (Common English Bible)

     Via Dolorosa means, the way of the cross. Historians and archaeologist disagree over the precise route that awful procession would have taken; the route Jesus took to the cross. What is certain is that it would become a route marked with grief. But the route to the cross began from a place known as the Stone Pavement, part of the Tower of Antonia bordering the northwest corner of the Temple complex. It is here that Jesus is tried before Pilate. It is here that Jesus is sentenced to flogging and crucifixion.

     Jesus walked the Via Dolorosa alone. The twelve men who shared in Jesus’ ministry, the twelve who shared a meal with Jesus only the night before, are not with him. What is likely is that they are hiding behind a locked door, questioning the abrupt arrest of Jesus and what that now meant for them. Specifics of their location are unavailable – only that they were not with Jesus. Perhaps they were experiencing shame, horror and disbelief. Their golden dream has now turned into a nightmare. 

     N. T. Wright, that wonderful teacher of our faith says that the absence of the disciples is important. Jesus had to walk the Via Dolorosa alone. It is a major problem in Christian devotion, suggests Wright, that when we think of the way of the cross we so often think of Jesus as the great example, with ourselves simply imitating him. Actually, central to our faith is the conviction that Jesus must do for us what we cannot. An important point of the Via Dolorosa is that Jesus must walk it alone.

     “Jesus suffers so that others need not; Jesus dies so that others may not”, observes Wright. Pilgrims who walk the Via Dolorosa today do so for many reasons. Some make the journey out of simple curiosity. Others wish to shop the endless souvenirs that are sold along the route. All jostle in the narrow streets and alleyways. But perhaps an authentic walk along the Via Dolorosa is one where we realize that here Jesus walked on our behalf, that this way of grief was an achievement, an accomplishment that could only be completed by God’s Son. This is a walk best completed in silence and reverence.

Joy,

Psalms 34:12, 13 (Common English Bible)

     It is a rhetorical question, of course. Who doesn’t want to be thoroughly alive, enjoying all the good things that life has to offer, to be lifted above the plain of mere existence? To live a large life, a life of spacious activities and with a grand purpose, captures our imaginations. This is a life of abounding energy and possesses a deep awareness of the things that blesses – both personally and those around us.

     The Psalms offer treasured insight for such a life, insight for embracing a spacious life of blessedness, of extracting the secret flavors and essences of things as we live into each day. Very specifically, we are instructed in the wisdom of many who have traveled before us; we are told to exercise wise government over our tongues. Relationships with one another rises to unimaginable heights as the tongue is disciplined and directed to build, to edify and exalt those who hear us. It is as though life receives it’s nutriment from careful and blessed speech.

     Our speech is to often destructive. Poison-soaked speech first poisons the speaker. “Every word we speak recoils upon the speaker’s heart, leaves its influence, either in grace or disfigurement,” writes that wonderful preacher, J. H. Jowett. Where the tongue is untrue, the heart is afraid of exposure. Life is diminished. One may also argue that such speech is lazy speech. Where there is no exercise of restraint or government of the tongue; it is free to roam at will. Therefore, urges the Psalms, keep your tongue from evil and speaking lies. The tongue that is held in serve restriction, the tongue that only shapes words that are good and encouraging to others results in quiet and fruitful happiness.     

     Undisciplined tongues seem to flourish today. And the world is the poorer for it. Yet, our own lives may move to a higher plain simply by a personal revolt from the disorderly conduct of tongues. The best way to affect a departure from the guile and venom that flows freely around us is to exercise one’s self in active good, of words spoken kindly, with pleasantness and grace. The fragrance of our speech will tickle the hearts of others. It may invite them to share in the same wisdom of the Psalms, an invitation to experience a blessed life, full, safe and abounding in good things.

 John 1:46 (Common English Bible)

     It was an honest question. Nazarethwas a tiny village with a population in Jesus’ day that is estimated to have been as little as 100 people. In the region of Galilee, Nazareth would be difficult to locate on a map, if it even appeared on a map. It was simply a small community of little significance; probably only ten to fifteen extended families. The birth home to Mary, Jesus’ mother, Nazareth was too small for strong employment prospects. What is more likely is that the few men who lived in Nazareth traveled to the nearby capital of Galilee, Sepphoris to work each day. Nazareth was a sleepy, bedroom community.

     So Nathanael is skeptical, “Can anything from Nazareth be good?” No ridicule was intended, only surprise. Nathanael reflected the popular opinion of the day. People that appeared on a world stage rarely came from such small villages. Nazareth is never mentioned in the Old Testament or in any available Jewish literature. The unimportance of Nazarethcreates astonishment that one of its residents could possibly be the one spoken of by the prophets.

     Philip’s response, “Come and see” is the best remedy against preconceived opinion. And opinions about anyone significant coming from Nazarethwere strong; ancestry to Nazarethis synonymous with lacking all human means of power. Perhaps that is the reason that God chose Nazarethas the birth place for the savior of the world. As New Testament scholar Dale Bruner observes, Jesus’ royal claim would be utterly incredible to all persons who do not take God into account.  

     Often today we see people who live defeated lives. Marriages that are more difficult to sustain than ever thought imaginable on the wedding day, children who seem bent on making unfortunate choices, and preparing for a worry-free retirement in a difficult economic climate all deplete us some days. It isn’t surprising the number of people who move through the day with shoulders slumped and furrows on their brow. Life is hard and resources to meet the challenges of each day seem scarce – that is if God isn’t taken into account.

     What many people miss today – even occasionally good Christians – is that we were never intended to live only by human strength and power. We are promised more strength and more power than we are personally capable of. It is the power that was available to the one from Nazareththat drew the skepticism of Nathanael. Perhaps that is why so many people today make a pilgrimage to Nazareth. Deep down they are weary. They are desperate for refueling; for fresh energy for the living of these days.

     If you make the pilgrimage to Nazareth, go humbly, get down underneath the noise of the large town it is today and wait on God in the silence of your hearts. There is no telling what you may hear or what you will discover. But the heart that is attentive to God will recognize that following Jesus has little to do with geography. Jesus has left Nazareth. In prayer, Jesus may be met personally right where you are now. And His power is ready to change you.

Joy,

Isaiah 28:20 (Common English Bible)

     A bed that is too short and a blanket that is too narrow are inadequate for restful, healthy sleep. Both may serve us well as temporary arrangements when nothing else is available. But in the long-term, either we find an adequate bed along with a sufficient blanket or we suffer; we will suffer general discomfort in our rest, experience aches and pains of every sort and possibly move through the day with sleep-deprivation. Adequate rest requires adequate accommodation.

     Just as a short bed fails to provide for a growing body and a narrow blanket leaves people shivering in the cold so does a short and narrow faith leave us morally stunted and shivering with every kind of fear. God desires that we have a bed of faith on which to stretch a full human life and be warmly wrapped in the mantle of confidence in the living power of the risen Christ. When we hear of those who are short on integrity and frightened of every uncertainty it is reasonable to ask the nature of the faith that is sustaining them.

     Many who self-identify as Christians today live in the danger of believing too little. They are very uncomfortable on the beds of their faith. Ignoring the inevitable growing pains of faith, such people do little to nourish personal spiritual growth. They seek to make do with the cradle of faith provided them by others. The untroubled sleep of their early years now demands more – a larger bed of faith and a wider blanket of confidence in God. The faith question presses, will they pursue a faith-growth plan that furnishes them with the largest and broadest and strongest thoughts of God that will sustain them as adults or will they continually seek to squeeze back into the crib in which they were so happy in childhood?

     Perhaps there is nothing more pathetic than to see a Christian, who ought to be flexing an adult’s faith in the challenges of life, content with a mere child’s share of understanding of God. Instead of stretching onto an adult sized faith they tuck themselves into a cradle. Each morning they get up from it lame and aching. Worse, they are chilled by every blast of unbelief and uncertainty that blows.

Joy,         

“We are called to be an honor to God’s glory because we were the first to hope in Christ.” 
Ephesians 1:12 (Common English Bible)

     Some years ago, there was a delightful Hallmark Card commercial that portrayed two adult sisters in a Hallmark Card store. They caught each other in some gesture and looked at one another in surprise and exclaimed, “We’ve become our mother!” Perhaps more than any of us may want, we do bear the likeness or image of our parents, both physically and in our manner. As someone once said to me when I was quite young, “There is no question whose son you are. I bet you make your daddy proud everyday.” I had never thought of that before; do I, in fact, make my father proud? 

     This one sentence from the Apostle Paul to the church in Ephesus speaks to God’s intention for His people – that they live in a manner that brings honor to God. This can be daunting. Any honest self-evaluation of our lives reveals that a radical transformation is required before anyone sees anything of God’s glory in us. Perhaps the word “daunting” is an understatement. Do any of us have the capacity to live in a manner that brings honor to God’s Name?

     I believe not. The chasm between the glory and holiness of God and the day to day behavior of our lives is simply too great. Our experience is more like that of the prophet Isaiah when, in the sixth chapter of his book, he comes into the presence of God and realizes just how far removed from God his life is, “Mourn for me; I’m ruined!” Now that is honesty! What are we to do?

     Fortunately there is more packed into this one sentence than God’s expectation of us; there is God’s promise of help. Our hope to ever bring honor to God is not in our strength or ability. It is in Christ. The radical reorientation that is required comes from Christ, from fixing our eyes on Christ. Think of it this way. Not one of us has the capacity to transform a seed into anything more. We know from our own experience of nature that a single seed has within it the potential to become more; to become a beautiful flower, a stately shrub or a towering tree. But all we can do is place it deep within rich, moist soil. After that another power takes over. It is the same with our lives. Plant ourselves deep into the person of Jesus Christ and a power not our own works a spiritual change within us. Our transformation into the likeness of God is not our work; it is Christ’s work.

     From my perspective, “in Christ” far outstrips the title “Christian.” The latter allows for ambiguous interpretation; allows for the possibility of little more than a weak affinity or relationship with Christ. But “in Christ” is far more dynamic. It speaks of taking up residence in the person of Christ in such a way that His life becomes ours. It is then that others will notice, without any doubt, that we bear a distinct resemblance to a great and holy God.

Joy,

 Ephesians 4:12, 13. (Common English Bible)

     One crisis facing the church today is the crisis of pastoral identity. Congregations frequently have unrealistic expectations of their pastors. When the pastor attempts to meet each expectation, exhaustion and discouragement frequently follows. Yet, the greatest harm to pastors is often self-inflicted. Many pastors – wrestling with pastoral identity – attempt to make themselves essential to every project, activity and committee of the church. The difficulty is not only the inevitable exhaustion of the pastor but the church is harmed as well. The church can never do more than the pastor can stretch herself or himself to do. Christ’s goal, so eloquently stated here in Ephesians, is that pastors would prepare others for ministry by equipping every person to do his or her part. Perhaps the most important work of the pastor is to become nonessential for the work of the church.

     Naturally, this will require the careful management of congregational expectations of the pastor. As a pastor seeks to entrust leadership of the church to wise volunteers and restrict their own personal involvement, some church members will claim that the pastor simply doesn’t care. This arises not only from a poor grasp of scripture and bad theology; it flows from a cultural expectation that the pastor be seen and active in every aspect of the church. This is reflective of our North American way of life – particularly the culture of affluent communities in the United States. Simply, the culture I speak of is one of “being served rather than serving.” Many affluent homes today have lawn service, house cleaning services, professional nannies to care for children and even dog-walking services. If there is something to be done or a responsibility to be carried out, someone is paid to do it. That culture has seeped into the life of the church. Increasingly I hear of churches that have had to “hire” Sunday school teachers for the children of the church. Rather that modeling the ministry of Jesus Christ “in service” to the surrounding culture the church has conformed to the patterns of this world.

     Greg Ogden, a friend and leading voice in the renewal of the church has written that nothing less than a new reformation must take place in the church. The old reformation – what is popularly called the Protestant Reformation –  was one that gave the Bible back to the people of God. The church prior to that reformation did not encourage personal reading of the Bible. The Bible was largely accessible only through it’s reading by the clergy on Sunday morning. The new reformation that Ogden speaks of is giving the ministry of the church back to the people. It is reclaiming this passage from Ephesians and multiple others readings from the Bible that clearly assert that the ministry of the people must be by the people, not just paid church professionals.

     The practical value of shared ministry is that more can be accomplished by the many than by a few church professionals. The impact of the church upon the local community is increased and more lives are touched by Christ and the redemptive good news of the Gospel. But God’s call to each church member to ministry has a deeper, richer goal than accomplishing more ministries. Here in Ephesians we discover that God’s blueprint for our own growth in spiritual maturity is participating in the work of the church. The pastor that does everything may appear to be high-minded. But the trouble is that it denies followers of Jesus Christ the growth that God desires.

Joy,