Quit Keeping Score

 

Quit Keeping Score

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith — and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God — not by works, so that no one can boast. (Eph. 2:8-9)

I used to coach T-ball, emphasis on “used to.” Teaching five-year-olds an organized sport can be rewarding among other adjectives like “cute” and “frustrating.” Getting a group of kindergartners together presents more than just a single challenge. And good luck if your goal is to get them to act in any sort of organized manner during a practice. Having a common purpose is virtually impossible for five-year-olds. It occurred to me, however, that T-ball is the one sport that’s all about grace. Unlike baseball, or pretty much any other team sport, the rules are pretty simple: (1) when it’s your turn at bat, you can't strike out – you just keep swinging until you hit the ball; (2) an inning is over after three outs, or after everyone gets a turn at bat, whichever occurs last; (3) everybody plays the whole game; and (4) when the game's over, everyone gets a snow cone. Those were the days. But you don’t have to be much older than a kindergartner to know what it’s like to lose. Just ask Peter.

Peter, like that athlete on the old Wide World of Sports telecast, enjoyed the thrill of victory but he also experienced the agony of defeat. He was a fisherman and lived with his wife in Capernaum where they shared a house with his mother-in-law and his brother, Andrew. He and Andrew had their own boat and were in the fishing business with a couple of partners named James and John, Zebedee's sons. The first time Jesus laid eyes on him, he took one look at Peter and said, "So, you're Simon, the son of John." (John 1:42) And then Jesus said that from then on he'd call him Cephas, which is Aramaic for Peter, which is Greek for rock, or pebble. He could stop fishing for fish, Jesus told him. He'd been promoted. From there on out, people were to be his business, and now he could start fishing for people.

And Peter certainly experienced the thrill of victory in this business of being a disciple. For instance, there were all these half-baked ideas about who Jesus was. So, Jesus asked his disciples straight out: "Who do you say that I am?" Nobody wanted to stick their neck out and answer that one. Well, nobody that is except for good ol’ Peter. "You’re the Christ, the Son of the living God," Peter said, to which Jesus responded by blessing him and then telling Peter that it was that very confession upon which Jesus would build his church. Victory.

But Peter also knew the agony of defeat. He didn't always say or do the right thing. One time Jesus was talking about heaven, and Peter wanted to know what sort of special deal he was going to get. But Jesus took it easy on him since a “rock” can't help being a little dense sometimes. And then there was their last supper together. Jesus was explaining that he would have to be going soon, but Peter didn't quite get it. So, Jesus explained that he was going where nobody on earth could follow him. Peter finally seemed to get it, but then he asked Jesus why he couldn't follow him. "I'll lay down my life for you," Peter said. Then Jesus said something to Peter that rocked his world: "Listen, Peter, the rooster won't crow until you've betrayed me three times."

And Jesus was right, of course. After Jesus was arrested, Peter was sitting out there in the courtyard keeping warm by the fire when a girl, and later others, came up to ask him on three separate occasions if he really wasn't one of Jesus’ disciples. And Peter’s response? “What in God’s name are you talking about? I don’t even know the guy.” Then the old rooster crowed at the rising sun and tears began to rain, turning the “rock” into a mudslide.

Peter knew what it's like to be a winner, and he also knew what it's like to be a loser. But everybody's a winner in T-ball. Do you know why everyone's a winner in T-ball? Because you don't keep score. Most of the time, sports are all about no second chances. There are clear winners and clear losers. There are the ones who start and play most of the time, and there are the ones who almost never get to play. There are the ones who get picked first, and there are the ones who’re picked last. Most of the time, sports are about no second chances.

A lot of us would like to live in a world where when we go to church we’d never have to hear Christians confessing their sin. The problem is that each of us has a story, and all of our stories include the truth that we’re guilty; that we’ve betrayed our Lord. So, if you're at home and keeping score, we’re losing and we won’t be getting a snow cone. But the thing is, we don't have to let our guilt and our shame and our failures destroy us. Peter proved that. Yes, the disciple with the foot-shaped mouth.

The Sabbath was over and Mary Magdalene and two other women were going to anoint Jesus' body. So, early on the first day of the week, just before sunrise, they were on the way to the tomb. They were wondering while they walked how they were going to roll the big stone away from the entrance to the tomb. But when they got there, the stone had already been rolled away, and an angel was there who told them that if they were looking for Jesus of Nazareth they’d come to the wrong place. He’d risen. He wasn't there. And then in Mark 16:7, there’s this great line. The angel tells the women, "But go, tell his disciples, and Peter, that he is going before you to Galilee." In other words, “Don't just stand there, ladies. Get going and tell the disciples – especially Peter – that he’s risen and will meet you in Galilee.

You see, Peter didn't let his despair destroy him; somehow he kept going. And then we have this great line in Mark’s gospel. The tomb was empty, Jesus was alive and the angel tells Mary Magdalene and the others to go tell the disciples – and particularly Peter. It's as if even the angel was saying: "Be sure to tell Peter that he's not left out. Tell him that Jesus still wants to see him."

No wonder they call it the gospel of the second chance. Peter betrayed Jesus by something he said, just like you and I sometimes betray Jesus by the things we say and do – or by things we don't say and don't do. But Jesus wanted Peter, in particular, to know that he was alive. Peter got a second chance. Even the angel wanted Peter to know that it wasn't over. The message was loud and clear: be sure and tell Peter that even though he swung and missed, he didn’t strike out. He gets to swing again. And in less than seven weeks’ time, Peter took another swing and this time hit a grand slam at Pentecost and became one of the leaders of the early Christian church where 3,000 people were saved on that day alone.

Recently, rumor had spread that a woman was having visions of Jesus. The reports reached a preacher, and he decided to check her out since, in his opinion, there’s a fine line that separates the real from the lunatic fringe. "Is it true, ma'am, that you’ve had visions of Jesus?" “Yes," replied the woman. "Well, the next time you have one of those visions, I want you to ask Jesus to tell you the sins I confessed last night." "Did I hear you right? You actually want me to ask Jesus to tell me the sins of your past?" "Exactly. So, please call me if anything happens, alright?" “Alright,” said the woman.

Ten days later, the woman informed the preacher of a recent appearance. "Please come," she said. Within the hour, the preacher arrived. "Now, you just told me over the phone a few moments ago that you actually had a vision of Jesus, right?” “Yes,” she replied. “Well, did you do what I asked?" "Yes, I asked Jesus to tell me the sins you confessed the night before our first visit," she replied. The preacher leaned forward with anticipation, his eyes wide with expectancy. "Well, what did Jesus say?" She took his hand, gazed deeply into his eyes and said, “These were Jesus’ exact words: 'I can’t remember.'"

Robert Fulghum, in his book All I Really Need to Know I learned in Kindergarten, listed some things he learned when he was in kindergarten. Things like share everything; play fair; don't hit people; don't take things that aren't yours; say you're sorry when you hurt somebody; and when you go out in the world, watch out for traffic – hold hands and stick together. So lately, I’ve been going over what I’d say if I were coaching T-ball again. I think I’d say stuff like, "Honestly, Johnny, I really don't know the score." Or "Come on Katy, keep swinging until you hit that ball." Maybe even, "Get out on that field, Evan – everyone gets to play." Perhaps "Don’t you know that everybody's a winner, Crystal?" And definitely, "Snow cones for everyone.” But I’m still working on this one, "It's all about grace, Randy."

And therein lies the problem, i.e., working. Working at grace isn’t going to get me there. But if that’s the problem, then what’s the solution? It’s seeing grace as a gift, not as a reward. You see, working at grace is not going to get any of us to heaven. But it is grace that will get us working. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith – and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God – not by works, so that no one can boast. (Eph. 2:8-9) Jesus said, “’I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven.’” (Matt. 18:3)  Kids, schmids. What do kindergartners know, anyway? Well, quite a bit actually.

They know that when you get up to bat, you can't strike out, and that everyone gets to play – all the time. And the score? They don’t care since everybody gets a snow cone at the end of the game anyway. And if you’re a child of God, you can’t strike out and you’re in the game until it’s over. More importantly, the score’s inconsequential because Jesus settled that one a long time ago. So, quit keeping score and get in the game. You can’t lose.

Grace,

Randy

Maybe It's Time to Admit Your Faults

 

Maybe It’s Time to Admit Your Faults

Maybe It's Time to Admit Your Faults - Audio/Visual 

The Lord is compassionate and merciful, very patient, and full of faithful love. God won’t always play the judge; he won’t be angry forever. He doesn’t deal with us according to our sin or repay us according to our wrongdoing, because as high as heaven is above the earth, that’s how large God’s faithful love is for those who honor him. As far as east is from west — that’s how far God has removed our sin from us. (Psalm 103:8-12)

What would the Vatican give for the Pope’s name? That was Rogers’ question because upon the death of Pope John Paul, Rogers Cadenhead, a self-described “domain hoarder,” registered www.BenedictXVI.com before the new Pope’s name was even announced. In other words, Cadenhead had secured the domain name before Rome even knew they needed it. And a sought-after domain name can prove very lucrative. For instance, another name, www.PopeBenedictXVI.com, sold for more than $16,000.00 on E-bay. Cadenhead, however, didn’t want the money. A Catholic himself, he was happy for the church to own the name. “I’m going to try and avoid angering 1.1 billion Catholics and my grandmother,” he quipped. He did want something in return, however. In exchange for the domain name, Cadenhead asked for: (1) “one of those hats;” (2) “a free stay at the Vatican hotel;” and (3) “complete absolution, no questions asked, for the third week of March, 1987.” It makes you wonder what happened that third week of March. Maybe it was Spring Break.

Does it remind you of a week of your own like that? Most of us have one … or more. A folly-filled summer, a month off-track, days gone wild. If a box of flash drives existed that documented every second of your life, which one of those thumb drives would you destroy? Do you have a season in which you indulged, imbibed or even inhaled? King David did.

Could a collapse be more complete than his? He seduces and impregnates Bathsheba, murders her husband and deceives his general and soldiers. Then he marries her and she bears the child. The cover-up appears complete. The casual observer didn’t even know. David has a new wife, and a happy life. All seems well on the throne. But all is not well in David’s heart. Guilt simmers. He later describes this season of secret sin in pretty grim terms: When I kept it all inside, my bones turned to powder, my words became daylong groans. The pressure never let up; all the juices of my life dried up. (Ps. 32:3–4)

David’s a wreck. His “third week of March” stalks him like a pack of wolves. He can’t escape it. Why? Because God keeps bringing it up. Underline the last verse of 2 Samuel chapter 11: “The thing that David had done displeased the Lord.” (v. 27) With these words the narrator introduces a new character into the David and Bathsheba drama: God. Because thus far, God’s been completely absent from the text, and unmentioned in the story. David seduces – no mention of God. David plots – no mention of God. Uriah buried, Bathsheba married – no mention of God. God is not spoken to, nor does he speak. And the first half of verse 27 lures us into a false “happy ending” because Bathsheba “became David’s wife and gave birth to his son.” In other words, they’d decorated the nursery and picked names out of a magazine. Nine months pass, and a son is born. As a result, we conclude, “Well, it looks like David dodged a bullet.” Apparently the story got dropped in the “Boys Will Be boys” file. But just when we think so (and David hopes so), someone steps from behind the curtain and takes center stage. “The thing that David had done displeased the Lord.”

God won’t be silent any more. The name not mentioned until the final verse of 2^nd Samuel chapter 11, dominates chapter 12. David, the guy usually giving the orders, sits while God takes control. First step? God sends Nathan to David. Nathan is a prophet, a preacher, a White House chaplain of sorts. The man probably deserved a medal for going to the king because he knew what happened to Uriah – David had killed an innocent soldier. So, what’s he going to do with a confrontational preacher?

Still, Nathan goes. However, rather than declaring the deed, he relates a story about a poor man with one little sheep. David instantly connects with the story because he shepherded flocks before he led people. He knows poverty. He’s the youngest son of a family that was too poor at the time to even hire a shepherd. Nathan tells David how the poor shepherd loved this sheep – holding her in his own lap, feeding her from his own plate. She was all he had. And then enters, as the story goes, the rich jerk. A traveler stops by his mansion, so a party’s in order. But rather than slaughtering a sheep from his own flock, the rich man sends his bodyguards to steal the poor man’s little lamb. So, they Hummer onto his property, snatch the lamb and fire up the Traeger.

As David listens, the hair on the back of his neck starts to stand on end. He grips the arms of the throne and renders a verdict without so much as even having conducted a trial: “As surely as the Lord lives, the one who did this is demonic! He must restore the ewe lamb seven times over because he did this and because he had no compassion.” (12:5–6) David, David, David. You never saw it coming, did you? You never saw Nathan erecting the gallows or throwing the rope over the beam. You never felt him tie your hands behind your back, lead you up the steps and stand you squarely over the trap door. Only when he squeezed the noose around your neck did you gulp – only when Nathan tightened the rope with four three-letter words: “You are the man!” (12:7)

David’s face pales. A bead of sweat forms on his forehead. He slinks back in his chair. He makes no defense. He utters no response. He has nothing to say. God, however, is just getting started. Through Nathan, God said: I made you king over Israel. I freed you from the fist of Saul. I gave you your master’s daughter and other wives to have and to hold. I gave you both Israel and Judah. And if that hadn’t been enough, I’d have gladly thrown in much more. So why have you treated the word of God with such brazen contempt, doing this great evil? You murdered Uriah the Hittite, then took his wife as your wife. Worse, you killed him with an Ammonite sword! (12:7–9) Gulp.

But these words reflect hurt, not hate, don’t they? Bewilderment, not belittlement. Your flocks fill the hills, David. So why rob? Beauty populates your palace. So, why take it from someone else? Why would the wealthy steal? David has no excuse. So, God levies the sentence: Now, therefore, the sword will never depart from your house, because you despised me and took the wife of Uriah the Hittite to be your own. This is what the Lord says: “Out of your own household I am going to bring calamity upon you. Before your very eyes I will take your wives and give them to one who is close to you, and he will lie with your wives in broad daylight. You did it in secret, but I will do this thing in broad daylight before all Israel.” (12:10-12) And from that day forward, turmoil and tragedy marked David’s family. The child born of his adultery dies (12:18), and the surrounding nations begin to question the holiness of David’s God. David had soiled God’s reputation and blemished God’s honor. And God, who jealously guards his glory, punishes David’s secret sin in a very public way. And the king of Israel discovers the harsh truth of Numbers 32:23: “. . . you can be sure that your sin will track you down.”

Have you ever found that to be true? Does your “week of March, 1987” hound you? Infect you? Failures and colossal collapses just won’t leave us alone. Unconfessed sins sit on our hearts like festering boils – poisoning, expanding. And God applies the pressure to remove the seed of the boil from our lives: “The way of the transgressor is hard.” (Prov. 13:15) “Those who plow evil and sow trouble reap evil and trouble.” (Job 4:8) God takes your sleep, your peace. He takes your rest. Want to know why? Because he wants to take away your sin.

Can a mom sit idly by as sickness ravages her child? Well then, can God sit idly by as sin poisons his children? He will not rest until we do what David did: admit our faults. “Then David said to Nathan, ‘I have sinned against the Lord.’ Nathan replied, ‘The Lord has taken away your sin. You are not going to die.’” (2 Sam. 12:13) Interesting. David said the imaginary sheep stealer was worthy of death because that’s what they did with the demon-possessed. But God is far more merciful. He put away David’s sin. Rather than cover it up, he lifted it up and then put it away. As David would later reflect and then write, “As far as east is from west — that’s how far God has removed our sin from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him.” (Ps. 103:12–13)

It didn’t happen overnight, however. It took David a year. It took a surprise pregnancy, the death of a soldier, the persuasion of a preacher, and the probing and pressing of God, but David’s hard heart finally softened and he made his admission: “I have sinned against the Lord.” (2 Sam. 12:13) And God did with the sin what he does with yours and mine – he put it away.

Is there some sin in your past that you’ve yet to admit, confess and abandon? If so, there’s no better time than the present to get before the Lord and name that sin for what it is — spiritual rebellion, a slap in God’s face, a dark stain on the holy person God has made you to be. And then thank God that he has removed your guilt as far as the east is from the west and ask him for strength to not only avoid that sin in the future, but to gladly obey his counsel and his Word going forward. Actions will have their consequences (Gal. 6:7), just like David, but Jesus Christ absorbed the ultimate penalty for those sins by dying on the cross as the atoning sacrifice through which forgiveness for those sins has been extended. Saint Augustine summed it up this way: With a love for mankind and a hatred for sins.

Maybe it’s time for you to put your “third week of March, 1987” to rest. And you can do that by assembling a meeting of three parties: you, God and your memory. Place the mistake before the judgment seat of God. Let him condemn it; let him pardon it; and then let him put it away. Forever. He will. He said so. Maybe it’s time to admit your faults, because when does east ever meet west?

Grace,

Randy