As I write this today, I am sitting outside enjoying the afternoon breeze. The sun is shining, the grass is green, and the gentleman no more than 15 feet away from me puffs nervously on his cigarette. His vice is one that I can not rightly pass judgement on because I imagine people look at me the same way when I am at my prime at a local all-you-can-eat Asian food establishment. I have learned to understand that whatever we consider an idol involves an attitude of sin. Sin that separates us from God. Regardless, I am still enjoying the beautiful flowers. They are perfect. Jesus talks about sinners in scripture. Many times in fact. He doesn’t condone it. Quite the opposite actually. Often when He approaches those in sin Jesus takes it much more seriously than I do. In the “Parable of the Sower” He compares those living in sin as figurative weeds in a garden or a pasture. Jesus says that God will not remove the “weeds” because this would have negative consequences for the “good plants”. So, when reading that throughout my life, I have always been on alert. “Weeds (sinners) are all around me…I need to be on guard”, I have always thought. For a long time, I developed an attitude of defense when it came to these dangerous sinners. The idea was that I should not get too close or the evil darkness of their hearts will infect my pure, innocent soul. I thought this until my brother taught me a little about landscaping. My interpretation expanded a bit. He taught me something he did not intend to be spiritual, but now guides my ministry thought process. It also gave me deep insight on the parable mentioned above. My brother owns a small farm and understanding the needs of the land is a massive passion of his. He raises chickens, grows vegetables, and takes pleasure in God’s creation. Every time I visit the farm, we walk together and talk about things like ministry, work, and parenting. A few weeks ago, I presented him with a question I had been saving up for a few weeks. The question had to do with how to get rid of the ugly weeds in my front yard. So, I asked. The answer somewhat surprised me. “Don’t be mad at the weeds”, he said. “The presence of weeds simply tells you what the greatest need is.” I stared at him with a puzzling look. He knew I didn’t understand so he expounded. “When you have weeds in your yard, many times it means there is some nutrient that is lacking…the weeds tell you your needs.” He went on to describe scenerios pertaining to more and less nitrogen, chemical balance, and other things that brought about certain families of pesky flora. I learned more than I cared to know in that instance. At the time, I really didn’t want a long explanation…I just wanted to get rid of them. I wanted to avoid them. When we read the “Parable of the Sower” in scripture and we begin to think of “weeds equal bad” and “no weeds equal good” I think we miss the point. The presence of weeds tell us the needs. So, we can think of it this way…God calls us to look at the sinners around us through His eyes. These are people with needs. Not just stubborn folks with no moral compass and lacking in wisdom. The need is food. The need is relationships. The need is healing and hope. The need is Jesus. How can we really judge, when God is trying to open our eyes to the great need? Pray for God’s eyes today. Let’s attack sin. This post was written by Rev DeCrastos. You can find his blog here: http://other-words.net Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it—Genesis 28:16 We men have a remarkable ability to compartmentalize—to believe in different realities, depending on the day of the week. We’re able to accept God’s presence, his relevance to our lives, on Sundays. The rest of the week, though—when we’re at work, for example—we often go about our days as if he isn’t there, as if his truth has no bearing on us Monday-thru-Saturday. This is nonsense, of course, that the God of the Universe, the very creator of Monday-thru-Saturday, isn’t there, has no relevance, on those days. “‘Can a man hide himself in secret places so that I cannot see him?’ declares the Lord. ‘Do I not fill heaven and earth?’ declares the Lord” (Jeremiah 23:24). I think it just feels right, at first—we get some stuff done on our own, we get ahead a bit, get some credit. Over time, though, we all face the truth that we can never find true meaning, true significance apart from God. And the longer we bend ourselves toward trying to live out this falsehood, the more purposeless and hollowed-out our Mondays-thru-Saturdays become. But . . . if we decide to look for him, where we are, where we spend the most important moments of our lives, we can begin to reclaim meaning and significance. We can begin to discover why he has us in those times and places, and what he intends for us there. And they too can become Holy ground. Okay, so what do we do? Begin opening your mind to the fact that God is present with you, right now . . . this day, this week. Ask him to show himself to you—outside of church, in your work, your home. Begin turning your mind to him, focusing your gaze upon him, especially in times and places where, in the past, you have not. This post was written by Justin Camp of Gaither Ministries. You can find more information at www.GaitherMinistries.com After all, no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it, just as Christ does the church—for we are members of his body. Ephesians 5:29-30 Early in their marriage, Kate discovered her husband, Jim, had a pornography addiction. She confronted him about it; they prayed; and he promised to change. For several months, Jim seemed to be doing just that by throwing himself into his ministry position. Their marriage returned to normal. But the façade soon collapsed. Kate began suspecting something when she discovered Jim had been to a questionable restaurant several times with some of the other members of the church staff. She searched his computer and found hundreds of porn sites in the browser history. She also came across personal items belonging to another woman in his car. When confronted, Jim begged for forgiveness. Kate moved out but agreed to counseling—if Jim would be serious this time. But he wasn’t. He was late when he did show up for the counseling sessions. Mostly, he just didn’t come. Kate filed for divorce—and picked up a label. Many members of the church where Jim worked couldn’t believe he would do anything. So, they blamed the divorce on Kate. They knew she had her eye on someone else for months. They knew why she really wanted a divorce. And that label went with Kate. Thanks to the power of the Internet, the certainty of Kate’s actions spread to other friends and family members. Jim, for his part, did nothing to dissuade the rumors, and Kate refused to slander Jim to the church—even if he’d hurt her, even if it meant wearing the label. Kate eventually moved back to her hometown, but even there, enough people knew her past to keep the stories and “certainties” churning. They knew who she was and what she’d done. Jim stepped down from the church staff, ostensibly because of the turmoil, but picked up his own label: poor, discarded husband. Years later, Kate still wears her label. She remarried, but for many people, she’s still the woman who ran out on her husband, who didn’t fight hard enough, who really had ulterior motives for leaving him. Even after Jim left ministry and church altogether, the reason behind his apostasy fell at her feet. She’d been labeled, and that was enough. Church can be a scary place because the process of living life together is messy. Husbands and wives cheat. Doubts bubble up. Irrational fears overcome. We’re joined together at our most vulnerable point: trust. We’re all tempted to categorize events and people, especially when something goes wrong. Categorizing makes it all seem safer, so different from us. But the purpose of the church isn’t just for when things are going well; it’s for when things mess up. Once we categorize and label, we’ve made things seem tidier in our heads, but that tidiness rarely exists in real life. For Kate, healing took years—all because those she trusted fit her neatly into the box where they wanted her to be. And for Jim, labeling meant he never dealt with his sin. This post was written by John UpChurch of crosswalk.com God is a god of abundance, not a god of scarcity. Jesus reveals to us God's abundance when he offers so much bread to the people that there are twelve large baskets with leftover scraps (see John 6:5-15), and when he makes his disciples catch so many fish that their boat nearly sinks (Luke 5:1-7). God doesn't give us just enough. God gives us more than enough: more bread and fish than we can eat, more love than we dared to ask for. God is a generous giver, but we can only see and enjoy God's generosity when we love God with all of our hearts, minds, and strength. As long as we say, "I will love you, God, but first show me your generosity," we will remain distant from God and unable to experience what God truly wants to give us, which is life and life in abundance. For further reflection: "You visit the earth and water it, you greatly enrich it; the river of God is full of water; you provide the people with grain, for so you have prepared it. You water its furrows abundantly, settling its ridges, softening it with showers, and blessing its growth. You crown the year with your bounty; your wagon tracks overflow with richness. The pastures of the wilderness overflow, the hills gird themselves with joy, the meadows clothe themselves with flocks, the valleys deck themselves with grain, they shout and sing together for joy." - Psalm 65: 9-13 (NRSV) This post was written by Henri Nouwen. You can find his blog at: http://www.henrinouwen.org The struggle is real. A 4-year-old boy in a department store. If you are a parent today, and have raised a son to this level of maturity you could write the story yourself. The fact is, there are times in life in which a normal human being must go to a store of their choice and buy things such as clothes for oneself or gift items for another. This is a pretty mundane occurence. The difficulty comes when this individual, and his wife have created another human being in the relatively recent past and this miniature human seems to think this store is a neutral zone in which the house rules no longer apply. The end result is discipline…justice. It can be frustrating when interacting with a child and trying to embed in his heart and mind the concept of obedience. Our son is a runner. When he is placed in a situation in which him and his sister outnumber the adult supervision, he makes it a point to make whatever adult is in attendance work for their accolades. At the end of the experience we find a parent who just can’t seem to keep their sanity. When in a store with a short amount of time to finish errands, my son will make the decision to play tag at the most inconvenient times. This causes an obvious safety problem. Deep within us is the fear that someone will snatch him up when he is out of view. This concept has been conveyed to him regularly, and it will stick for a period of time. The Israelites in the Old Testament behaved in the same way. God sent prophet after prophet to keep them pointed in the right direction. He gave them moral and social law, not to burden them, but to make their lives run more efficiently. He gave them spirit-filled leaders, who were not perfect, but were put into place to lead by example. God’s people would obey and live in holy abundance, but when things became more difficult, they would fall away into a more convenient pattern of life. The creator of the universe desired to show His children love through provision, miracles, and mercy. These people had such trouble staying in an attitude of obedience. There is a problem with obedience. It is unnatural. In the depths of who we are, we have a constant impulse to follow our own way. There is something temporarily satisfying about creating our own solutions to the problems and hardships of life. It feels good to be in control…especially when things go somewhat well. Obedience takes us out of our element and puts our future in God’s hands. It makes us admit that our abilities do not measure up. The Israelites found out time after time that God’s way is right, and the guidance He gave was not oppressive but meant to make their life run in the way in which it was created. Why, then, do we reject God’s way time after time? I think, because, we have to admit our own weakness. How many times have you reflected on your life and realized it didn’t go as planned? Of these instances, how many times did you realize you followed what felt right instead of what was right? The enemy of our souls wants us to follow our impulses. When we give our heart and life to God, our impulses become missional and our desires become His. Don’t reject obedience. Pray for His wisdom. This post was written by Rev DeCrastos. You can find his blog at: http://other-words.net I have zero home improvement skills (or home repair skills for that matter). So last month, when my wife asked me to install a new closet system in my oldest daughter’s bedroom, I balked. I was tired. I was grumpy. And when it comes to projects like this, I always seem to screw things up. This effort did not disappoint. After an hour of missing studs with the anchor screws and hanging half-cocked support beams, I threw my worthless drill on the floor, expressed my disdain for all power tools (and at that moment life itself), mumbled a few unmentionables under my breath, and went to bed. Once again, I’d screwed it up. I have a propensity for screwing up this Christianity thing, too. There are two (overly-simplified) ways I tend to do this, and they both start with how I view God’s character and nature. In my experience, when I make these common mistakes, I basically screw up everything else in my life, too. Climbing Up To God In this approach, I get ahold of God’s installation manual and think to myself, “sure, I can do this.” Then I grab my amateur tool belt and have it. Sure, the shelves are a bit crooked and a few wrongly placed pilot holes have to be hidden back in the dark corner, but who will notice? And so I dumb down God’s standards into a pile of achievable goals and set out to (somewhat) fulfill them with my own manufactured morality. The problem with moralism is that it doesn’t work. The actual standard is way too high (and God goes and starts hinting around that it’s not just what we do on the outside but why we do it on the inside that actually counts). So we either quietly acknowledge our failure and live beneath a constant weight of guilt and shame, or we arrogantly assume our efforts are at least “better than that guy’s” and settle into a smug (and detestable) air of self-righteousness. Climbing up to God always screws up everything. Reducing God To Me To counterbalance this tendency, I instinctively flip the script. I’ve heard about this concept called grace. It sounds pretty awesome, especially since it means I can just throw away God’s instructions completely (right?). God is love, after all. And so I seek internal peace by flipping my pencil to the eraser side and eliminating the stress and pressure of God’s holiness altogether. Humanity has evolved. We understand things better now. Those self-righteous moralists have held us all hostage for far too long anyway. The problem with enlightenment is that it doesn’t work. Grace isn’t about removing the standard. And yet we live in a false sense of self-made peace and arrogantly look down on anyone who might not tolerate our way of putting life together. Reducing God to my level always screws up everything. The Gospel Changes Everything The only way to fix our swaying pendulum of screw ups is through the message of the Gospel. I like to summarize the Gospel this way: The Law Crushes: The demands of a holy God are intended to destroy us. We can’t fulfill them on our own, and we can’t erase them if we try. Let it do its job. The Gospel Resurrects: God sent His Son to live the life we couldn’t live, and die the death we should’ve died. His perfection is given to us by proxy. Our rescue comes from the work of another. This is grace. The Spirit Empowers: Our ongoing and humble trust in the finished work of Christ comes with the promise of His Spirit. This gift is what changes us and gives us the power to live lives that are pleasing to God. Not our efforts for Him, but His work in us. Moralism screws up everything. Enlightenment screws up everything. The Gospel changes everything. If you’re looking for true peace, maybe it’s time to put down your tool belt and surrender to Someone with the power to actually deliver on its promise. This post was written by Rev Erik Cooper. You can find his blog here: http://beyondtherisk.com/2015/04/29/the-two-main-ways-we-screw-up-basically-everything/ O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water. Psalm 63:1 When a young child is separated from her parents, she will protest their absence. She will experience sadness, anxiety, anger and a longing for her parents to return. These intense emotions are not a sign of her failure as a child. Her protest is a clear sign of how important her parents are to her, of how much she misses them, of how much she loves them. At certain developmental stages, it is a sign of emotional health for a child to protest separation. At certain ages a healthy child will protest, will be angry, will be afraid, and will long for the parents return. If one or both of our parents was in some way absent from our lives during our formative years, it will be easy for us to imagine that God will leave us as well. We may experience silence and distance. And we may find ourselves longing for God. Just as it is good for a child to protest the absence of a parent, it is good for us to protest when we subjectively experience God's absence. It is good to give voice to our longing for God. It is good to write or pray or talk about our deep need for God's presence and love. We can call out to God. We can protest God's absence. O God, do not be silent. Do not be distant. I miss you when you seem so far away. I long for you to be close. I long to know that you care about me. I long for you, God. Nothing can replace you. No one can be God but you. Do not be silent. Do not be distant. Come. Speak. I need you. Amen. Copyright Dale and Juanita Ryan National Association for Christian Recovery Dale Ryan is an Associate Professor of Recovery Ministry at Fuller Theological Seminary. Juanita Ryan is a therapist in private practice. You can read Juanita's blog at Graceful Growth My fingers tap to the beat of a popular pop melody being played on the radio. The soft, rhythmic finger drumming is a socially exceptable form of what I wish to do, and that is stand up and shout the words at the top of my lungs. This is not because I want everyone to hear my beautiful singing voice, but so I can finally vanquish this parasitic tune from my brain. Tapping will have to do, and I notice that the chair I am sitting at in the doctor’s waiting room has distinct pitches and allow the full band in my mind to play on until the end. I hate waiting. I think that this feeling is universal. Waiting is something that is fairly easy at first. In the depths of each of our own souls, each one of us has set a certain limit to how much waiting is acceptable depending on the circumstance. We wouldn’t expect the closing of a newly bought home to take only 5 minutes after the offer is placed, but if we are 7 minutes delayed in the expected enjoyment of a fast food cheeseburger then we must notify management of our dreadful plight. Let’s look at the first disciples. It would have seemed as if they invented the idea of waiting. First, Jesus died. Then, they had to wait 3 days to see Him again in full glory. What happens next is both amazing and oddly frustrating. Christ spends time with His followers; then leaves again! Before He leaves, He tells the disciples and a smattering of other believers to sit, wait, and pray until He sends “round 2″ of His wonderful work. These faithful few were instructed to pray. Not short hail Mary’s or a wimpy “bless this food” type of prayier…but a converstation with God born out of desperation and spiritual hunger, with, by the way, no answer coming any time soon. So, they waited. In the midst of the long wait, the Holy Spirit came and made all the waiting worth while. Victory was theirs, and they saw amazing fruit from their faithfulness. Then, the honeymoon phase was over. The Holy Spirit still gave the followers amazing testimonies and abilities, but Jesus also indicated that the best was even YET to come. He was talking about the end of days. The BIG finale. The final end to all of this…junk. Well folks…we are it. Fast forward. We are the disciples that are now called to wait. He has not given us a time, day, or even specific decade, but Jesus has given us His spirit. That’s great, and I am happy but…why, then, do I feel so guilty about being impatient about this? Or, why do I sometimes secretly hope it doesn’t happen soon? I may be anxious or I may have more sinning to do. The problem with waiting is it causes us to feel the need to keep ourselves busy. Also, the times in which we are tapping our toe force us into times of introspection and honesty. We want to fix everything ourselves and earn our Heavenly reward by our own merit, but Jesus has called us to something a little more uncomfortable…waiting…and deeper so…staying faithful. Jesus is coming back. We must embrace the idea that this time of waiting could be an excellent time for us to make the world around us a better place. On top of that, there are people we could impact for His kingdom. Don’t give up just because impatience is a reality. Stop tapping your toe. Get up and go! Be the hands and feet of Jesus before it is too late. This post was written by Rev DeCrastos. You can find his blog here: http://other-words.net |
Categories
All
Archives
December 2018
|