Fearless

 

Fearless

Fearless - Audio/Visual

Jesus then left the Temple. As he walked away, his disciples pointed out how very impressive the Temple architecture was.  Jesus said, "You're not impressed by all this sheer size, are you? The truth of the matter is that there's not a stone in that building that is not going to end up in a pile of rubble." (Matt. 24:1-2)

Have you paid attention to those drug commercials on television with all those warnings? You know, where the happy couple is walking hand-in-hand on the beach while a voice in the background warns you about all of the potential side effects that can happen if you actually take the drug like coughing, wheezing, diarrhea, loss of bladder control, going cross-eyed, growing hair on your back, and your head popping off. And those are just the warnings for the acne medication. Or, how many times have you heard potential parents question whether they even want to bring a baby into the world because: (1) global warming is going to melt the icecaps and we’re all going to drown; or (2) powerful madmen have the capability of developing nuclear weapons which they won’t hesitate to use to further their political ideologies; or (3) political movements in our country threaten to undo the Constitution, our freedoms, all decent, moral law, and protect the privileged few; or (4) COVID-19 is going to doom us all? We live in a pretty scary world, and it seems like nothing’s stable – everything’s changing. But in the midst of the chaos, Jesus tells us that we can be fearless.

The disciples were impressed with the massive stones used to construct the temple, where some of the largest rocks were almost 40 feet long, 10 feet high and weighed hundreds of tons. The gold, silver and intricate carvings, both inside and outside of the buildings, were beyond impressive; they were a masterpiece. So to the disciples, the buildings represented something they thought would always last. The disciples were probably thinking, “Man, these buildings will be here forever!” And Jesus’ response to their awe? Not a stone would be left standing. Not particularly encouraging.

But in 70 A.D., that’s exactly what happened. The Romans were tired of the Jew’s constant rebellion. So the army, under the direction of Emperor Titus, with Tiberius Julius Alexander as his second-in-command, sacked the city: it was completely destroyed. According to Josephus (a Jewish historian who had been sent by the Romans to attempt to negotiate peace with the Jewish people inside the city of Jerusalem), Roman soldiers grew furious with Jewish attacks and tactics and set fire to an apartment adjacent to the Temple. Unfortunately, the fire soon spread to the Temple itself and melted the gold inside. So, after killing an estimated 1.1 million people during the siege, most of whom were Jewish, the Romans overturned every stone of the temple to salvage the gold that had seeped into the cracks between each block. In fact, the only evidence of the old city is what’s now known as the “Wailing Wall,” which seems appropriate given its tragic history. In other words, the same buildings that the disciples thought would last forever were destroyed within 40 years of Jesus’ prediction. In fact, some of these same disciples may have been alive to see the carnage from a distance.

So faced with the prospect of destruction, the disciples asked Jesus about the future, and Jesus reveals several crises that will take place before he returns. But it’s not just knowledge that he wants to share; he wants the disciples to be prepared by letting them know that it won’t be pretty, and it won’t be easy. It won’t be a time to play church. And Jesus starts out by saying that lots of deceivers will come, and lots of people will be deceived. Church and religion, it seems, have always been a breeding ground for so called “messiahs:” they come and go with regularity. They use words like “God told me,” or “God led me,” or “God spoke to me.” And they all seem to have frequent sit-downs with the Almighty. But Jesus said there would be a time of spiritual crisis and confusion; waves of strange teachings that sound good but aren’t. We are living in a time of false religions and, at least it seems, the truth is losing ground.

Later, in Matthew 24:24, Jesus warns that “Fake Messiahs and lying preachers are going to pop up everywhere. Their impressive credentials and dazzling performances will pull the wool over the eyes of even those who ought to know better. But I've given you fair warning.” In other words, there’s going to be slick appearances and “miraculous” performances. There’ll be multitudes and miracles; large audiences and spectacular deeds. Throngs of people. Displays of power. But don’t be impressed by the numbers, the tricks or the hucksters. Frankly, it seems like everyone’s looking for THE anti-Christ. But John tells us to look around because they’re coming and going all the time. (1 John 2:18) The mark of an anti-Christ is a person who claims extraordinary powers, that they’re closer to God than the rest of us and who exalt themselves while diminishing Jesus. They confuse the body of Christ, are accountable to no one, and hate being questioned about what they’re doing. Reminds me of a few televangelists, maybe even a politician or two.

But Jesus said it would also be a time of spiritual crisis. The world will be in an upheaval. Do you get that sense today with news of places like North Korea, China, Iran, or just about the entire Middle East making the headlines? We have madmen trying to get their hands on nuclear bombs, and countries threatening to annihilate Israel. Sometimes it seems like we’re even on the brink of civil war in our own country. And Jesus says this is only the beginning, not the end. Terrific. And it won’t be just a time of spiritual and political crisis, but a time of creation crisis as well. There will be famines and earthquakes in many parts of the world, and all of this is just the beginning. Now I don’t know where you stand on the politics of global warming, but there’s no doubt that Jesus says there’s going to be an increase in natural disasters before he returns because the planet is dying to be set free from the death and decay to which it has been subjected since sin first entered into the world.

In 1988, Edgar Whisenant, a former NASA engineer, wrote a book about the 88 reasons Jesus was going to return in 1988. He revised it to the 89 reasons Jesus was going to return in 1989, and again in 1993, and then again in 1994. There will be no new predictions however since Mr. Whisenant passed away in 2001. But now we have Hal Lindsey, Pat Robertson and others claiming that they have this end-times thing figured out. I’m not so sure. But as the end looms nearer each day, it will also become a crisis for Christians. Those aren’t happy words. Right now, an estimated 165,000 Christians are killed every year for nothing more than expressing their faith in Jesus. And in an “age of tolerance,” Christians aren’t. We will be fair game and we’ll be persecuted, hated and mocked. People we thought were contenders will be exposed as pretenders.

Persecution will reveal our faith and separate the real from the unreal. And what‘s scary is how Jesus says that our fellowship will be fractured and some of us will betray the very people we claim to love. In fact, Jesus said that the mark of these days will be a love that has grown cold. In other words, we just won’t feel like doing good anymore. Pretty grim stuff. But, there’s good news. Jesus says, “Don’t freak out when bad things happen. Don’t panic – these things have got to take place.” And if these things have to take place, then there must be a plan in there somewhere. And if so, it must be Jesus’ plan since, last time I checked, there’s no one who can predict the future of world events with any degree of accuracy. In other words, he already knows what’s going to happen, when it’s going to happen, how it’s going to happen and what he’s going to do about it.

In the midst of all this chaos, his people are still going to be talking about the Good News everywhere they go. They’re not intimidated; they’re not afraid; they’re not confused; and they’re not freaked out. In other words, everything will work out in the end because if it’s not working out it must not be the end. For instance, I like good, political discussion as much as anybody but lately I hear people talking about politics in a panicky way. They talk as if government is either going to save this country or destroy it. But didn’t Jesus say some things “must” take place before the end? Frankly, my hope’s not in the government. My destiny is in the hands of God, and no one else.

I think it was Jesus who said that he had every intention of meeting all of our needs according to his riches in glory (Phil. 4:19), not Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac or some multi-billion dollar bailout plan. And it’s Jesus who said he knows all of your needs, including the number of hairs on your head. (Luke 12:7) And it’s Jesus who told us not to worry about tomorrow. (Matt. 6:34) And it was Jesus who said that he would never leave us or forsake us. (Hebrews 13:5) For instance, remember when Jesus walked on the water? It was in the middle of the night during a pretty vicious storm on the Sea of Galilee. And do you remember Peter? Peter asked Jesus if he could walk on the water. So, Jesus said, “Sure Peter, the water’s just fine!” Do you think there was a more nerve-wracking moment in Peter’s life than maybe that one? And although Peter got wet, he didn't drown because Jesus reached out his hand and saved him.

In the middle of the storm we’re living in right now, Jesus is telling you to step out and rest on his power. In other words, if you want to walk on water, you’ve got to get out of the boat. And despite storm clouds on the horizon, we live in a day of tremendous opportunity. We live in a day when Christians can really be Christians; when the gospel makes sense to a world in distress; when we can stand out from the crowd. Remember, “There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love.” (1 John 4:18) Stated differently, we can live fearlessly in the storms of calamity. Take David, for example. He lived through a lot of adversity. He faced giants both on and off the field. In fact, his world was rocked and he lost everything that he had, including his wife, when King Saul became jealous of David and decided to spend the rest of his life trying to kill him. If that were to happen to you, I’m sure you’d feel helpless, hopeless, outnumbered and that the only way that your circumstances could turn out would be bad – very bad. David’s world was in a shambles. But in his moments of distress he found an amazing truth – one of those “Aha!” moments.

“Light, space, zest— that's God! So, with him on my side I'm fearless, afraid of no one and nothing. When vandal hordes ride down ready to eat me alive, those bullies and toughs fall flat on their faces. When besieged, I'm calm as a baby. When all hell breaks loose, I'm collected and cool.” (Psalm 27:1-3) In other words, David found a solution to fear and it was the fact that he worshipped a really big God! A protecting God; a God who’s bigger than the enemy; a God who knows how to fight; a God who is like a fort with walls that won’t fall; a God who knows how to make enemies look bad; a God who gives confidence. Listen to another of David’s psalms: “God is a safe place to hide, ready to help when we need him. We stand fearless at the cliff-edge of doom, courageous in sea storm and earthquake, before the rush and roar of oceans, the tremors that shift mountains. Jacob-wrestling God fights for us, God-of-Angel-Armies protects us. River fountains splash joy, cooling God's city, this sacred haunt of the Most High. God lives here, the streets are safe, God at your service from the crack of dawn. Godless nations rant and rave, kings and kingdoms threaten, but Earth does anything he says. Jacob-wrestling God fights for us, God-of-Angel-Armies protects us.” (Psalm 46:1-7)

Pretty encouraging don’t you think? The greatness of a city that can never fall; a place where the economy is never in a recession; a city with a crystal clear river always bringing fresh water into the city. It’s the city of God. And even though we live in a world of chaos and problems, we also have a Kingdom in which we’re also now living because we’re dual citizens. So, who’s card are you carrying? Who’s kingdom are you in? And where do you spend most of your time? Attention, all! See the marvels of God! He plants flowers and trees all over the earth, bans war from pole to pole, breaks all the weapons across his knee. “Step out of the traffic! Take a long, loving look at me, your High God, above politics, above everything." Jacob-wrestling God fights for us, God-of-Angel-Armies protects us. (Psalm 46:8-11)

In a world of problems and calamity, we don’t have to fear. We just need to be still and know that our God has all things under his amazing control. So, be still; be unafraid. Know that he is God - not the government, not the problems, not even COVID-19. God’s kingdom can’t be shaken. So, be intrepid; be brave; be courageous; be bold; be valiant. Be fearless.

Grace,

Randy

Resolution

 

Resolution

Resolution - Audio/Visual

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. … The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John 1:1-5, 14)

So what’s your New Year’s Resolution for 2021? Maybe you’ve made several, or maybe you’ve given up on the whole resolution thing thinking anything would have to be better than 2020. But if you’ve made one or a dozen, and your past experiences are like mine, by the end of January most of your resolutions are broken, and by the end of February … well … they’re pretty much forgotten. Frankly, I think the problem with making resolutions is found in the word itself, i.e., solution.

The problem is that we can never really resolve the core problems of life in our own strength because although the spirit of resolution is willing, the flesh of the solution is weak. We know deep down inside that we need something outside of ourselves to empower us to live out the solutions of life, but there’s been only one resolution that has ever been completely fulfilled. And it is this great resolution, I believe, that lies behind our impulse to resolve the problems and issues of being human. This great resolution is what we just celebrated this past Christmas: the Word becoming flesh and dwelling among us. (John 1:14)

You see, God resolved to give birth to the solution to humanity’s brokenness and sin in the form of his only begotten Son, Jesus Christ. God came to be with his creation, now and forever, in the form of a solitary human being who would grow up and begin his ministry of salvation and resolution in a dusty, out-of-the-way province of Palestine. In Jesus, the very character of God is revealed, since only in Jesus could the very nature of God be known and experienced. As the apostle John said so well, “The law was given through Moses, but grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.” (John 1:17) And don’t miss the order of the words, “grace” and “truth.” The writer’s use of the words, and their order, was intentional.

For instance, the grace of God is this unconditional, infinite love that God has for his creation, because the truth is that God needed to send his Son, Jesus, into the world to save us from our sins. And the grace of God is the giftedness of this love, including its divine initiative and sacrificial vulnerability, because the truth is that God so loved the world that he was prepared to come into this world as a vulnerable human being. It’s this grace/truth dynamic that’s the solution for humanity’s impulse to find meaning, value and fulfillment.

The truth of the human species is that we have the capacity for both great good and incredible evil. And there’s a wonderful beauty about humanity which God embraces, because God becoming human presupposes the inherent characteristics of being human in the first place. Nevertheless, we’re a flawed, broken and fallen humanity in need of salvation and restoration. Alexander Solzhenitsyn said, “If only it were all so simple! If only there were evil people somewhere committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart.” (The Gulag Archipelago) The apostle Paul put it this way: “I have discovered this principle of life – that when I want to do right, I inevitably do what is wrong.” (Romans 7: 21)

It is God’s great resolution in Jesus Christ that releases us from the tyranny of knowing our human potential and yet never achieving it; of destroying, or damaging, the important achievements in life through our illogical, chaotic tendencies of self-interest and aggression. God, in Jesus, saves us from the dichotomy of ourselves. And God’s great resolution has the ability to save us because, first of all, he accepts us as we are – in all our grubbiness. At the same time God, in Jesus, embraces and esteems humanity and confronts our sinfulness, enabling us to be released from evil through his supernatural power. But this resolution doesn’t occur through the dictatorial activity of a deity that beats us into conformity. Instead, the solution occurs through the God/Jesus who initiates an event in human time and space. Salvation is offered through the God who loves us so much that he is willing to communicate that love by being born a human, living a fully-human life, and then dying at the hands of the very human beings that he loves infinitely. Maybe the following story will help.

Once upon a time, a watermelon hunter strayed from his own country into a place known as the Land of Fools. He suddenly encountered a group of people fleeing in terror from a field where they had been reaping wheat. “There’s a monster in that field,” one of them yelled. The watermelon hunter went over to the “monster” in the field and saw … a watermelon. The crowd of people watched him from a safe distance with a mixture of fear and awe. Realizing this was his opportunity to impress and win these strangers over he said, “I’ll kill the monster for you.” And with that, he drew his sword, cut the melon from its stalk and then cut himself a large slice of the watermelon and began to eat it. Witnessing this incredible spectacle, the people became even more terrified of him than they had been of the watermelon “monster.” Some of them screamed in fright at the sight of this foreigner devouring part of the monster. Others began to whisper, “He will kill us next unless we get rid of him.” So, they drove him away with pitchforks and whatever else they could lay their hands on.

Many years passed and another watermelon hunter strayed into the Land of Fools. He encountered a similar situation as the first man. But instead of offering to help them kill the monster, he agreed with the fools that it might be dangerous to try that, and by tip-toeing away from the watermelon gained their confidence. Thereafter, he decided to spend time with these people in their homes. He developed relationships with them. Eventually, little by little, he taught them some basics about watermelons that enabled them to lose their fear of watermelons, and to eventually cultivate them for themselves. (Adapted from an old Sufi legend)

God, in Jesus, is like the second watermelon hunter who decided to completely identify with us as human beings. God comes from another land and has the solution to all our dilemmas, fears and sufferings. Yet God does not impose this solution, like the first watermelon hunter. God appreciates and respects his creation with all its limitations. God accepts humanity as it is and yet, paradoxically, exposes humanity’s brokenness and sin by offering a solution through his limitless love. God, through Jesus, dwells with us in our homes; he is in relationship with us as one of us, yet he is still God – beyond us, and from a strange land.

John Tucker, a Baptist minister from New Zealand, had a useful observation which I think applies – it’s about aquariums. He says, “Have you ever seen one of those really sophisticated aquariums for tropical fish that some people have in their living rooms? You probably know someone who has one. It takes incredible energy and compassion to take care of those delicate fish. You have to feed them three times a day, change the water filters, monitor the water temperature, and test the nitrate levels. You’d think the fish would be grateful. But every time your shadow appears above the tank, the fish dive for cover. Out of ignorance they perceive their caretaker as a threat. Tragically, they see his acts of mercy as cruelty. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot convince them of his true intentions. He’s too large for them; too different. To change their perception, to communicate his true intentions, to reveal his true character, would mean getting into the aquarium, not just caring for their “world,” but actually being in it; becoming one of them.”

In Jesus, God got into the aquarium of humanity. Through Jesus, God in his infinite wisdom was at once able to identify with his creation and communicate God’s glory, i.e., grace and truth, and resolution for a creation quarantined by evil and self-indulgence. And God, in Jesus, continues to dwell among us in the form of the Holy Spirit – the living reality of Jesus Christ who was raised from the dead through the supernatural power of God’s limitless love. Praise God that the Light that came into this world and is still with us. God, through Jesus, is Emmanuel which means “God with us.” In other words, we can have a full relationship with God, through Jesus, in the here and now, and by accepting Jesus as he accepts us, our eternal resolution with God is sealed – now and for eternity.

As Jesus’ disciples, we have the same task of accepting people as they are, and to learn to treat them with a grace they don’t deserve. We need to take the time to build the kind of relationships that demonstrate the great resolution of God in Jesus – a salvation of grace and truth. That kind of resolution, I believe, is worthy of any new year.

Happy New Year!

Randy

Mary Christmas

 

Mary Christmas

Mary Christmas - Audio/Visual

In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a village in Galilee, to a virgin named Mary. She was engaged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of King David. Gabriel appeared to her and said, “Greetings, favored woman! The Lord is with you!” Confused and disturbed, Mary tried to think what the angel could mean. “Don’t be afraid, Mary,” the angel told her, “for you have found favor with God! You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be very great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David. And he will reign over Israel forever; his Kingdom will never end!”

Mary asked the angel, “But how can this happen? I am a virgin.” The angel replied, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the baby to be born will be holy, and he will be called the Son of God. What’s more, your relative Elizabeth has become pregnant in her old age! People used to say she was barren, but she has conceived a son and is now in her sixth month. For nothing is impossible with God.” Mary responded, “I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.” And then the angel left her. (Luke 1:26-38)

Here’s what we know about Mary: her father’s name was Eli; she had a sister named Salome; she had a relative named Elizabeth; she’s young; she’s poor; she’s devout; and she’s head-over-heels in love. Mary is a teenager in love. She may have been as young as 12 or 13, or, perhaps, as old as 18 or 19. But if we said 15, let’s say for example, we probably wouldn’t be too far off.

When the story opens, Mary is “pledged” to Joseph. That meant that she said “Yes” when Joseph asked, and was probably very busy preparing for the wedding. But, like most engagements, there’s some time between the “pledge” and the wedding itself, maybe as much as six months or more. In that culture, and during that period of time, the couple was considered to be “married,” and were called husband and wife, but they didn’t live or sleep together. And during this time, Mary probably lived with her parents, and Joseph with his. Then, after the wedding feast, they’d live together as husband and wife and do what husbands and wives do.

Like teenagers everywhere, she probably had a hard time thinking of just about anything else. And if the wedding was four or five months away, her thoughts were probably centered on the same things brides think about today – the guest list, the decorations, the food, the music, what she’ll wear and where they’ll put the people up who come in from out-of-town. Mary had likely never been happier. This was probably the most exciting time of her life. And then God breaks in. He’s about to ask an unknown teenage girl to take part in something that’s so shocking that it borders on the absurd. What God asks Mary to do will change her life . . . forever.

Gone are the happy dreams of a beautiful wedding; gone are the days of sweet anticipation; gone are the carefully thought out plans for the wedding feast; gone are the hopes for “the most beautiful wedding to the most wonderful man who ever lived;” gone are all her girlish hopes of a quiet life in the home she would personally decorate. She’ll be married alright, but not before rumors spread throughout the countryside. There’ll be a wedding feast, too, but not the way she’d planned. She’ll have a home, and it’ll be filled with children, but over her family will rest an ever-present dark cloud of suspicion.

So, there’s Mary, just minding her own business and, perhaps, doing some chores around her parent’s house. Maybe it’s 2:00 p.m. or so, and “Dreamboat” is coming over tonight for dinner. She’s excited to see her JoJo; she’s excited because she wants to talk over her newest idea for the wedding feast, and something about a new dress that she thinks he’s just going to love. In her mind, she’s ticking off the things she wants to talk to him about – so many details and so little time. Tonight the two of them will probably take a romantic walk along the road leading to Capernaum. Mary can hardly wait to start getting ready for Joseph’s arrival. Lost in thought, she steps outside to fetch some water from the well and there he is, standing by the olive tree in the back yard. She wouldn’t have noticed him at all except that she bumped into him. She glanced up at him, started to say, “Excuse me,” when something made her hesitate. It wasn’t fear exactly, more like surprise or puzzlement. Who’s this stranger, and why is he standing in my backyard?

Then he spoke and she got spooked: “Greetings, favored woman! The Lord is with you!” Mary doesn’t know what to make of it. It’d be as if someone you’d never seen before came up to you and said, “Good news. This is your lucky day. God has chosen you for a special blessing.” How do you respond to that? Understandably, Mary is just a little troubled. And for good reason. She’s 15, about to be married, and dreaming about her future husband. Now some stranger steps into her life and says something so bizarre she could hardly believe what she heard. No wonder she was disturbed.

But that’s not the half of it. Without a pause, Gabriel proceeds to tell her something that completely blows her mind. She’s going to have a baby, but not just any baby. She’s going to give birth to the Son of God. So, how’s that for a conversation starter? What do you say to that? Remember, you’re 15, it’s 2:00 in the afternoon, you’re minding your own business on the way to the well, thinking about Mr. Dreamy and planning your wedding. Your life couldn’t be more perfect. Now, some stranger tells you the most preposterous-sounding thing you’ve ever heard in your life. I mean, what do you do? Do you argue? Do you ask for clarification? Do you call 911? Do you say, “Who are you and how’d you get in my yard?” Do you laugh out loud?

You couldn’t really blame her for any of those responses. But she passes over all the hard stuff, cuts right to the chase and asks a technical question: “But how can this happen? I’m a virgin.” Good question. She’s engaged, but not married, and she hasn’t slept with a man. So, how can she become pregnant and bear a son? In other words, she believed but needed a little clarification from what she’d learned in her biology class. Now that’s faith. That’s believing the impossible. That’s trusting God when the “facts” argue against it.

In the history of the church, Mary has generally been portrayed as a kind of misty, other-worldly figure. For instance, if you look at some of the great paintings of Mary, they make her look so peaceful and beatific that you almost forget she was a real person. That’s a shame, because Luke makes it clear that she was very real, with very real doubts, very real questions and a very real faith. Nowhere is this seen with more clarity than when Mary responds, “I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.” Then the guy disappears.

Without exaggeration, Mary’s response is one of the greatest testaments of faith in the entire Bible. Unfortunately, we’ve read it so often that we forget how great it really is. But remember, it’s 2:00 in the afternoon, you’re 15 years old and you’re head-over-heels in love. Your mom’s just asked you to fetch some water to do the laundry and you’re on your way to the well. Then, you run into a man you’ve never seen before and he tells you that you’re going to get pregnant and give birth to the Son of God. And when you ask how, he says, “Don’t worry about it. The Holy Spirit will cover you like a cloud and you’ll end up pregnant. That’s all there is to it.” What do you say to that?

Well, Mary said, “Yes.” Yes to God. Yes to the impossible. Yes to the plan of God. Did her heart skip a beat when she said “Yes?” What do you think? There she is, teen head tilted high, her hands trembling just a bit, wide-eyed, nervous, open-mouthed, questioning but not afraid, wondering but not terrified, unsure but not uncertain. And when the angel said, “Nothing is impossible with God,” Mary takes a deep breath and says, May everything you have said about me come true.” And with those words Christmas came to the world.

But from that moment on, she’ll face the incredulity of friends who’ll laugh at her virgin “story,” the scurrilous gossip of neighbors who’ll gloat about Joseph getting “lucky,” and the whispers of teenage promiscuity that have continued for 2,000 years. Mary knew – or would soon realize – that saying “Yes” to God meant losing her reputation and with it her dreams of a quiet, happy life in Nazareth. And what about Joseph? What will he be thinking? Will he blow up and walk out on her? Will he humiliate her publicly? Worse yet, “Will he divorce me?” And as it turns out, Mary had good reason to worry about Joseph because although he didn’t blow up or try humiliating her, he was intent on divorcing her. Only an angel’s intervention kept that from happening. By saying “Yes,” she risked losing the man she loved. Her entire future was literally on the line.

And all these things were just the beginning. Mary couldn’t know what the future would hold. But before it was all over, she’d experience heartache, opposition, slander, confusion, anguish, despair and loneliness. After Joseph’s death, she’d be left a single mom with the responsibility of raising a bunch of kids on a carpenter’s pension. And in the end, she’d face the greatest pain a mother can endure when she would watch her son being murdered on a Roman cross. Mary couldn’t have known all those things. But if she had, would she have said “Yes” to God? Maybe it’s better not knowing what the future holds sometimes. Mary didn’t know the price of saying “Yes,” but having made her decision she never looked back. When God said, “Are you willing to believe the impossible?,” Mary said, “Yes.” And without that “Yes,” there’d be no Christmas.

I have no doubt that Mary at least once, or maybe a million times, asked, “Why me?” Why would God choose an obscure peasant girl in some out-of-the-way village as the chosen vessel to bring his son into the world? There are many answers that have nothing to do with Mary, but there’s one answer that has everything to do with her: God chose Mary because he trusted her. He knew she was willing to believe the impossible. He also knew she was willing to pay the price for that belief. He knew she was willing to bear a child out of wedlock in order to bring God’s Son into the world.

Saying “Yes” burdened her with 33 years of turmoil and heartache. But saying “Yes” gave her the inexpressible joy of being the mother of the Son of God, including its reward – because among women there has never been anyone greater. I think that if, somehow, Mary could be here today and we could ask her, “Was it worth it?,” she’d once again say, “Yes.” And to all believers she stands as a model of openness to great possibilities, and a model of faith in the face of many natural doubts.

“Nothing is impossible with God.” That’s as true today as it was 2,000 years ago. But you have to say “Yes,” or the impossible will never happen. And that ought to encourage us at this season of the year, because the Christmas story is filled with miracles from beginning to end. The Wise Men see a miraculous star in the sky and travel to Bethlehem. The angels sing to the shepherds. A virgin gets pregnant. A wicked king kills all the babies in Bethlehem … except the one he most wanted. The baby and his parents are warned in a dream of the king’s evil plan and escape to Egypt just in the nick of time. There are miracles galore in the Christmas story.

Christmas and miracles. That’s good news for all of us, and very good news for some of us. Some of us are carrying heavy burdens today. For some, Christmas will be very lonely this year. Some are facing a health and/or financial crisis that looks hopeless right now. Some are out of work and don’t have a single lead on a good job. Some are looking at a marriage that seems worse than hopeless. Some are estranged from members of their own family. Some have children who are far away from God. Some feel lonely and far away from God themselves. Who wouldn’t these COVID days? And the list goes on and on. But all these things have this one thing in common: they seem impossible to solve by human means. And for the most part they are. After all, if human means could have solved those problems, they’d have probably been solved a long time ago. But Christmas is about miracles. They happened 2,000 years ago, and they can still happen today.

So, what is it that God wants from us? Total comprehension about the future before we will trust him? No. That’s impossible. A perfect knowledge of the Bible? No. If that were the case, then there would be no need for trust. Spiritual giants on the way to sainthood? No, there’s not a whole lot of giants out there. So what does God want from us? The same thing he wanted from Mary. Simple faith that he will keep his word in unlikely and unexpected ways. So, this Christmas, rather than asking for more faith, maybe we should pray for the courage to exercise the faith we have. To make us more like Mary – willing to believe in spite of our doubts.

Mary Christmas,

Randy

Wise Guys

 

Wise Guys

Wise Guys - Audio/Visual

"Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, saying, ’Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we have seen His star in the East and have come to worship Him.’ When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. And when he had gathered all the chief priests and scribes of the people together, he inquired of them where the Christ was to be born. So they said to him, "In Bethlehem of Judea, for thus it is written by the prophet: ’But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, Are not the least among the rulers of Judah; For out of you shall come a Ruler Who will shepherd My people Israel.’ Then Herod, when he had secretly called the wise men, determined from them what time the star appeared. And he sent them to Bethlehem and said, ’Go and search carefully for the young Child, and when you have found Him, bring back word to me, that I may come and worship Him also.’ When they heard the king, they departed; and behold, the star which they had seen in the East went before them, till it came and stood over where the young Child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceedingly great joy. And when they had come into the house, they saw the young Child with Mary His mother, and fell down and worshiped Him. And when they had opened their treasures, they presented gifts to Him: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Then, being divinely warned in a dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed for their own country another way." (Matthew 2:1-12)

I think the story of the wise men is kind of mysterious. Unfortunately, traditions, like party-poopers, have attempted to take all the mystery out of the encounter which is recorded only in the book of Matthew. For instance, the Magi are commonly referred to as both wise men and kings. But these guys were no kings. The word itself, magi, is the Latin version of the plural Greek word, magos. But magos is from an Old Persian word maguŝ which is taken from the Avestan (an eastern Iranian language), magâunô. The magâunô were a religious, priestly caste who paid very close attention to the stars and had gained an international reputation for astrology – a belief that by studying the stars (astronomy) you could predict the future and explain the present. At that time, astrology was huge – let’s call it following the science. So, the magâunô’s religious practices, including their use of astrology, resulted in the term magi being used to describe the occult. Hence, the English word “magic.”

And the phrase from the East? Well, that’s the only information Matthew gives us about where these guys came from. Traditionally, the view developed that they were Babylonians (present day Turkey), or Persians (present day Iran), or Jewish men from Yemen. However, the majority believe that they were probably from Babylon, which – at least at that time – was the center of astrology. Three gifts are also identified in Matthew, i.e., gold, frankincense and myrrh. Now, there’s a lot of theories about the meaning and symbolism of these gifts, but they’re generally lumped into two, major categories. The first grouping suggests that all three gifts were offerings and gifts that would, typically, have been given to a king: myrrh being commonly used as an anointing oil; frankincense as a perfume; and gold as a valuable.

The other line of thought suggests that the three gifts had a spiritual meaning: gold as a symbol of kingship on earth; frankincense as a symbol of the priesthood; and myrrh (an embalming oil) as a symbol of death. In fact, these spiritual interpretations are alluded to in the verses of the popular Christmas Carol, We Three Kings, circa 1857. Of course, it was 3 gifts not 3 kings because we don’t really know how many wise men actually showed up, and they weren’t kings. Regardless of your take on popular traditions, these guys were men of faith because what would prompt someone to leave the comfort of their own home to go on a dangerous trip? Romance? Maybe. Wealth? Probably. But faith? Remember, this was a journey of close to 900 miles which, in those days, might as well have been 9,000 miles, or 9,000,000 miles since traveling that kind of distance could have taken as long as a year.

Their question though, “Where is He who has been born King of the Jews?” is really very probing. There’s no doubt from their question that they believed that Jesus had been born. So, the real question was, “Where is He?” Better yet, these guys had seen a star and being the astrologers that they were this sign fascinated them and confirmed what they’d heard. So, their evidence was real. In other words, they had faith that the Christ child existed. Now, all they had to do was find Him and, apparently, they were willing to risk everything to do just that. And speaking of risk, did you happen to catch the name of the guy to whom the wise guys asked their question? Yep, good ol’ king Herod himself – a real peach of a guy. He suffered from depression and paranoia. As a result, he saw a conspiracy around every corner and under every rug. Being a career politician, he didn’t want to lose his job to some upstart, so he simply murdered his challengers. This included his first wife, three of his sons, and one of his sons-in-law. Yeah, he was a real charmer.

This is the same guy who, when his kingdom was running a little short on cash, didn’t bother raising taxes or printing more money. No, Herod had a better idea. He simply went to the source and invited 45 of the country’s wealthiest families (all members of the Jewish Sanhedrin) to Jerusalem for the weekend and threw them a huge party. The guests had the time of their lives. Good thing, because Herod’s parting gift at this killer party was the ordering of their immediate execution and the seizure of their estates. Quite the charitable fundraiser. And as Herod’s life was drawing to a close, he became concerned that no one would actually mourn his death. So, he commanded a large group of distinguished men to come to his palace in Jericho, at which time he ordered the men imprisoned and sentenced to death when Herod died. That way, Herod figured, there’d be plenty of grieving – if not for him, at least in general. Fortunately, Herod’s son, Archilaus, and his sister, Salome, didn’t carry out their father’s wishes.

So, you can imagine Herod’s response when the wise men asked, “Where is He who has been born King of the Jews,” especially when Herod considered himself a Jew. So, here’s Herod, a crazed, conspiracy-theorist who’s asked, “Where’s the King, king?” by a bunch of smart aleck foreigners. Given the wise guys that they were, they probably quit asking questions and called a cab for the six mile drive to Bethlehem. But now you can see why Herod had no problem ordering that all male children under two (2) years old be killed. For Herod, it was all in a day’s work. Herod was a real piece of work. That’s why the wise men went home another way, and Joseph, Mary and Jesus took a train to Egypt.

So, can you imagine the neighbor’s reaction when the wise men were getting ready to head out and go to Jerusalem? Maybe it went something like this: “Hey, John, looks like you’re gettin’ ready to go on a trip somewhere.” “Yeah, I am.” “Cool. Where ya goin’?” “I’m not really sure.” “OK. Well, how far are you gonna go on this trip? I mean, are you going across-town or are you going, let’s say, cross-country?” “Well, I don’t really know the answer to that one, either.” “Hummmmm. OK. Well then, do you know how long you’ll be gone?” “Unfortunately, I’m not too sure about that one as well.” “You know, John, for a ‘wise man,’ you don’t know much, do you?”

Of course, this wouldn’t be the first time that people questioned an act of faith.  For instance, people must have said some pretty similar things to Abraham when he left his home and family for a place that God would eventually show him. (Acts 7:2-3) But God’s journeys always involve faith. In fact, the Hebrew writer says in Hebrews 11:6 that “It’s impossible to please God apart from faith. And why? Because anyone who wants to approach God must believe both that he exists and that he cares enough to respond to those who seek him.” The Bible is full of stories of people of faith who have been willing to respond to the challenges of the unknown.

Interestingly, journeys of faith always produce worship. In our story, the wise men’s journey was for the express purpose of worship. They brought gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh and these gifts had a worshipful purpose. Gold represented wealth – a gift fit for the King of kings. Frankincense was the sap of a tree that had been dried, hardened and used as incense to worship God – a fitting gift for the Son of God, our High Priest. Myrrh is a fragrant perfume that was used to anoint and embalm Jesus – the sacrificial Lamb of God. But there’s more to worship than gift giving like presents of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Worship also involves sacrifice. These men had devoted themselves to go on a journey to an unknown location, at an unknown distance, for an unknown period of time. And don’t forget, travel in those days was not very comfortable and could be downright dangerous. Nevertheless, the wise men sacrificed their own comfort and safety to find the King and to worship Him.

So, how about you? What gifts will you bring? “But I don’t have anything to give Him,” you say. Well, that’s not altogether true. For instance, where were you last Sunday, or maybe mid-week? Maybe church or a small group Bible study? You’ve given Him something of yourself haven’t you? You’ve given your time. For instance, last Sunday maybe you prepared for worship by getting up (you could have slept in), getting dressed (you could have stayed home in your robe and slippers) and getting ready to seek a King (you could have decided to go without a shower, a shave or even makeup). So, you got in your car, used your gas and went to worship.

See, when you come, you come as a living sacrifice even though you may not see it that way. Maybe you didn’t even realize it. The effort you make to worship God is a part of your sacrifice to Him. But what God wants most of all, more than your sacrifice, is you. He wants your heart. He wants your attention. He wants your dependence on Him. So the question becomes, “What are you willing to give Him?” Are you willing to give Him your best? Are you willing to go on a spiritual journey to worship Him? Are you willing to give up your comfort zone to follow Christ? The wise men were.

But along with the journey, and the worship and the sacrifice, a wise man’s journey is also one of change. Isn’t it interesting that after the wise men worshiped Jesus they couldn’t go back the same way they came? That’s true even today. Once you’ve met God you’ll never be the same. An encounter with God changes things – it changes you. It’s always been that way. And that’s what happens when we walk into the presence of God. We’re changed. That’s what happened to the wise men when they encountered Christ – they were changed. And that’s what happens when we encounter Christ – things become different.

So, we hear the story of the wise men around this time of the year. But this season, consider that maybe, just maybe, they were wise because they had faith; they were wise because they worshiped and, as a result, their lives were changed forever. And all because of a child. Are you looking for a change in your life? Find Christ this Christmas and you’ll be changed; things will be different. Step out in faith and seek Him as the wise men did. It’s the wisest decision you’ll ever make.

Grace,

Randy

Tuckered Town

 

Tuckered Town

Tuckered Town - Audio/Visual

You people in Galatia were told very clearly about the death of Jesus Christ on the cross. But you were foolish; you let someone trick you. Tell me this one thing: How did you receive the Holy Spirit? Did you receive the Spirit by following the law? No, you received the Spirit because you heard the Good News and believed it. You began your life in Christ by the Spirit. Now are you trying to make it complete by your own power? That is foolish. Were all your experiences wasted? I hope not! Does God give you the Spirit and work miracles among you because you follow the law? No, he does these things because you heard the Good News and believed it. The Scriptures say the same thing about Abraham: “Abraham believed God, and God accepted Abraham’s faith, and that faith made him right with God.” (Gal. 3:1-6)

Turn north onto Stress Boulevard (just a few blocks east of Worrywart Way), then merge right at the fork in the road that leads through Exhaustion Valley. There you'll find yourself on the run-down streets of Tuckered Town – a place where the residents really do live up to the town’s name. They shuffle like pack mules on a Grand Canyon climb – eyes down, faces long and shoulders slumped. And when you ask the residents to explain their sluggish ways, they point to their cars. "You'd be tired too if you had to push one of these," they say. And to your amazement that's exactly what they’re doing. Shoulders pressing, feet digging, lungs puffing, they muscle automobiles up and down the town’s streets. Rather than sitting behind the wheel, they lean into the trunk. The sight is puzzling to be sure, but the sound is even more shocking because listen…. That’s right – the engines are running. Residents of Tuckered Town turn the key, start the car, slip it into neutral and then – shove.

A young mother rolls her minivan into the grocery store parking lot and you ask, "Have you ever thought of simply pressing the gas pedal?" "Oh sure I have. And I do," she says, brushing the sweat away. "I press the gas to start the car, and then I take over." And just then, you hear a whistling noise behind you so you turn around. And there stands an out-of-breath guy leaning against his eighteen-wheeler, wheezing like an overweight marathoner. "Did you push this truck?" "I did," he gasps, covering his mouth with an oxygen mask. "But why not use the accelerator?" He cocks an eyebrow and then boasts, "Because I'm a Tuckered trucker, and we're strong enough to do our own work around here." Funny. The Apostle Paul asked the Galatian church the same question: "You began your life in Christ by the Spirit. Now are you trying to make it complete by your own power? That’s foolish." (Gal. 3:3)

Is God nothing more than a jumper cable? You know, jump-start a new, spiritual life and nothing more? Apparently, Corinthian Christians were pushing a few cars around, too. "You are still not spiritual," the apostle accused them. (1 Cor. 3:3) Well, if that was true then what was Paul saying? Were they saved? Yes, because he addressed them as "brothers and sisters." (1 Cor. 3:1) He considered them to be God's children – saved and heaven-bound. But not spiritual. Plugged in, but not flipped on. "Brothers and sisters . . . I had to talk to you as I would to people without the Spirit – babies in Christ . . . You are still not spiritual, because there is jealousy and quarreling among you, and this shows that you are not spiritual. You are acting like people of the world." (1 Cor. 3:1-3)

I used to think that there were two kinds of people in the world: the saved and the unsaved. But Paul explains a third: the saved but unspiritual. The spiritual person is Spirit-dependent, Spirit-directed and Spirit-dominated. That person seeks to "walk in the Spirit." (Gal. 5:16) The unspiritual person, on the other hand, cranks up the car, sticks it in neutral, gets out of the vehicle and then pushes. Tragically, these people act "like people of the world" (1 Cor. 3:3) – in language, lifestyle, priorities and personality, they blend in with non-believers. They let God save them but not change them. Such carnal Christianity frustrated Paul, so he reproves them – “You began your life in Christ by the Spirit, but now you’re trying to make it on your own power. That’s foolishness." (Gal. 3:3 – my paraphrase) Foolish and miserable.

Frankly, you don't want to carpool with unspiritual Christians because they don’t have any kind words to share. "There’s jealousy and strife" among them, according to Paul. (1 Cor. 3:3) The only joy they know graduated from high school last year. And gratitude? For what? The two-ton Hummer they push up the hill every day? Right. The saved but unspiritual see salvation the way a farmer sees a hundred acres of untilled soil – lots of hard work. Church attendance, sin resistance – have I done enough? No wonder they're tired. No wonder they argue. "You’re jealous of one another and quarrel with each other. Doesn't that prove you’re controlled by your own desires?" (1 Cor. 3:3) Harsh words. Joyless days. Contentious relationships. Thirsty hearts. You’d find more excitement at an Amish prom. Who would ever want to live in Tuckered Town?

Better yet, who would want to move there? Nothing repels non-Christians more than gloomy Christians. No one wants a free truck if you have to push it. Your neighbor doesn't. You don't. And God doesn't want it for any of us. He never intended for you to perambulate your life. His word then for worn-out Christians? "As you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so continue to live in him." (Col. 2:6) But how do we receive Christ? The same way we live in him – by coming thirsty, drinking deeply, and often. When you do, saving power becomes staying power. "God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on that day when Christ Jesus comes back again." (Phil. 1:6)

Christ didn’t give you a car and tell you to push it. He didn't even give you a car and tell you to drive it. You know what he did? He threw open the passenger door, invited you to take a seat, and told you to buckle up for the ride of your life. When Christ enters the Tuckered Towns of this world, he stands at the intersection of Exhaustion and Defeated avenues and says, "'If you’re thirsty, come to me! If you believe in me, come and drink! Because the Scriptures declare that rivers of living water will flow out from within.' (When he said 'living water,' he was speaking of the Spirit, who would be given to everyone believing in him)." (John 7:37-39) "Come to me," Jesus says. Not "come to my church," or "come to my system," or “come to my religion.” But "come to me!" Come to him and drink. No sipping. No tasting. It's time to take a long, thirst-quenching drink because thirsty throats gulp water. And thirsty souls guzzle Christ.

The margin notes of this same scripture in the New American Standard Bible state: "Keep coming to Me and . . . keep drinking." In other words, annual fill-ups or monthly sips just won't do. You aren't sampling wine at a Temecula vineyard. You're hiking through the Mojave desert. And that mirage you see? It’s not a mirage at all, but is the very river of water that you need. So, dive in and drink. And as you do, look what happens – “rivers of living water will flow out from within." (John 7:38)

The word for “rivers” can be translated “floods.” (See, Matt. 7:25, 27; Rev. 12:15-16) And we've all seen torrents of water strong enough to wash whole houses away. Newscasts run and re-run images of a house and other stuff floating downstream. So what’s the force that can float a house down a raging river? It’s a force that’s smaller than the power who floods you. "He was speaking of the Spirit, who would be given to everyone believing in him." (John 7:39) God's Spirit. God's powerful, unseen, undeniable presence pulsating through heart canals. A "spring of water gushing up inside that person, giving eternal life." (John 4:14) God's Spirit rages within you. Whether you feel him or not is unimportant. Whether you understand him is insignificant. Jesus said, "Living water will flow out from within." (7:38) Not "may flow," "could flow," or "has been known to flow." But, "will flow."

If that’s the case, then why are we so weary and irritable? If God's Spirit lives within us, why do we have the compassion of a boat anchor? We can't tolerate our co-workers, control our tempers or forgive ourselves. And we’re tired. But God through Paul answers that question with five rich words: "Be filled with the Spirit." (Eph. 5:18) In fact, the verb tense would have caused original readers to see capital letters: BE FILLED. With the same imperative that he instructs, "Forgive," "Pray," and "Speak truth," God commands, "BE FILLED."

And not only does Paul give a command; he gives a continuous, collective command. Continuous in the sense that the filling is a daily privilege. Collective because the invitation is offered to all people. "You all be filled with the Spirit." Young, old, servants, businessmen, seasoned saints, and new converts. The Spirit will fill all. No test is required. You don't need to persuade him to enter; he already has. In other words, you’ve got company. "Your body is a temple for the Holy Spirit who is in you." (1 Cor. 6:19)

As a Christian, you have all the power you need for all the problems you face. The real question then is not, “How do I get more of the Spirit?” The real question is, “How can you, Spirit, have more of me?” And we'd probably expect a Mother Teresa-sized answer to that question, i.e., answers like build an orphanage, memorize the book of Leviticus, or bathe lepers. Do that and be filled, we think. "Do this on your own and be tired," God corrects. So do you desire God's Spirit? Well, here’s what you do. Ask.

"Everyone who asks will receive. . . . You know how to give good things to your children. How much more your heavenly Father will give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!" (Luke 11:10, 13) The Spirit fills as prayers flow. Do you want to be filled with strength? Then pray, "Lord, empowered by your Holy Spirit, I can do all things through Christ, who gives me strength." (Phil. 4:13) Welcome the Spirit into every room of your heart.

I did something similar with the air of my air conditioner this past summer. Outside, the sidewalk had been sizzling in brick-oven heat during the day. But as I stepped inside my house, I was as cool as the other side of the pillow. Why? Well, two reasons, really. One is that an air conditioner sits next to the house. I didn’t build it. I didn’t install it. It came with the mortgage. But when it’s on, credit the cool house on a good air conditioner. But you have to give equal credit to the open vents. I did not install the cool air maker, but I did open the air blockers. Cool air fills the house because the vents are open. It wasn’t very complicated, either. I just went from room to room and adjusted the levers to release the air.

The Holy Spirit will fill your life as you do the same. Room by room, invite him to flow in. Try this. Before you climb out of bed tomorrow morning, mentally escort the Spirit into every room of your house or apartment. Before your feet touch the floor, open each vent. Got anger in a bedroom? Unpayable bills on a desk in the study? Conflicts in the kitchen? Need some air in the family room, or a change of atmosphere in the hallway? Invite him to fill each corridor and room of your life. Then, having welcomed him into your whole heart, go to your garage, climb into the passenger seat, buckle up and thank your Driver that you don't live in Tuckered Town anymore.

Grace,

Randy

Grace-Defined

 

Grace-Defined

Grace-Defined - Audio/Visual

I am shocked that you are turning away so soon from God, who in his love and mercy called you to share the eternal life he gives through Christ. You are already following a different way that pretends to be the Good News but is not the Good News at all. You are being fooled by those who twist and change the truth concerning Christ. . . . And yet we Jewish Christians know that we become right with God, not by doing what the law commands, but by faith in Jesus Christ. So we have believed in Christ Jesus, that we might be accepted by God because of our faith in Christ – and not because we have obeyed the law. For no one will ever be saved by obeying the law. (Gal. 1:6-7; 2:16)

The prodigal son trudges along the dusty road toward home. His smell makes passersby hold their noses and walk wide circles around him but he doesn't notice; he doesn’t care. Eyes to the ground, he rehearses his speech: "Father," his voice barely audible, “I have sinned against heaven and against you. I'm not worthy to be called your son." He rehashes his confession over and over again, wondering if he should say more, less, or simply make a U-turn back to the pigpen. After all, he’d cashed in the trust fund and trashed the family name. Over the last year, he'd awakened with more parched throats, headaches, women and tattoos than a Hollywood rock star. How could his father ever forgive him? “Maybe I could offer to pay off the credit cards,” he thinks. He's so focused on penance-planning that he fails to hear the sound of his father sprinting toward him. The dad embraces his mud-layered boy as if he were a returning war hero. He tells the servants to bring a robe, a ring and some sandals as if to say, "No boy of mine is going to look like Pigpen. Fire up the grill. Bring on the drinks. It's time to celebrate!"

Meanwhile, big brother stands on the porch and sulks. "No one ever gave me a party," he mumbles, arms crossed. The father tries to explain, but the jealous son won't listen. He huffs and shrugs and grumbles something about cheap grace, saddles his high horse and rides off. But you knew that, right? You've read the parable of the prodigal son. (Luke 15:11-32) But did you read what happened next? It's a real page-turner, but here’s a summary.

The older brother resolves to rain on the forgiveness parade. If Dad won't exact justice on the kid, then he will. "Nice robe there, little brother," he tells him one day. "Better keep it clean. One spot and Dad will send you to the cleaners with it." The younger brother waves him away. But the next time he sees his father he quickly checks his robe for stains. A few days later big brother warns him about the ring. "Quite a piece of jewelry Dad gave you, bro. But he prefers that you wear it on your thumb." "My thumb? He didn't tell me that." "Well, some things you're just supposed to know." "But it won't fit my thumb." "What's your goal – pleasing our father or your own personal comfort?" the spirituality monitor chirps as he walks away. But big brother isn't finished. With the pleasantness of an IRS agent, he taunts, "If Dad sees you with loose straps, he'll take those fancy sandals back." "He will not. They were a gift. He wouldn't . . . would he?" The ex-prodigal then leans over to tighten the straps. As he does, he spots a smudge on his robe. Trying to rub it off, he realizes the ring is on a finger, not his thumb. And that's when he hears his father say, "Hello, son." And there the boy sits, wearing a spotted robe, loose laces and a misplaced ring. Overcome with fear, he reacts with a "Sorry, Dad," and runs away.

Too many tasks. Keeping the robe spotless, the ring positioned, the sandals snug – who could meet those kinds of standards? Gift preservation begins to wear on the young man. So, he avoids the father he feels he can't please, quits wearing the gifts he can't maintain and even begins longing for the simpler days of the pigpen. "No one hounded me there," he thinks. So, that kind of summarizes it. What? You don’t recall reading that part? Well, it’s on page 1,199 of my Bible, in the book of Galatians.

Thanks to some legalistic big brothers, Paul's readers had gone from grace-receiving to law-keeping. Their Christian life had taken on the same level of joy as a colonoscopy, and Paul was puzzled. “I am shocked that you are turning away so soon from God, who in his love and mercy called you to share the eternal life he gives through Christ. You are already following a different way that pretends to be the Good News, but is not the Good News at all. You are being fooled by those who twist and change the truth concerning Christ. . . . And yet we Jewish Christians know that we become right with God, not by doing what the law commands, but by faith in Jesus Christ. So we have believed in Christ Jesus, that we might be accepted by God because of our faith in Christ – and not because we have obeyed the law. For no one will ever be saved by obeying the law.” (Gal. 1:6-7; 2:16)

Joy snatchers had infiltrated the Roman church, too. So, Paul had to remind them as well, "But people are declared righteous because of their faith, not because of their work." (Rom. 4:5) And Philippian Christians had heard the same foolishness. Big brothers weren't telling them to wear a ring on their thumb, but they were insisting that the men had to be circumcised to be saved. (Phil. 3:2) Even the Jerusalem church, the flagship, heard the solemn monotones of the Quality Control Board – where non-Jewish believers were being told, "You cannot be saved if you are not circumcised as Moses taught us." (Acts 15:1) It was everywhere, and the churches were suffering from the same malady: grace gridlock. The Father might let you in the gate, but you have to earn your place at the table. God makes the down payment on your redemption, but you pay the monthly installments. Heaven gives you the boat, but you have to row it if you ever want to see the other shore. Grace gridlock. Taste, but don't drink. Wet your lips, but never quench your thirst. Can you imagine a sign like that over a fountain? "No swallowing, please. Fill your mouth but not your stomach." That’s crazy. What good is water if you can't swallow it?

And what good is grace if you don't let it reach deep? For instance, what image best describes your heart? A water-drenched kid dancing in front of an open fire hydrant, or a desert tumbleweed? Here’s how you know. Does God's grace define you? Deeply flowing grace clarifies, once and for all, who we are. But God is so rich in mercy, and he loved us so very much, that even while we were dead because of our sins, he gave us life when he raised Christ from the dead. (It is only by God's special favor that you have been saved!) For he raised us from the dead along with Christ, and we are seated with him in the heavenly realms – all because we are one with Christ Jesus. And so God can always point to us as examples of the incredible wealth of his favor and kindness toward us, as shown in all he has done for us through Christ Jesus. God saved you by his special favor when you believed. And you can't take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it. (Eph. 2:4-9) Look how grace defines us. We are spiritually alive: "he gave us life" (v. 5); heavenly positioned: "seated with him in the heavenly realms" (v. 6); connected to God: "one with Christ Jesus" (v. 6); billboards of mercy: "examples of the incredible wealth of his favor and kindness toward us" (v. 7); and honored children: "God saved you by his special favor." (v. 8)

Grace defines you. As grace sinks in, earthly labels begin to fade. Society labels you like a can on a grocery shelf. Stupid. Unproductive. Slow learner. Fast talker. Quitter. Cheapskate. But as grace infiltrates, criticisms begin to disintegrate. You know you aren't who they say you are, because you are who God says you are. Spiritually alive. Heavenly positioned. Connected to the Father. A billboard of mercy. An honored child. Of course, not all labels are negative. Some people regard you as handsome, beautiful, clever, successful, or maybe efficient. But even a White House office doesn't compare with being "seated with him in the heavenly realms." Grace creates the Christian's résumé. It certainly did for Mephibosheth.

Talk about a redefined life. After assuming the throne of Saul, "David began wondering if anyone in Saul's family was still alive, for he had promised Jonathan that he would show kindness to them." (2 Sam. 9:1) The Philistines, you'll remember, defeated Saul in battle. After the smoke of conflict passed, David sought to display mercy to Saul's descendants. A servant named Ziba remembered: "Yes, one of Jonathan's sons is still alive, but he’s crippled." (v. 3) No name offered. Just his handicap. Labeled by misfortune. An earlier chapter revealed the mishap. When word of Saul's and Jonathan's deaths reached the capital, a nurse in Jonathan's house swept up his five-year-old boy and fled. But in her haste, she stumbled and dropped him, crippling the boy in both feet. So where does Mephibosheth turn? Can't walk. Can't work. Father and grandfather dead. Where can the crippled grandson of a failed leader go?

How about Lo-debar. Sounds like a place that charm forgot. Like Notrees, Texas, or Weed, California, or Nothing, Arizona, or maybe Accident, Maryland. Lo-debar, Israel. Appropriate place for Mephibosheth. Stuck with a name longer than his arm. Dropped like a cantaloupe from a wet paper sack. How low can you go? Low enough to end up living in the low-rent district of Lo-debar. And maybe you know its streets. If you've ever been dropped, you do. Dropped from the list. Dropped by a guy. Dropped by the team. Dropped at the orphanage. And now you walk with a limp. People don't remember your name, but they remember your pain. "He's the alcoholic." "Oh, I remember her = the widow." "You mean the divorced woman from Nowheresville?" "No. Lo-debarville." You live labeled.

But then something Cinderella-like happens. The king's men knock on your Lo-debar door. They load you in a wagon and carry you into the presence of the king. You assume the worst and begin praying for a quick execution. But the servants don't drop you off at the gallows; they set you at the king's table, and right above your plate sits a placard with your name on it. "And from that time on, Mephibosheth ate regularly with David, as though he were one of his own sons." (2 Sam. 9:11)

From Lo-debar to the palace; from obscurity to royalty; from no future to the king's table. Quite a move for Mephibosheth. And quite a reminder for us, because he models our journey. God lifted us from the dead-end streets of Lo-debarville and sat us at his table. "We are seated with him in the heavenly realms." (Eph. 2:6) Meditate on that verse. Next time the arid desert winds blow, defining you by yesterday's struggles, reach for God's goblet of grace and drink. Grace defines who you are. The parent you can't please is just as mistaken as the doting uncle you can't disappoint. People hold no clout; only God does. And according to him, you are his. Period. "For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so that we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." (Eph. 2:10)

Suppose Mephibosheth had seen this verse. Imagine someone back in the Lo-debar days telling him, "Don't be discouraged, friend. I know you can't dance or run. Others kick the soccer ball, and you're stuck here staring out the window. But listen, God wrote your story. He cast you in his drama. Three thousand years from now your story will stir an image of grace for some readers in the 21^st century." Would he have believed it? I don't know. But I hope you will. You hang as God's work of art, a testimony in his gallery of grace.

Over a hundred years ago, a group of fishermen were relaxing in the dining room of a Scottish seaside inn, trading fish stories. One of the men gestured widely, depicting the size of the proverbial fish that got away. His arm struck the server’s tea tray sending the teapot flying into the whitewashed wall where its contents left an irregular brown splotch. The innkeeper surveyed the damage and sighed, "The whole wall will have to be repainted." "Perhaps not," offered a stranger. "Let me work with it." Having nothing to lose, the proprietor consented. The man pulled pencils, brushes, some jars of linseed oil and pigment out of an art box. He sketched lines around the stains and dabbed shades and colors throughout the splashes of tea. In time, an image began to emerge: a stag with a great rack of antlers. The man inscribed his signature at the bottom, paid for his meal and left. His name was Sir Edwin Landseer, the famous painter of wildlife. In his hands, a mistake had become a masterpiece.

God's hands do the same, over and over. He draws together the disjointed blotches in our life and renders them an expression of his love. We become pictures: "examples of the incredible wealth of his favor and kindness toward us." (Eph. 2:7) Who determines your identity? What defines you? The day you were dropped? Or the day you were carried to the King's table? Receive God’s work. Drink deeply from his well of grace. As grace sinks into your soul, Lo-debar will become a dot in the rearview mirror. Dark days will define you no more. You’re in the palace now. And now you know what to say to the big brothers of this world. No need for frantic robe cleaning, or rules for ring wearing. Your deeds don’t save you. And your deeds won’t keep you saved. Grace does.

So, the next time big brother starts dispensing more snarls than a bunch of hungry Rottweilers, loosen your sandals, set your ring on your finger, and quote the apostle of grace who said, “By the grace of God I am what I am.” (1 Cor. 15:10) Grace-defined.

Grace,

Randy

Thanks-living

 

Thanks-living

Thanks-living - Audio/Visual

Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance and called out in a loud voice, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!”

When he saw them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were cleansed.

One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him — and he was a Samaritan.

Jesus asked, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.” (Luke 17:11-19)

It’s a tribute to modern medicine that most of us, fortunately, don’t know much about leprosy. So what we know about the disease we only know from what we’ve read in the Bible, unless you want to Google it. But if we had lived during Biblical times, we probably would have known a whole lot more because it was the most feared disease in its day. It was deadly, incurable and hopeless. The ancients feared it so much that anyone suspected of having the disease was banished from society. In fact, in the rabbinic writings of the time there are remedies for all kinds of diseases, but there’s nothing listed for leprosy. The rabbis said that curing leprosy was like “raising the dead.” Pretty grim stuff.

So, there’s Jesus, traveling near the border of Samaria and Galilee, and it’s there where he meets a group of lepers. We don’t know precisely where this encounter took place because you can’t even find the small town on a map. But it was somewhere south of Nazareth and north of Sychar. And it’s no surprise that Jesus would encounter these unfortunate men between Galilee and Samaria. Galilee was Jesus’ home base. He was raised there. He had family and boyhood friends there. He made his headquarters at Capernaum on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. Most of his miracles, and much of his teaching was done in Galilee. It was the land of his greatest popularity. But Samaria? Well, that was another matter altogether.

You see, observant Jews avoided Samaria at almost all costs. The story goes back hundreds of years to the Assyrian captivity which began in 722 B.C. Some of the Jewish people had intermarried with the Assyrians and had become, in the eyes of their countrymen, half-breeds and traitors. In other words, they were unclean. Over the centuries, then, the Samaritans had become a mixed race with a mixed religion. The Jewish people hated the Samaritans, and the Samaritans’ feelings were mutual.

And it’s here, on the frontier between Galilee and Samaria, in the DMZ between the Jews and the Samaritans, that Jesus meets ten lepers. And frankly, where else could they go? The Jews didn’t want them and neither did the Samaritans. So, here’s a colony of lepers joined by their common misfortune and misery. Their only uniting characteristic is the foul disease that had cast them out of society. And as Jesus enters the village, these men stand a long way off and cry out to him for mercy.

The word had spread. "He’s here,” said one of the lepers. “Who’s here?” said the other. “Jesus of Nazareth,” said the first. “Do you think he could heal us?” said another. “I don’t know, but let’s find out.” So, there they stand; the most ragged choir in all of Israel – ten lepers crying out to Jesus for mercy. “Have mercy. Have Mercy,” came the cry from lips that had seen too little mercy and too much condemnation. So what’s Jesus’ response? Will he heal them right then and there on the spot? That was certainly within his power, and no doubt was what the lepers had probably hoped he would do. But, instead, Jesus said something that, well, seems a little unexpected. When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.”

Now, at first glance you might think that Jesus was simply blowing them off. You might even think that he didn’t intend to heal them at all. And if you were to come to that conclusion, you could probably infer that Jesus meant to impress upon them the utter hopelessness of their condition. But all of those inferences would be wrong. As a matter of fact, Jesus fully intended to heal them, but he also intended to do it in keeping with the demands of the Law of Moses since if Jesus hadn’t sent the lepers to the priest, no one would have ever believed that the miracle had taken place at all.

But that’s not the whole story here. The last part of verse 14 says that “as they went they were cleansed.” In other words, they were healed as they went to go see the priest. Not before. Not after. That means that when they left to go see the priest, they still had leprosy. Now how do you suppose they felt when Jesus said, “Go show yourselves to the priest?” Go show what to the priest? That they were still lepers? Really? They didn’t have anything to show the priest that he wanted to see. In fact, the last thing the priest wanted to see was ten smelly, disheveled, deformed and wretched lepers. In fact, I wonder if one of them may have even said, “Why bother?” But off they went, this shuffling band of sufferers marching off to see the priest, maybe even doubting their healing the entire way.

So they take one step – they’re still lepers. They take two steps – nothing happens. They take a third step – the leprosy still clings to their skin. But on that fourth step, or maybe the fifth, or maybe the hundredth, something wonderful, something unbelievable, something they never dreamed possible happened. With that next step, they were healed. Instantly. Miraculously. All ten. All at once. They were healed as they went. Not before. Not after. But in the act of going they were healed. Why? Because it was the act of going that was an act of their faith. And it didn’t matter how they felt about it. God honored their going in spite of what may have been some serious doubts along the way.

Like the lepers, our faith moves mountains when our faith moves us. When Jesus said, “Go show yourselves to the priest,” he was really saying, “Act as if you’re already healed.” What a great piece of advice. So many times we pray and pray and pray and nothing seems to happen. But when our faith, shaky though it may be, finally moves us to action God honors it and answers begin to come. Unfortunately, too many of us are trapped by the curse of passive religion. You know what that is, don’t you? It’s the view that says trusting God means letting him do it all. So, for instance, we pray, “Lord, I need money,” but we refuse to go out and look for a job. Passive religion uses God as an excuse to do nothing. But trusting God does not equal doing nothing. Remember: the ten lepers were healed as they went. It’s a marvelous miracle, but it’s not the end of the story. Another miracle is about to happen.

Ten were healed and only one came back to give thanks. Luke says he fell on his face before the Lord. He’s been healed of leprosy. For who knows how many years he’s been a leper living in his remote, little corner of the world, separated from his family, forgotten by his friends, cut off from his own people. But suddenly the disease vanishes and with it the twisted limp, the crooked fingers and the atrophied muscles. Then Luke adds, “He was a Samaritan.” The shock and amazement in that statement is such that we ought to read it this way: “Think of that! A Samaritan of all people.” Remember, Jesus was a Jew and the Jews thought Samaritans were half-breed traitors. To make matters worse, he was a Samaritan and a leper. To a Jew, you couldn’t find a more repulsive combination. He was from the wrong race, with the wrong religion and he had the worst-possible disease. In religious speak, this Samaritan knew almost nothing, and what he knew was mostly wrong. But he knew Jesus had healed him, and he knew enough to be grateful to God.

Now, Luke doesn’t say so directly but I think he may have also been implying that the other nine were Jews. And if that’s true, then what this story really means is that those who should have been the most grateful weren’t. And the one man who shouldn’t have come back did. And this story pictures life as it really is. It’s a picture of the abundant grace of God. I mean, this is a wholesale cure – a whole hospital’s healed with only a word. Ten at a time. It’s a huge miracle. It’s also a picture of the prevalence of ingratitude. Nine out ten people will probably forget almost every blessing they’ve ever received. But it’s also a picture of unexpected grace. Grateful hearts, it seems, pop up where you least expect them.

Jesus then asks the Samaritan three questions. “Were there not ten healed?” Yes. “Where are the other nine?” Gone. “Is there no one here but this foreigner?” No one. And if you listen carefully, you can even sense, perhaps, a tinge of sadness in Jesus’ voice. He wanted to know about the others. Where are they? Weren’t they healed? Why didn’t they come back and say, “Thank You"? Good question. So, why didn’t they come back? Well, maybe they were in a hurry to see the priest. Or, maybe they thought Jesus would be gone when they got back. Perhaps they assumed Jesus knew how grateful they were and they didn’t need to tell him what he already knew. I mean, he’s God after all. Or, maybe they were just too busy. So where are they now? Gone off with their blessings. Gone to see the priest. Gone to see their families. Gone with no word of thanks. Gone.

But when you really look at these ten lepers, they’re all alike aren’t they? All had leprosy. All were outcasts from society. All were determined to do something about it. All had heard about Jesus and believed he could help them. All appealed to him. All obeyed his word. All were healed. So, on the surface they appear to be identical. Yet what a difference. One returned. Nine went on. One was grateful. Nine were not. One man found forgiveness. Nine didn’t. One man got two miracles. Nine got one. All ten were healed. (That’s one miracle) But the Samaritan was healed and forgiven. (That’s two miracles) And I think that’s what Jesus meant when he said, “Your faith has made you well” – well, spiritually. So, where are the nine? The answer is they got what they wanted and then promptly left the building. Jesus performed a mighty miracle for them and they said, “Thanks, Lord. We can take it from here.” Sadly, that kind of attitude can be found in each one of us, even those who were raised in the church. The reason? Because we have so little appreciation for what God has done for us. We just don’t love the Lord that much, or just not enough to express gratitude for his blessings.

But isn’t gratitude the highest duty of the believer and the supreme virtue – the fountain from which all other blessings flow? Yes. But its corollary, ingratitude, is the leprosy of the soul. It eats away from the inside. It destroys our happiness, cripples our joy, withers our compassion, paralyzes our praise and renders us completely numb to all the blessings of God.

Every good thing in the Christian life flows from gratitude, or thankfulness. And when I realize the goodness of God – not in the abstract or in the theoretical, but personally – then, and only then, am I free to go, free to pray, free to tell, free to do, free to be. I don’t need to be coerced. I don’t need to be pressured. When we can finally look and see what God has done; when we can count our many blessings and name them one by one; when we can understand that every good and perfect gift comes down from the Father above; when we can see that life itself comes gift-wrapped from on high; when we know, really know, that all of life is God’s grace … then we begin to praise; we begin to give; we begin to sing; we begin to tell; we begin to serve; we begin to enter into the “Abundant Life.”

When we finally understand that we were born lepers, and then we see what Jesus has done for us, and when it finally breaks through that only by the grace of God do we have anything valuable at all, only then does life really begin to change. At that point, wonderful things begin to happen to us. What was duty is now privilege. What was law is now grace. What was demanded is now volunteered. What was forced is now free. What was drudgery is now joy. What was taken for granted is now offered up in praise to God. When it finally breaks through to us, then we come running, gladly, just like the leper.

Ten men were healed that day, but only one came back to give thanks. Which one are you? Far too many of us take our blessings for granted and groan about duties. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Praise is a choice. A thankful heart is a choice you make. No one is forced into bitterness. You choose the way you live. The one who returned to give thanks chose not to forget what Jesus had done for him. The secret then of a thankful heart is a conscious choice not to forget what God has done for you. That’s called, “Thanks-living.”

Grace,

Randy