We have a sweet display of crèches in the chancel of the Third Avenue church. Pastor Mike invited people to share their family nativity sets with the parish this Christmas season. Baby Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the shepherds and Wise Men are represented in various media: from porcelain to plaster-of-Paris, hand-carved wood to hand-cut paper. Most donors have left cards with a story belonging to the crèche. Some are treasured heirlooms, some gifts marking a special occasion. One was made by a group of 7- and 8-year-old boys just for this display. On Christmas Eve, we expect people to wander to the cancel to admire these beautiful depictions of the birth of our Savior Jesus.
As I admire the statues and stables, I notice among the young Marys a common feature. The maiden kneels before the manger with hands clasped to her heart…as if she’s trying to contain the matters of her son’s arrival, protecting all the memories surrounding the pregnancy and birth, keeping back the wonder of the miracle she’s experienced. She looks upon her child with gentle love, but she restrains the awe surrounding this monumental night.
Twice Luke’s Gospel tells us Mary “treasured all these things” (verses 2:19, 51). She set them as valuables in a storehouse, a place of safe-keeping. Verse 19 also tells us that she spent time “pondering them.” Mary reviewed the extraordinary events as most mothers do, questioning the future of her precious child. The word ponder comes from two words that mean union with or together and to throw [down]. In pondering the early events of Jesus’ life, Mary threw around the possibilities together with…? Whom?
With all that Mary had been through—an angel visitation, supernatural impregnation, broken engagement, unconsummated marriage, a 90-mile journey by donkey in her ninth month of pregnancy, and delivering her child in a barn—you’d think she would be prime for an appearance on Dr Phil. Common sense would indicate that Mary should not endure this ordeal in silence. Who could deny her the opportunity to vent, to rant, maybe even cash in on the story? She should have every opportunity to get it off her chest.
But that’s the very place Mary revered her circumstances. Luke says Mary held these extraordinary events in the safest place she knew—her heart. A private spot where she would review each moment and give each situation its rightful importance. Mary pondered these things in her heart, the place where God would join her in conversation.
Mary held all her circumstances in awe. She marveled at what was pronounced about her infant son. It amazed her that God would find her worthy of this sacred experience. Which, of course, explains why she found favor with God. Mary’s humility—the amazement that God would select a young, uneducated peasant girl to bear His Son—marked her as virtuous.
Humility distinguished Mary from other girls and women. It set her apart from many men and leaders of Jewish society. It was not a self-loathing or passive doormat state. Rather, it was the clear conviction that God was the source of any honor coming into her life. Mary knew that we earn no acclaim on our own. She understood that humility is recognition that without God, nothing we accomplish amounts to any good.
In a song of praise, Mary acknowledged God as her source: "For the Mighty One has done great things for me” (Luke 1:49). It was as if she were saying,
“He noticed me! I’m just a girl, but God my Savior has noticed me! I have nothing to offer Him, nothing that proves I am a person of worth. All I have is the quiet of my heart.”
In the quiet of her heart, God noticed Mary. He knew she “lacked” the world’s qualifications for worth: wealth, possessions, physical strength, leadership, education. But God was looking for something unique. He was looking for a heart that recognized its need for Him.
The proud heart has no room for God—it seeks its own glory. Its need is to be known, to tell its own story, to “get it off its chest.” Imagination springs from the proud heart and the story is embellished for the honor and adoration of the world.
How could such a heart be used in the mighty task of mothering God’s Only Son?
The humble heart welcomes God. In the quiet of acknowledging a need for Him, the humble heart joins with God in pondering all He has done. We call this worship—responding to God with quiet and stillness, joining with Him to converse, to ponder.
God noticed the young peasant girl’s modest heart. She responded to God’s call on her life with a willing trust. Despite the seeming impossibility of what He proposed, despite the cost it would surely mean to her future, Mary’s humbled heart was at peace. God confuses the ways of those who are “proud in the thoughts of their heart” (Luke 1:51), but the lowly heart has peace.
Mary had a story to share. An incredible story. But she kept it as a cherished treasure—safe from fame and boasting. Safe from the danger of embellishment. She kept it on her chest—within her heart. She shared it with God…and let Him share it with others.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
IF I HAD A PULPIT: Don't Blame Me
President Ronald Reagan enjoyed enormous popularity during his two terms in office. Though an arms-for-hostage scheme marred his last years, he left the White House in 1989 with the highest approval ratings of any US president since Franklin Roosevelt.
A young Democratic congresswoman noted a similarity between the president and the pan holding her children’s breakfast eggs. Patricia Schroeder, representative from Colorado, remarked, “After carefully watching Ronald Reagan, I can see he’s attempting a great breakthrough in political technology. He has been perfecting the Teflon-coated presidency. He sees to it that nothing sticks to him. He is responsible for nothing.”
The one thing that did stick to President Reagan was Schroeder’s metaphor. He became known as the first Teflon president.
What an enviable place to be, wouldn’t you say? The leader of the free world, the mouthpiece of democracy and responsible for protecting the liberties of millions…and blame could not attach itself to Ronald Reagan.
Now, it’s likely that you aren’t and won’t ever be in a place of such power, but even in your own circumstances, wouldn’t it be wonderful to be freed from blame? Can you even imagine facing charges and having them slide off you? Would it be possible to stand up to complaints and accusations without a string of explanations to back you up?
Of course you know that if you have accepted Jesus Christ as Savoir you are without fault. Every atrocity you’ve ever committed has been wiped away. You’re kind of a Teflon-Christian. The accusations may fly, but nothing will stick to you.
Nothing sticks, but is the life you’re living pleasing to God? You’re free from blame and accusation, but are you honoring God with the things you do? As a Christian, what do your actions say about the God who saved your life?
Though you are without blame, the day will come when you face Jesus to give an account of your life as a Believer. Much of our Christian theology is grounded in the belief that Jesus will return one day. He promised it; we therefore believe it. Jesus said, “Be ready.” He told us to be looking for it. Though we won’t know beforehand, we will see signs of His approach.
When He arrives He will appear in bodily form so that we can see Him and touch Him. And unlike His first time on earth, Jesus will return to judge the world. Believers and non-believers will stand before Him. What will stick to you when He asks, “What did you do with what I gave you?” Will you continue to stand as a Teflon-Believer?
It’s hard to comprehend, but God desires that we would stand before Him blameless, without fault—even on the day when Jesus rules with judgment. Paul said, For this is the will of God, your sanctification (1 Thessalonians 4:3). Sanctification--that’s one of those difficult church-words. It means holy, set apart, different from the world around you. God’s will is that we become a holy people, set apart from the world’s desires, and dedicated to His purposes.
Paul offered the Thessalonians sensible suggestions on how to fulfill God’s will:
Live in peace with one another. We urge you, brethren, admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that no one repays another with evil for evil, but always seek after that which is good for one another and for all people. Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus (1 Thessalonians 5:13 – 18)
God’s will for you in Christ Jesus is that you would be made holy. That increasingly you would become like Jesus. That more and more, in what you say and what you do, you would reflect Jesus to the world.
God’s calls all His children to seek holiness for that Last Day—that day of judgment. His will is that you are able to stand holy and blameless and beyond reproach (Colossians 1:22), without spot or wrinkle (Ephesians 5:27). When the time comes to face Christ’s judgment, nothing will stick to the true Teflon-Christian.
A young Democratic congresswoman noted a similarity between the president and the pan holding her children’s breakfast eggs. Patricia Schroeder, representative from Colorado, remarked, “After carefully watching Ronald Reagan, I can see he’s attempting a great breakthrough in political technology. He has been perfecting the Teflon-coated presidency. He sees to it that nothing sticks to him. He is responsible for nothing.”
The one thing that did stick to President Reagan was Schroeder’s metaphor. He became known as the first Teflon president.
What an enviable place to be, wouldn’t you say? The leader of the free world, the mouthpiece of democracy and responsible for protecting the liberties of millions…and blame could not attach itself to Ronald Reagan.
Now, it’s likely that you aren’t and won’t ever be in a place of such power, but even in your own circumstances, wouldn’t it be wonderful to be freed from blame? Can you even imagine facing charges and having them slide off you? Would it be possible to stand up to complaints and accusations without a string of explanations to back you up?
Of course you know that if you have accepted Jesus Christ as Savoir you are without fault. Every atrocity you’ve ever committed has been wiped away. You’re kind of a Teflon-Christian. The accusations may fly, but nothing will stick to you.
Nothing sticks, but is the life you’re living pleasing to God? You’re free from blame and accusation, but are you honoring God with the things you do? As a Christian, what do your actions say about the God who saved your life?
Though you are without blame, the day will come when you face Jesus to give an account of your life as a Believer. Much of our Christian theology is grounded in the belief that Jesus will return one day. He promised it; we therefore believe it. Jesus said, “Be ready.” He told us to be looking for it. Though we won’t know beforehand, we will see signs of His approach.
When He arrives He will appear in bodily form so that we can see Him and touch Him. And unlike His first time on earth, Jesus will return to judge the world. Believers and non-believers will stand before Him. What will stick to you when He asks, “What did you do with what I gave you?” Will you continue to stand as a Teflon-Believer?
It’s hard to comprehend, but God desires that we would stand before Him blameless, without fault—even on the day when Jesus rules with judgment. Paul said, For this is the will of God, your sanctification (1 Thessalonians 4:3). Sanctification--that’s one of those difficult church-words. It means holy, set apart, different from the world around you. God’s will is that we become a holy people, set apart from the world’s desires, and dedicated to His purposes.
Paul offered the Thessalonians sensible suggestions on how to fulfill God’s will:
Live in peace with one another. We urge you, brethren, admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that no one repays another with evil for evil, but always seek after that which is good for one another and for all people. Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus (1 Thessalonians 5:13 – 18)
God’s will for you in Christ Jesus is that you would be made holy. That increasingly you would become like Jesus. That more and more, in what you say and what you do, you would reflect Jesus to the world.
God’s calls all His children to seek holiness for that Last Day—that day of judgment. His will is that you are able to stand holy and blameless and beyond reproach (Colossians 1:22), without spot or wrinkle (Ephesians 5:27). When the time comes to face Christ’s judgment, nothing will stick to the true Teflon-Christian.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
PIONEER COLUMN (December 2008): A World of Despair
We live in discouraging times. With deep government debt, a plunging stock market, wars with no end, record-high mortgage failures and bankruptcies…we have to wonder, where is the hope? We see evil go unpunished. Suffering surrounds us. We fall into despair. Things will never change. They will always be this way.
Peter struggled to bring believers through just such despair. He spoke to them about the certainty of suffering—of being criticized, attacked, even hated—for sharing the Gospel. His greater concern, however, was damage that could come from within the ranks. Peter cautioned against complacency and encouraged followers to live out what they believed. He charged them to hold fast to the truth. He warned of leaders among them who would distort and subvert the Gospel message.
In his second letter, Peter assured the church that they would have false teachers among them. Preachers would ridicule those looking for the second coming of Christ. They will say, “Where is this ‘coming’ he promised?...everything goes on as it has since the beginning of creation” (2 Peter 3:4).
The people faced physical persecution from the Jews and emotional abuse from their own teachers. How bleak the world must have seemed. Where is the hope? How easy to slip into a sense that God had forgotten them. Things will never change. They will always be this way.
One of the great carols of the Christmas season comes from a time of deep despair. Tragedy had fallen on Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. He lost his beloved wife in a freak and fiery accident in 1861. Then two years later, his eldest son was severely wounded while serving in the Union Army. On Christmas Day, 1864, with the Civil War raging, Longfellow penned a holiday poem of seven verses. We’re familiar with five of the stanzas that begin:
I heard the bells on Christmas Day, their old familiar carols play
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
This last line, repeated in all seven verses, seems to mock the truth played out in America that day. Longfellow’s despondency is transparent in two lesser-known stanzas:
Then from each black accursed mouth, the cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound the carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men.
It was as if an earthquake rent the hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn the households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men.
And then with the sixth verse, the poet acknowledges his despair. He cries out with words that seem to say, “Where is the hope? Things will never change. They will always be this way." In the misery of grief and the futility of war, had God forgotten Henry Wadsworth Longfellow?
No. Longfellow confidently concludes:
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: “God is not dead; nor doth He sleep!”
The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!
Peter similarly encouraged those he addressed. Though mockers scoffed and accused God of breaking a promise, Peter reminded the people that God was neither dead nor asleep. He was at work. He had not withdrawn His promise, nor was He delaying it. He was still working through it. Peter says: The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9).
God was and is using this period of time before Jesus returns to draw people to Him. With the promise of Christ’s second coming, God extends an incentive to join His fellowship. It is His greatest desire that no one would be left out, that no one would be lost on that last day. The message of Christmas is a message of hope: God first sent His Son to save the world. Despite the dire messages of the world (where is the hope? Things will never change), we take hope in the continual work of God. We find hope in believing His Son will return. As Longfellow said, The Right will prevail.
Peter struggled to bring believers through just such despair. He spoke to them about the certainty of suffering—of being criticized, attacked, even hated—for sharing the Gospel. His greater concern, however, was damage that could come from within the ranks. Peter cautioned against complacency and encouraged followers to live out what they believed. He charged them to hold fast to the truth. He warned of leaders among them who would distort and subvert the Gospel message.
In his second letter, Peter assured the church that they would have false teachers among them. Preachers would ridicule those looking for the second coming of Christ. They will say, “Where is this ‘coming’ he promised?...everything goes on as it has since the beginning of creation” (2 Peter 3:4).
The people faced physical persecution from the Jews and emotional abuse from their own teachers. How bleak the world must have seemed. Where is the hope? How easy to slip into a sense that God had forgotten them. Things will never change. They will always be this way.
One of the great carols of the Christmas season comes from a time of deep despair. Tragedy had fallen on Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. He lost his beloved wife in a freak and fiery accident in 1861. Then two years later, his eldest son was severely wounded while serving in the Union Army. On Christmas Day, 1864, with the Civil War raging, Longfellow penned a holiday poem of seven verses. We’re familiar with five of the stanzas that begin:
I heard the bells on Christmas Day, their old familiar carols play
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
This last line, repeated in all seven verses, seems to mock the truth played out in America that day. Longfellow’s despondency is transparent in two lesser-known stanzas:
Then from each black accursed mouth, the cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound the carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men.
It was as if an earthquake rent the hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn the households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men.
And then with the sixth verse, the poet acknowledges his despair. He cries out with words that seem to say, “Where is the hope? Things will never change. They will always be this way." In the misery of grief and the futility of war, had God forgotten Henry Wadsworth Longfellow?
No. Longfellow confidently concludes:
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: “God is not dead; nor doth He sleep!”
The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!
Peter similarly encouraged those he addressed. Though mockers scoffed and accused God of breaking a promise, Peter reminded the people that God was neither dead nor asleep. He was at work. He had not withdrawn His promise, nor was He delaying it. He was still working through it. Peter says: The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9).
God was and is using this period of time before Jesus returns to draw people to Him. With the promise of Christ’s second coming, God extends an incentive to join His fellowship. It is His greatest desire that no one would be left out, that no one would be lost on that last day. The message of Christmas is a message of hope: God first sent His Son to save the world. Despite the dire messages of the world (where is the hope? Things will never change), we take hope in the continual work of God. We find hope in believing His Son will return. As Longfellow said, The Right will prevail.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
PIONEER COLUMN: Living in Terror
Long before al-Qu’ida, the PLO, or the IRA, a single man terrorized a small town on the eastern Galilean shore. Naked, this man roamed freely among the tombs and burial plots of the local cemetery. His screams chilled the day and his howls sliced through the night. A man of Herculean strength, the townspeople were unable to restrict him. Chains placed on his wrists were snapped like kindling. Shackles were smashed like fruit in a press. Fear and intimidation oppressed the people. They were in need of rescue.
Jesus hit the shore of this Galilean town focused on His usual routine of preaching, teaching and healing. As He climbed from His boat, the wild man emerged from the cemetery. He recognized Jesus and ran to meet Him.
Jesus knew the man was not of a right mind, that evil held him captive. Jesus immediately commanded the evil spirit to leave the man. But it was a hardened spirit. Bowing low before Jesus, it caused the man to shriek, “Why are you interfering with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? In the name of God, I beg you, don’t torture me!” (Mark 5: 7).
Jesus provoked terror in the terrorist.
And with good reason. The spirit was in fact many spirits—at least two thousand. Yet despite their number, they feared the one man before them. Calling Him by name and title, they recognized His power and authority. Only Jesus, Son of God, could end their occupation of this pitiful man.
Jesus did call the spirits out and allowed them to enter a herd of pigs. Two thousand pigs, mad with possession, raced down a steep embankment and into the lake where they drowned. Their confused caretakers fled to town.
As word of the mass swine suicide spread, the townspeople rushed to the shore. There they witnessed their tormentor sitting at Jesus’ feet, fully clothed and rational. And this terrified them more than his screams and howls once had. He was now like one of them. It was more than they could accept. They begged Jesus to move on and leave their town alone.
How can that be? Jesus had removed their greatest fear, and the people of the Geresenes were afraid, not grateful. The mad man faced them, restored and fully functional. And that was more terrifying than a naked man in the cemetery.
Isn’t that our way too? There’s a problem, a danger, a wound that we long to have fixed. Jesus, the healer and restorer, comes to make the situation right again. But sometimes what we want from Him is a bandage, not a cure. A band-aid will cover and protect the injury, but a cure involves time and treatment…sometimes treatment that means additional pain.
We all have fears and anxieties that hold us captive from time to time. Perhaps it’s the terror of a secret from the past that threatens to reveal itself. Maybe it’s the possibility of failure that immobilizes when it’s time for action. Or it could be that you spend valuable time and energy trying to keep up a pretense because of the paralyzing fear of being exposed as the phony you really are.
Isaiah 61:1 – 2 says Jesus comes to “bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to captives And freedom to prisoners…To comfort all who mourn." His job is to heal and release us from the terrors that hold us hostage. And because He knows all about our life—all the pain and mistakes—He is able to walk us through the healing process. But it is a rebuilding process. It may require working through painful memories or facing difficult truths about yourself or people in your life. It will ultimately require forgiveness. And letting go.
This is where Jesus is often told to move on. Have you been to this point? Jesus can remove your greatest terror, but are you willing to let it go? Letting go of past hurts and secrets, fears, and phony masks may seem to be too much. You may prefer to let go of Jesus. But don’t. Let Him push you on.
Jesus hit the shore of this Galilean town focused on His usual routine of preaching, teaching and healing. As He climbed from His boat, the wild man emerged from the cemetery. He recognized Jesus and ran to meet Him.
Jesus knew the man was not of a right mind, that evil held him captive. Jesus immediately commanded the evil spirit to leave the man. But it was a hardened spirit. Bowing low before Jesus, it caused the man to shriek, “Why are you interfering with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? In the name of God, I beg you, don’t torture me!” (Mark 5: 7).
Jesus provoked terror in the terrorist.
And with good reason. The spirit was in fact many spirits—at least two thousand. Yet despite their number, they feared the one man before them. Calling Him by name and title, they recognized His power and authority. Only Jesus, Son of God, could end their occupation of this pitiful man.
Jesus did call the spirits out and allowed them to enter a herd of pigs. Two thousand pigs, mad with possession, raced down a steep embankment and into the lake where they drowned. Their confused caretakers fled to town.
As word of the mass swine suicide spread, the townspeople rushed to the shore. There they witnessed their tormentor sitting at Jesus’ feet, fully clothed and rational. And this terrified them more than his screams and howls once had. He was now like one of them. It was more than they could accept. They begged Jesus to move on and leave their town alone.
How can that be? Jesus had removed their greatest fear, and the people of the Geresenes were afraid, not grateful. The mad man faced them, restored and fully functional. And that was more terrifying than a naked man in the cemetery.
Isn’t that our way too? There’s a problem, a danger, a wound that we long to have fixed. Jesus, the healer and restorer, comes to make the situation right again. But sometimes what we want from Him is a bandage, not a cure. A band-aid will cover and protect the injury, but a cure involves time and treatment…sometimes treatment that means additional pain.
We all have fears and anxieties that hold us captive from time to time. Perhaps it’s the terror of a secret from the past that threatens to reveal itself. Maybe it’s the possibility of failure that immobilizes when it’s time for action. Or it could be that you spend valuable time and energy trying to keep up a pretense because of the paralyzing fear of being exposed as the phony you really are.
Isaiah 61:1 – 2 says Jesus comes to “bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to captives And freedom to prisoners…To comfort all who mourn." His job is to heal and release us from the terrors that hold us hostage. And because He knows all about our life—all the pain and mistakes—He is able to walk us through the healing process. But it is a rebuilding process. It may require working through painful memories or facing difficult truths about yourself or people in your life. It will ultimately require forgiveness. And letting go.
This is where Jesus is often told to move on. Have you been to this point? Jesus can remove your greatest terror, but are you willing to let it go? Letting go of past hurts and secrets, fears, and phony masks may seem to be too much. You may prefer to let go of Jesus. But don’t. Let Him push you on.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
An Evangelical's Reaction to the 2008 Presidential Election
How appropriate was my daily Scripture reading for November 5—the morning after our nation elected its first African American President.
My passage for that morning came from John chapters 8 and 9. Jesus is addressing the Pharisees—even those who say they believe in Him, those who give lip service to His ministry but continue on in their established religion. Jesus’ ministry was revolutionary. It required deep personal change. It called for an inward change from hearts of stone to hearts of flesh (Ezekiel 11:19)—hearts devoted to the living God; hearts of mercy and compassion and forgiveness; hearts that would change the world and see God’s Kingdom on earth as it is in Heaven.
But the Pharisees had no room for Jesus. Their hearts were full of their own gospel—arrogant, pompous, self-righteous, worldly power through religion. And because their hearts had no room, they could not hear Jesus’ word. Without hearing, their minds could not accept and understand (John 8:43). With hardened hearts (hearts of stone), they could not see the sin in their own lives. Though their eyes were open and taking it all in, they were blind (9:39). They could not see, so they could not witness this man as the Son of God. They did not know Him. They did not know the Father (8:19).
We evangelical Christians can be much like Jesus’ Pharisees. Our hearts have been hardened by our love of our religion, our love of political power, and our determination that we have it right! Four years ago we were held up as George W’s strength. We were the reason he won the 2004 election.
Where was the evangelical Christian clout in 2008?
It seems it held little interest with this year’s two candidates. Why? Look at our leaders. One was removed from office after admitting sexual immorality and soliciting drugs. Six “prosperity gospel” televangelists were investigated by the Senate Finance Committee. Two weeks before the election, a pro-family action committee posted a “what-if” letter reflecting on the first Obama term of office. This 16-page document dated October 22, 2012 proposes a future America where the Boy Scouts have been abolished, student-led prayer is ruled as proselytizing and worship and is no longer allowed in public schools, and several Christian publishing houses are forced out of business because major booksellers, targeted by homosexual activists, discontinue sales of Christian books. The scare tactics from this family-first group are vicious and seem designed to provoke mistrust among people of faith.
Have our evangelical leaders no room in their hearts for Jesus? Where is the mercy, the compassion, the forgiveness? Jesus asked this question of the religious leaders of His day. We should ask the same in 2008.
Watch our Christian leaders in the coming months. Will they be praying for our new governmental leaders? Praying for their safety as well as their decisions? Will they tell us that God places our leaders over us…or is that true only when “our guy” wins the election? Will they remind us to turn to God to ask how He wants us to respond to this election?
And how do we respond? That is for God to guide and lead us. But it does seem that we better open our ears and our eyes. There is a reason why minority and young adult turnout at the polls was higher than ever before. These groups could finally identify with a candidate. We need to remember that neither the Republican NOR Democratic Party has put a candidate before the people who has engaged them in the process as Obama did this year. We need to open our eyes and ears to the people who have felt disenfranchised. Why have they felt that way? We need to ask God to show us how to respond to their voice.
And we do need to pray for our new president. If the evangelical leaders won’t ask you to do this, I will. God has allowed Barak Obama to win this election to fill His purpose. We need to be sensitive and responsive to that. Pray for President-Elect Obama: for his safety, for his wisdom, for his faith. Pray the same for his family and his advisors. Pray for peace among the elected officials of both parties as they work with the new president for the good of our country. And pray that you are able to respond as God desires.
My passage for that morning came from John chapters 8 and 9. Jesus is addressing the Pharisees—even those who say they believe in Him, those who give lip service to His ministry but continue on in their established religion. Jesus’ ministry was revolutionary. It required deep personal change. It called for an inward change from hearts of stone to hearts of flesh (Ezekiel 11:19)—hearts devoted to the living God; hearts of mercy and compassion and forgiveness; hearts that would change the world and see God’s Kingdom on earth as it is in Heaven.
But the Pharisees had no room for Jesus. Their hearts were full of their own gospel—arrogant, pompous, self-righteous, worldly power through religion. And because their hearts had no room, they could not hear Jesus’ word. Without hearing, their minds could not accept and understand (John 8:43). With hardened hearts (hearts of stone), they could not see the sin in their own lives. Though their eyes were open and taking it all in, they were blind (9:39). They could not see, so they could not witness this man as the Son of God. They did not know Him. They did not know the Father (8:19).
We evangelical Christians can be much like Jesus’ Pharisees. Our hearts have been hardened by our love of our religion, our love of political power, and our determination that we have it right! Four years ago we were held up as George W’s strength. We were the reason he won the 2004 election.
Where was the evangelical Christian clout in 2008?
It seems it held little interest with this year’s two candidates. Why? Look at our leaders. One was removed from office after admitting sexual immorality and soliciting drugs. Six “prosperity gospel” televangelists were investigated by the Senate Finance Committee. Two weeks before the election, a pro-family action committee posted a “what-if” letter reflecting on the first Obama term of office. This 16-page document dated October 22, 2012 proposes a future America where the Boy Scouts have been abolished, student-led prayer is ruled as proselytizing and worship and is no longer allowed in public schools, and several Christian publishing houses are forced out of business because major booksellers, targeted by homosexual activists, discontinue sales of Christian books. The scare tactics from this family-first group are vicious and seem designed to provoke mistrust among people of faith.
Have our evangelical leaders no room in their hearts for Jesus? Where is the mercy, the compassion, the forgiveness? Jesus asked this question of the religious leaders of His day. We should ask the same in 2008.
Watch our Christian leaders in the coming months. Will they be praying for our new governmental leaders? Praying for their safety as well as their decisions? Will they tell us that God places our leaders over us…or is that true only when “our guy” wins the election? Will they remind us to turn to God to ask how He wants us to respond to this election?
And how do we respond? That is for God to guide and lead us. But it does seem that we better open our ears and our eyes. There is a reason why minority and young adult turnout at the polls was higher than ever before. These groups could finally identify with a candidate. We need to remember that neither the Republican NOR Democratic Party has put a candidate before the people who has engaged them in the process as Obama did this year. We need to open our eyes and ears to the people who have felt disenfranchised. Why have they felt that way? We need to ask God to show us how to respond to their voice.
And we do need to pray for our new president. If the evangelical leaders won’t ask you to do this, I will. God has allowed Barak Obama to win this election to fill His purpose. We need to be sensitive and responsive to that. Pray for President-Elect Obama: for his safety, for his wisdom, for his faith. Pray the same for his family and his advisors. Pray for peace among the elected officials of both parties as they work with the new president for the good of our country. And pray that you are able to respond as God desires.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
PIONEER COLUMN "Playing the Waiting Game"
A time management company sponsored a productivity survey a few years ago. The results suggested that over a lifetime we spend six months waiting at stoplights and a full two years waiting in line.
Oh, it’s at least that long. Think of all the lines you’re in on various days: supermarket checkout, bank, restaurant, movie theater, secretary of State, public restrooms, communion.
And other waits: for dinner to heat in the microwave, the price of that plasma TV to come down, a certain book to be published, the right mate to come along. We accept a wait at the doctor’s office. After all, they have dedicated a room to comfortably pass the time. Sometimes you put your name on a “wait list” to be informed when an item becomes available. I have a friend who’s currently a part of the ultimate wait—she’s expecting her first baby.
Waiting is a part of this life. It’s what we live with—some better than others. There’s an anticipation attached to waiting. And sometimes anxiety, too. We think we know what’s ahead of us…we’re anxious to get there…but we’re stalled and we want the journey to continue.
The Israelites faced such anticipation and anxiety during their journey to the Promised Land. They had been traveling along, enduring—not always graciously—bitter water, limited food supplies, battles with nomadic tribes, and an awesome display of thunder, lightening, and smoke from a mountain. They heard the voice of God speak simple words for abundant living.
And then their leader disappeared into the smoke of that mountain for a private chat with God. The journey came to a halt. For forty days and forty nights, the travelers waited around the mountain for the return of Moses. When he didn’t appear, they decided the delay had run its course. They devised a new travel plan, complete with a new leader and a new god. They crafted a calf from gold, offered sacrifices to it, and threw a festival in its honor.
Waiting is often a part of God’s work in our lives. Many waits are allowed because God wants to use the time to prepare us for something greater. Sometimes it’s a test. Not to prove ourselves to God. Rather, a test to prove ourselves to ourselves. Will we trust and persevere as we wait out God’s timing?
Paul told the Romans to be glad for the waiting: …we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint…(Romans 5:3 – 5). Perseverance builds character, and character that has been proven during times of patient waiting yields hope.
The impetuous character of the Israelite pilgrims proved out during their wait. Instead of persisting, they lost hope. They gave up on God. They moved ahead under the “protection” of a false god and a fickle new leader.
As Christians, we are also pilgrims moving toward a Promised Land—a Kingdom that will last forever. Jesus promised to return one day to claim it. We travel in a kind of holding pattern waiting for His return. We live each day trusting in the promise, enduring the trials and hardships of life, letting those experiences build strength, and clinging to the hope that assures we will live in peace, free of pain and suffering. But we have to wait it out. We cannot reach the Promised Land on our own. We cannot fashion our own god to lead us there. Jesus is preparing the place for us. He knows the way. We just have to be patient and wait for Him.
Oh, it’s at least that long. Think of all the lines you’re in on various days: supermarket checkout, bank, restaurant, movie theater, secretary of State, public restrooms, communion.
And other waits: for dinner to heat in the microwave, the price of that plasma TV to come down, a certain book to be published, the right mate to come along. We accept a wait at the doctor’s office. After all, they have dedicated a room to comfortably pass the time. Sometimes you put your name on a “wait list” to be informed when an item becomes available. I have a friend who’s currently a part of the ultimate wait—she’s expecting her first baby.
Waiting is a part of this life. It’s what we live with—some better than others. There’s an anticipation attached to waiting. And sometimes anxiety, too. We think we know what’s ahead of us…we’re anxious to get there…but we’re stalled and we want the journey to continue.
The Israelites faced such anticipation and anxiety during their journey to the Promised Land. They had been traveling along, enduring—not always graciously—bitter water, limited food supplies, battles with nomadic tribes, and an awesome display of thunder, lightening, and smoke from a mountain. They heard the voice of God speak simple words for abundant living.
And then their leader disappeared into the smoke of that mountain for a private chat with God. The journey came to a halt. For forty days and forty nights, the travelers waited around the mountain for the return of Moses. When he didn’t appear, they decided the delay had run its course. They devised a new travel plan, complete with a new leader and a new god. They crafted a calf from gold, offered sacrifices to it, and threw a festival in its honor.
Waiting is often a part of God’s work in our lives. Many waits are allowed because God wants to use the time to prepare us for something greater. Sometimes it’s a test. Not to prove ourselves to God. Rather, a test to prove ourselves to ourselves. Will we trust and persevere as we wait out God’s timing?
Paul told the Romans to be glad for the waiting: …we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint…(Romans 5:3 – 5). Perseverance builds character, and character that has been proven during times of patient waiting yields hope.
The impetuous character of the Israelite pilgrims proved out during their wait. Instead of persisting, they lost hope. They gave up on God. They moved ahead under the “protection” of a false god and a fickle new leader.
As Christians, we are also pilgrims moving toward a Promised Land—a Kingdom that will last forever. Jesus promised to return one day to claim it. We travel in a kind of holding pattern waiting for His return. We live each day trusting in the promise, enduring the trials and hardships of life, letting those experiences build strength, and clinging to the hope that assures we will live in peace, free of pain and suffering. But we have to wait it out. We cannot reach the Promised Land on our own. We cannot fashion our own god to lead us there. Jesus is preparing the place for us. He knows the way. We just have to be patient and wait for Him.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
PIONEER COLUMN "What's in a Name" September 12, 2008
In church last Sunday I played a game with our Sunday school kids. I passed out nametags and told the children to put them on. They were dismayed. A few even protested out loud.
I wasn’t upset. I had expected their refusals. You see, the children weren’t handed their own names. They were given a classmate’s. We were playing a “mixer” game, intended to get the kids to interact. The children had to find the rightful owner of the badge they held. They were more than willing to make the exchange.
The kids didn’t like the idea of wearing someone else’s name. They had their own names and those were the tags they wanted. It didn’t make sense to have others call them by a name that wasn’t their own. And they also figured out that they wouldn’t respond when someone called them by the wrong name.
Hearing your name spoken by another person suggests some level of intimacy between you. The person knows you well enough to call you by name. To hear it called by an acquaintance means they’ve remembered you. When your name is announced at the doctor’s office, you know the staff has prepared for your visit.
Your name may be enhanced by an endearment (my buddy, my best friend) that indicates a special rapport. Perhaps your beloved has given you a pet name that suggests a playfulness in your relationship. But when he or she calls you by your given name, there is a unique connection. Intermingled within the call there is an affection that could only come from one who knows you so well.
Names are important to God. He instructed Joseph to name his infant “Jesus” …for He will save His people from their sins (Matthew 1:21). The Son carried the name that meant Savior. And when Jesus had accomplished His mission God highly exalted Him, and bestowed on Him the name which is above every name (Philippians 2:9). God gave Him the name of highest honor. No title—President, Emperor, Czar, King—is greater than the name of the Son of God.
If we lowly humans derive so much pleasure from hearing our names…what must God feel when He hears His name or His Son’s name? Delight in our praises? Patience with our doubts? Compassion for repentance? Disappointment with our curses?
Psalm 9:10 says, Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you.
This verse speaks of the intimacy of relationship, of knowing the character and integrity of the one who is called. Knowing the Lord—especially as the name above every name—leads to trust. Being able to call out His name is confidence in His willingness to save, in His loyalty to always answer the cry. And there is the assurance that He responds.
Don’t you think it must delight God to hear His children call His name? To know that they are coming to Him trusting that He will answer? If the children were pests and bothers wouldn’t He ignore their cries and pleas? Instead He never rejects them. He hears His name and He responds.
Oh, and my name? I’m Anne Riegler. Also known as Pastor Mike’s wife, Miss Anne, and a variety of those beloved pet names. These are some of the names I respond to. You’ll be getting to know me better in the coming months. And once you do, I hope you’ll use my name.
I wasn’t upset. I had expected their refusals. You see, the children weren’t handed their own names. They were given a classmate’s. We were playing a “mixer” game, intended to get the kids to interact. The children had to find the rightful owner of the badge they held. They were more than willing to make the exchange.
The kids didn’t like the idea of wearing someone else’s name. They had their own names and those were the tags they wanted. It didn’t make sense to have others call them by a name that wasn’t their own. And they also figured out that they wouldn’t respond when someone called them by the wrong name.
Hearing your name spoken by another person suggests some level of intimacy between you. The person knows you well enough to call you by name. To hear it called by an acquaintance means they’ve remembered you. When your name is announced at the doctor’s office, you know the staff has prepared for your visit.
Your name may be enhanced by an endearment (my buddy, my best friend) that indicates a special rapport. Perhaps your beloved has given you a pet name that suggests a playfulness in your relationship. But when he or she calls you by your given name, there is a unique connection. Intermingled within the call there is an affection that could only come from one who knows you so well.
Names are important to God. He instructed Joseph to name his infant “Jesus” …for He will save His people from their sins (Matthew 1:21). The Son carried the name that meant Savior. And when Jesus had accomplished His mission God highly exalted Him, and bestowed on Him the name which is above every name (Philippians 2:9). God gave Him the name of highest honor. No title—President, Emperor, Czar, King—is greater than the name of the Son of God.
If we lowly humans derive so much pleasure from hearing our names…what must God feel when He hears His name or His Son’s name? Delight in our praises? Patience with our doubts? Compassion for repentance? Disappointment with our curses?
Psalm 9:10 says, Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you.
This verse speaks of the intimacy of relationship, of knowing the character and integrity of the one who is called. Knowing the Lord—especially as the name above every name—leads to trust. Being able to call out His name is confidence in His willingness to save, in His loyalty to always answer the cry. And there is the assurance that He responds.
Don’t you think it must delight God to hear His children call His name? To know that they are coming to Him trusting that He will answer? If the children were pests and bothers wouldn’t He ignore their cries and pleas? Instead He never rejects them. He hears His name and He responds.
Oh, and my name? I’m Anne Riegler. Also known as Pastor Mike’s wife, Miss Anne, and a variety of those beloved pet names. These are some of the names I respond to. You’ll be getting to know me better in the coming months. And once you do, I hope you’ll use my name.
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