As a follower of Jesus, I don't always fit into nicely defined categories as I seek to apply His teaching to the issues of life. It appears to me that we often miss a needed balance in life because we are always defining ourselves at the extremes where decisions seem more clear cut. Or we are afraid not to have the same opinion as others in our group. Part of following Jesus is struggling for balance and grappling for answers. We can err on both sides of the truth...
Sunday, June 21, 2015
Thoughts on Changing the Definition of Marriage
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Wednesday of Holy Week: The Quiet Before the Storm
Why? Had the chief priests and scribes given up?
The first reason they did not engage him publicly again was that after Tuesday's fiasco, in which Jesus bested them in every test, making them look foolish rather than the other ways around (as they had planned), no one dared ask Him any more questions. They had had enough. They didn't wanted any more efforts to backfire, as all of them had on Tuesday.
But had they given up? Hardly. They simply took another tactic. Many of the leaders had already determined that Jesus should die. How much easier that would have been to maneuver had Jesus suddenly become unpopular. That was not going to happen--at least, not the way they had envisioned it and planned it.
Another, more ominous strategy came to them, though. They didn't have to think it up. It fell right into their laps. On Tuesday at the evening meal, a woman came in and anointed Jesus using a very expensive perfume. Judas, the keeper of the money for the group, rebuked her, saying that the money could be sold and the money given to the poor. Judas was not concerned about the poor in this case, however. He had started the habit of helping himself to some of the money that he looked after for the group.
"Leave her alone!" said Jesus. This Judas--Judas Iscariot--had already fallen to temptation in the matter of the money. Angry at Jesus' rebuke, he allowed Satan to enter him. He knew what it was the chief priests and scribes wanted--a way to arrest Jesus and deal with Him when He wasn't in front of the adoring crowd. So, either Tuesday night late or on Wednesday, Judas went to the chief priests and offered to hand Him over when no crowd was present. They were delighted to hear this and offered him thirty pieces of silver for his betrayal.
And so, Judas began plotting for a way to turn his master over in a more private setting. This was the Wednesday of Holy Week.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Tuesday of Holy Week: Who Told You that You Could Do That?
It was late February or early March some years ago while we were living in Dublin, Georgia. I was home with the children; Cindy was out for a while. The day was unseasonably warm, but there was still a nip in the air. A child with her friend came up to me in the late afternoon. “Can we put on swimsuits and turn on the hose and get wet?”
I had forgotten to put on my bracelet that morning—my WWMS bracelet. You know, “What would Mom say?” Still, in the back of my mind, I knew what Mom would say: “NO!” And she would have several dozen good reasons for that answer.
My mind was full of deep theological thoughts, though, and try as I might, I could not marshal a single reason to say no. “I guess,” I said, but wanting to prove I was no pushover, I added, “But not one drop of water in the house, and no mud at all. Stay on the driveway or in the grass.” As they ran happily off, I returned to my easy chair in front of a television showing NCAA basketball that I was, of course, ignoring, being caught up thinking deep theological thoughts. But I remember that inwardly I felt a little uneasy and hoped it would be a while before Mom returned. However, it wasn’t long before I heard the van make its way into the driveway and to the rear of the house.
My wife is an excellent musician. She has a beautiful voice. And in that moment I heard her melodious strains wafting through the backyard and on into the house.
“WHO TOLD YOU THAT YOU COULD GET WET AND MUDDY?” I froze as I waited to hear the reply, which came rather quickly. “Dad said we could.” And I heard them continue to explain it in such I way that it sounded like I gave them not only permission but that it was my idea!
They were off the hook. They had authority. “Dad said we could.” I reluctantly pushed my deep theological thoughts aside and quietly made my way to the front door. I just remembered some errands I needed to run. And since my cell phone battery was not taking a charge very well at the time, I decided I would conserve the power and just leave it off for a while.
“Who told you that you could?” That’s a popular question, isn’t it? Jesus was asked that question on a busy teaching day during Holy Week. He was asked that by the guardians of Judaism who were threatened by his popularity and his power and his very presence.
It was Tuesday of Holy Week. On Sunday the crowd had gone wild with shouts of “Hosanna!” as Jesus entered Jerusalem for the week of Passover. On Monday, Jesus had cleared the temple in anger at the greed of the people. So on Tuesday, the chief priests wanted to know, “Who told you that you could do all these things?” They were the hierarchy; they were the leaders of the faith. Where did he get off telling the people that they themselves—the chief priests, the teachers of the law, the Pharisees—were hypocrites and worse? Who told him he could receive the praise of the people? What made him think he could disrupt the sacrifices that had been practiced for 1000 years?
Since a crowd of people were around, they were a little more polite than they might have been in private: “‘By what authority are you doing these things?’ they asked. ‘And who gave you the authority to do this?’”
He could have answered them, and perhaps he would have answered them had they been honest inquirers of what could have been, in my mind, a legitimate question. But legitimate questions seek for answers. And they had already decided in their minds that since they had not given him authority, there was no authority. They were not looking for an answer to consider; they were looking for an answer to entrap and condemn.
So Jesus offered them a deal. If they would answer a question about the authority of John the Baptist, He would answer the question about his own authority.
In Mark 11.29-30 (NIV), it says:
Jesus replied, “I will ask you one question. Answer me, and I will tell you by what authority I am doing these things. John's baptism—was it from heaven, or from men? Tell me!”
The group of questioners realized that Jesus’ question presented a dilemma for them, so they got into a huddle to discuss it. Jesus had presented them with two reasonable choices in making their answer. Which would they choose?
“If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will ask, ‘Then why didn't you believe him?’ But if we say, ‘From men’....” (They feared the people, for everyone held that John really was a prophet) (Mark 11.31-32).
Had they been honest, from their own perspective they would have said that John was not a God-sent prophet, but they knew it would have lowered their standing in the minds of the people even more, for the people did see John as a prophet.
So they emerged from their huddle and very humbly and piously stated, “We don’t know.”
“If you are the experts on religious authority and cannot determine the authority of John’s message…” Jesus seemed to be saying as he uttered the words:
“Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things” (Mark 11.33).
To add insult to injury, Jesus told a parable that cast them in the roles of thieves and murderers. This made them angrier than ever. So they regrouped and tried to come up with a way of putting Jesus in a bad light with the people or making Him look foolish.
It was April, so they asked him if it were okay to pay taxes to Caesar. He said, in essence, “Yes, but it is even more important to give God his due.”
And what is God due? What is God’s? We would like to know that this Holy Week, wouldn’t we? Good news! Jesus answers that question for us after a slight detour.
The Sadducees, a group that didn’t believe in life after death, first throw out a riddle trying to show the absurdity of the resurrection. Jesus uses the Scripture to say firmly, “Yes, there is life after death. This is not all there is.” And if they didn’t believe the Scriptures, all they had to do was hang around town just a few more days, and they could see it for themselves!
But then, in the last question anyone dared ask Him publicly, someone asks that day a question that Matthew implies may have started out as kind of a setup, but ends up with the questioner becoming impressed with Jesus, and that, in turn, impresses Jesus.
One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important? (Mark 12.28 NIV).
This last question is the most important. Essentially, in my mind, he is asking, “What is the most important thing in life?” “What is life all about?”
Let’s pay close attention to Jesus’ answer…
“The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these” (Mark 12.29-31 NIV).
It’s as if Jesus, hearing the question as it is put, says, “I can’t limit the answer to this vital question to just one, even though there is indeed one that is the MOST important. But there is another that is so closely related that I need to give you the two most important.”
After He shared the two, He said, “There is no commandment greater than these.” Does that statement sound like this is something we need to underline in our lives? Does it sound to you that Jesus is saying we need to order our lives around these words?
The most important thing in life: Love God. But how? How are we to love God?
Look again at verse 30 and note the words given: with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. What would you judge as the key concept in that section? I once did a word study to try to figure out what each of these four words really means. What I found surprised me. The meaning of each word is not as separate and easy to define as I thought. These words overlap in their meaning. The difference is more in nuance. One commentator stated it this way: “The words are semantically concentric.” That’s a fancy way of saying they mean pretty close to the same thing in their center. As I was searching for the key way of loving God from this passage, I found that the key concept here is not heart. It is not soul. Not mind. No, not strength, either.
The key in how to love God? ALL.
If we were honest, some of us might admit that we love God with half our hearts rather than all our hearts. We love Him, yes, but we are half-hearted in that love for God.
Some of us have divided minds … we are too enamored with the entertainment of this world that focuses on the sensual and the decadent rather than the spiritual and the good.
But Jesus says, “Love with all.”
Here’s our last question of the day: Is Jesus right? The questioner thinks so:
“Well said, teacher,” the man replied. “You are right in saying that God is one and there is no other but him. To love him with all your heart, with all your understanding and with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself is more important than all burnt offerings and sacrifices” (Mark 12.32-33 NIV).
And Jesus, after being evaluated by this questioner, evaluates him in turn, subtly showing that He is the one who is the final judge of the situation. Look at Jesus’ answer:
When Jesus saw that he had answered wisely, he said to him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God” (Mark 12.34 NIV).
Which brings us back to the original question:
“By what authority are you doing these things? And who gave you authority to do this?”
In other words, “Who told you that you could make such pronouncements?”
Jesus didn’t give these guys the answer, but He gives it to us:
“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Matthew 28.18-20 NIV).
Who told you that you could do that, Jesus?
Jesus says, “Daddy told me I could.” And in the way He explained it, He lets us know that it was his Father’s idea all along: “I do only what the Father tells me to do.”
He proved it by going to the cross.
This Holy Week, attending special services and the like are good things to do. But what is most important is to love God with all that you are, and to love one another as you love yourself.
Love on God this week through prayer, praise, the Word, and by your actions.
Remember, Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.”
Love your neighbor today, whether that is your spouse, your child, your parents, your acquaintances—whoever. Remember that Jesus would say to love on somebody, to help somebody who can’t do anything for you in return.
Love God with all you are. Love your neighbor as yourself. And we love, because he first loved us.
The Father has told me to tell you that this is what will make this week—and every week—Holy Week.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Monday of Holy Week: Cleansing the Temple
I have to be careful about referring to a scripture as one of my favorite Scriptures, because I would soon find out that the number in that collection would be far too many to claim the designation of “favorites”. So instead, I will simply say that the following passage from Psalm 103 never fails to touch and move me when I read it or remember it. Of course, Psalm 103 is the one that begins
“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His Holy Name.
Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits.”
Many benefits are listed after these first two verses, but the section beginning in verse 8 always seems to make me pause in wonder. It states:
“The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love.”
Slow to anger. That’s the part that hits me with such grace. Slow to anger. Perhaps that’s because so many are quick to anger. When James counseled us to be slow to anger, he was simply saying, “Be more like God. Be slow to anger.”
Somehow, growing up I got the idea that God was very quick to be angry at all the terrible things that go on here. Some may get the idea that God is always angry. I remember the name of the puritan sermon of the 1700’s: “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.”
But here it says that God is slow to anger, and that is true. If it were not true, I guess He would have had His fill of you and me by now, wouldn’t He? And of course, the mere fact that the world is still here and Jesus has not yet returned testifies to the truth of Peter’s words that “[God] is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish but everyone to come to repentance.”
Yes, it is certainly true, and I am grateful: “The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love.”
That’s why I find the Monday of Holy Week so fascinating.
Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week, was such a triumph, it would seem. We call Jesus’ coming into Jerusalem “The Triumphant Entry.” Coming into the city riding on a donkey while the people waved palm branches and shouted, “Hosanna,” surely that would have been an impressive sight for all of us. Yet, Jesus was strangely sad.
Luke 19.41-44 (NIV):
As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it 42 and said, “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace--but now it is hidden from your eyes. 43 The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side. 44 They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize the time of God's coming to you.”
But on the Monday of Holy Week—today in our commemoration of the week—we get to see Jesus, the epitome of the God who is slow to anger—we see the anger of Jesus. We see what it is that finally sets Him off. We often call this week Passion Week, referring of course to His death, but on Monday we really get to see his passion. Jesus is passionate on Monday. He is angry on Monday.
And we must ask:
Why was He angry? And
What does that say to us?
Let's read from the Bible the account of today: the Monday of Holy Week.
MARK 11.12-19
12 The next day as they were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry. 13 Seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to find out if it had any fruit. When he reached it, he found nothing but leaves, because it was not the season for figs. 14 Then he said to the tree, "May no one ever eat fruit from you again." And his disciples heard him say it. 15 On reaching Jerusalem, Jesus entered the temple area and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, 16 and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts. 17 And as he taught them, he said, "Is it not written: "'My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations'? But you have made it 'a den of robbers.'" (NIV)
First, we note that the day begins with a peculiar incident with a fig tree. Here is a tree that is really not in season for figs, yet it is in full bloom of its leaves. Jesus was hungry and saw the leaves and wanted to see if there was any fruit. Finding none there, he cursed the tree, and Mark notes that the next day, the tree was completely withered from the roots. (Mark 11.20)
Was this harsh of Jesus? I remember a Greek professor in seminary who found it significant that his first judgment that led to death was not even aimed at a precious human but a tree. I like that thought. In my mind, there is a deeper connection to what follows: this tree was symbolic to Jesus of what He had found among His people Israel in his time on earth: many outward signs of growth, but precious little fruit to back up the claim.
Jesus would see the real thing, not simply the symbol, just a few miles up the street. When Jesus arrived at the temple area that morning, there were outward signs of religious fervor. People packed the area. They were buying and selling sacrificial animals so that they could worship God in the prescribed way. Many, many of the people were on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem for Passover. They had left their homes ostensibly so they could worship God.
But when Jesus saw the crowd, the religious activity, the buying and selling in preparation for Passover,he saw the fig tree all over again. Signs of life, signs of growth, but precious little fruit.
We often rail against “moneychangers in the temple,” and Luke gives special attention to those selling in his gospel. What was going on? Many of the pilgrims had decided not to bring sacrificial animals with them from home—too much trouble, for one thing. No guarantee they would pass muster as an acceptable sacrifice, for another. So they elected to bring money and buy the proper sacrifice. After all, these would have the equivalent of our USDA seal of approval. Or, more appropriately, they would have a kosher symbol on them.
But Jesus was outraged by these sellers because they were not interested in the things of God but in padding their pocketbooks by taking an unreasonable profit. How do we know? Jesus said, “You have made [the temple] a den of robbers,” quoting from the O.T. prophet Jeremiah.
These buyers were at the mercy of the sellers. And we are tempted to say, “Yeah, Jesus, get those guys. Give it to them. They are unfair. Their pricing reminds us of the popcorn price at the modern theater. Give it to them, Jesus.”
But before we look too much at “them,” we had better also consider “us.” Note that Mark and Matthew as well point out a fact easy to overlook. Look back to verse 15:
“ . . . Jesus entered the temple area and began driving out those who were buying and selling there.”
It was not just the actions of the sellers that angered the Lord. It was also the attitude of the buyers. He drove out the buyers as well as the sellers. Apparently, their hearts were not where they should have been, either.
The leaves were green, but where was the fruit?
It is so easy for us to come to another Holy Week with good intentions; yet we can end up simply going through the motions. We can treat our relationship with God as just another event on the calendar.
OK . . . it’s Thanksgiving: gather the family, get a turkey and some pumpkin pie, and let’s watch some football together.
OK… it’s Christmas: set up the tree, get out the decorations, buy the presents, go to Candlelight service.
OK . . . it’s Holy Week: a special musical or drama, an egg hunt, new spring fashions, maybe a Holy Week service or two, Sunday worship with the family.
Nothing wrong with any of those things . . . unless they are devoid of real meaning in the heart. Leaves are great … if fruit is likewise on the tree. It’s just not good if it is all for show and the real meaning is missing.
As we consider the anger of Jesus at this scene, we think back to other times He had displayed anger. And you know what it always seems to be? Hypocrisy.
Like you, I normally equate hypocrisy with trying to impress people with something on the outside that is not really there on the inside, in other words, intentional deception, but it seems that Jesus’ definition is far more subtle. To Him, it is not always intentionally being deceptive. Sometimes it is a failure to really seek wisdom. Sometimes it is a failure to really seek understanding.
When he pronounced his “Woes” on the Scribes and Pharisees, He called them hypocrites, but many of them really thought they were following God’s ways. Hypocrisy can come from ignorance of God’s ways, a refusal to seek understanding of God’s ways, as well as intentional deception. Many really though they were serving God when they killed Jesus or His disciples. But they were wrong. They were hypocritical because they failed to really seek God.
“Look at our pretty leaves,” they seem to say, sadly ignorant of the fact that they are supposed to produce fruit and not just go though religious rituals.
Jesus quoted Isaiah about such people:
“Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you hypocrites; as it is written: ‘These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. 7 They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men.’”
Man-made religion never measures up to a personal relationship with the God who loves you. Yet, we can get caught up in it as well. I’m thinking of a man I have known all my life. A few years ago I was seeking to talk to him about his relationship with God. His answer, “You know, I don’t drink beer anymore on Sundays out of my respect for God.”
My frustration was great! I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I am glad he did something out of respect for God. But I don’t think not drinking beer on Sundays was the great desire of God for his life.
But we can also get caught up in the outer trappings—our beautiful church buildings, our Easter lilies, our children and grandchildren and their egg hunts, our new clothes, the wonderful musicals and dramas—and yet miss the centrality of Jesus died to pay the debt of my sin, and He rose from the dead that I might have life everlasting which begins here on earth with a relationship with God.
What shall we do to make sure this doesn’t happen to us?
How do we make sure that God, as slow to anger as He is, does not become angry with us from our refusal to step out of the shallowness of life into more depth?
The answer is given by Jesus this Monday morning of holy Week:
“My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations.” (v. 17)
For “all nations” is significant. “Red, brown, yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight.” I am grateful for services like these open to all followers of Jesus, laying aside our designations of Baptist, Methodist, Presbyterian, and others and coming together as believers in Jesus.
But more significant is the first part:
“My house shall be called a house of prayer.”
The temple was meant to be a house where people would truly seek God by calling out to Him.
Let us spend a few moments in silent prayer, each of us asking God to touch us deeply on the inside so that we may truly worship this holy season, not just with our lips, but with our hearts as well. Let us pray that not only will there be leaves in bloom on the branches of our lives, but that we will bear much fruit as well.
Let’s pray.
Sunday of Holy Week: Voices in the Crowd
(Palm Sunday message from March 28, 2010)
Today is Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week, the final week of Jesus’ earthly ministry. It is a good time to review what we know about Jesus. He entered the city on Palm Sunday in the midst of a huge throng of people. Because of His ministry, Jesus often found Himself in a crowd of people. One way to review some important aspects of His life is to listen to some of the voices in the crowd…
John the Baptist
Before Jesus began His public ministry, and we assume he likely was a hard-working carpenter along with his brothers in Galilee, there was a popular figure who began to attract crowds. It wasn’t because of his good looks or personal habits—he lived in the desert, wore clothes made camel hair, and ate locusts and wild honey. But because of his passion for God and his fiery message, people began to ask the question, “Could this man be the Messiah—the Christ?” He vociferously denied it. No, he said, he was not the Christ but one was preparing the way—the fulfillment of the prophet Isaiah who foretold a voice calling in the wilderness, “Prepare the way for the Lord.”
Yes, as we listen to voices in the crowd this morning to inform us about Jesus, we start with John the Baptist. He had great crowds coming to hear him speak from all around—from Jerusalem and all Judea and the whole region of the Jordan River.
And what did this voice say to prepare the people for the Lord? Let me share two important messages from this voice in the crowd:
“Repent, for the kingdom of God is near.” This was the primary message in preparation for the Lord. John was saying, in essence, “The time has come for God to do a special work, to reveal His renewed purposes.” Repentance is not the only step, but the first step: turning away from our own selfishness and sinfulness and turning toward God, seeking Him.
Many responded to the message of John. Confessing their sins, they were baptized, a beautiful portrait of the washing away of sins.
The second message of importance from John was what he told the crowd when Jesus came to see his cousin John at the Jordan River:
“Look, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.”
How beautiful the symbolism! The Lamb of God… reminding them of the Passover during the liberation from slavery in Egypt—how during the last plague, the plague of death for the firstborn male, mercy would be shown to those houses who had placed the blood of an unblemished lamb on the doorframes of their houses. The Death Angel would “pass over” that house, leaving the firstborn alive. The death of the lamb substituted for the death of the son. Jesus is the Lamb of God.
No wonder John said, “I am not worthy to untie his sandals.” No wonder there was no jealousy from John as Jesus began to draw larger crowds. “He must increase, I must decrease.”
The first voice in the crowd we hear today was a voice of preparation: “Repent, for the Lamb of God has come to take away the sins of the world.”
God the Father
The second voice is even more impressive. When Jesus came to see John, Jesus asked to be baptized. John tried to prevent Him, saying, “I have need to be baptized by you, and you come to me to be baptized?” But Jesus said, “Permit it to be so at this time so that we may fulfill all righteousness.”
Finally, John consented to baptize Jesus as a symbol of His total submission to the Father. And the Father in heaven, even prouder of His Son than we are of the accomplishments of our children, could not hold back. As Jesus came up out of the water, the very heavens opened, and the Spirit of God Himself descended like a dove and came upon Jesus. And in a mighty roar in the midst of the crowd, the Father Himself testified about Jesus: “This is my Son, whom I love; with Him I am well-pleased.”
The demon-possessed
Not all of those who recognized Him, though, were well-pleased. Many were unhappy about it. They acknowledged Jesus unwillingly and with dismay. Some in the crowd did not welcome the intrusion of Jesus, for they understood something that many in our world today do not: You cannot ignore the presence of the Son of the God.
I guess it should not be surprising to us that some of the first who recognized Him were the demon-possessed. In actuality, it was the demons themselves who saw, who knew, and who trembled.
There was always a good crowd of people who gathered in the synagogues of the town and villages in Galilee on Sabbath to chant psalms and listen to the Law being read and taught. Jesus, raised in Nazareth, adopted Capernaum as his residence once He began His ministry.
Let’s listen to this voice in the crowd…
READ LUKE 4.31-37
Yes, how amazing! We know from the beginning that there is an evil one. Why should it surprise us to find that this evil one leads a contingent of evil spirits. Yet, Jesus not only had authority in His teaching, but He had authority over the unclean spirits.
But let’s not overlook the voice in the crowd: Two things for us to ponder upon this Palm Sunday as we reflect on the person of Jesus:
“What do you want with us, Jesus of Nazareth?” This is good question not only for the demon-possessed but for each of us to ponder. “What do you want with us, Jesus?” He does indeed want something with you. What is it that He wants?
That answer comes more clear as we also ponder the testimony of the unholy spirits:
“I know who you are… the Holy One of God.”
The voices from the crowd tell us that Jesus is more than just a man. He is the Lamb. He is the Son. He is the Holy One of God… who comes to invade our lives, whether we bid Him to or not, for He is our Creator, and He has every right to want something from us.
Blind Bartimaeus
Because of this, some believe that God is out to get them. To impose on them. To demand of them. They know a little, but they do not know enough. Their understanding is so small that what little they know turns into misunderstanding. Yes, Jesus wants something with us, but it is not to turn us into slaves or robots. He comes to us with love, demanding from us what we need to give Him so that we might live abundant lives. Like your parents when they wanted you to eat healthy foods and wanted you to study your lessons. You wondered if they were just being mean to you. But, no, they wanted you to eat so that you could grow strong. They wanted you to study so that you could grow intelligent.
God wants something of you… so you can grow holy.
Sometimes the blind see this better than the sighted. We who are sighted often think we see everything. We think that we can be the masters of our own fate. We often think we know better than God and just want Him to leave us alone, just as some of the demons asked.
The blind are not under the illusion of self-sufficiency. At least, not the blind we meet in the New Testament.They know that what Jesus wants from them is not only what they need but what will fill the deepest needs they have.
Jesus was about to leave the city of Jericho. As was so often the case as he traveled, a huge crowd gathered not only to listen to Him but to follow Him. Everyone was nice and well-behaved—well, all except one. One voice was heard above the crowd…
READ MARK 10.46-52
Here is another voice in the crowd we must listen to if we would truly understand Jesus.
“Jesus, have mercy on me!”
The blind man needed mercy, and he heard that Jesus could provide it. He shouted out for it, and the people tried to hush him up.
But another voice was heard in the crowd—the voice of Jesus. “Call him!” And then! “What do you want me to do for you?”
It’s still amazing! He wants to fill the deepest needs in your life.
The Palm Sunday Crowd
To sum up His three year ministry in the understated way of Luke: “Jesus went about doing good.” He healed the sick. He calmed the rowdy sea. He taught with clarity and compassion. He came to free the people from the shackles of their sin as well as the shackles put on them by the religious elite. He showed them what God is really like and how He delights in His people, how God wants to be reconciled to His people and to share a love relationship with them. He does not delight in punishment but delights to forgive and show them the right path.
Because of this, the common people, the salt of the earth kind of people though all Israel and even the Gentiles who lived among them loved Jesus. He freed them from fears. He let them know that God cares. He said he would give them true freedom. He gave them clarity and purpose. It is no wonder that on Palm Sunday the voices in the crowd cried: “Hosanna!” That word means, “Save!” As we sang it today, I hope that it was in recognition that we, too, understand that we need a Savior.
The people also shouted, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” Jesus, this prophet from Nazareth, came to give us a message from God and to be a message from God for us!
The Good Friday Crowd
But not everyone was happy about Jesus. Not just the evil spirits who were asking, “What do you want with me?” The religious leaders, those more concerned about national pride and institutional religion, were threatened by the message. On Sunday, they rebuked Jesus for letting the people honor Him in this way. He said, “If they don’t, the very rocks will cry out!” On Monday, he cleansed the temple. Tuesday was likely a day for the leaders plotting against Jesus. For on Wednesday, they set about to trap Him, trying to make Him appear less authoritative and perhaps get him in trouble with either the people or the Romans. But Jesus again turned the tables, not as He had in the temple courts earlier that week, but on these who tried to trap Him by their clever questioning. Jesus made them look foolish, and even a few of their own kind began to see the light of Jesus. This was too much.
The religious leaders still had their own power and their own heavy handed way of dealing with problems. They paid a betrayer, conducted secret and illegal late night, early morning trials, and gathered up an early crowd on Friday to petition the governor, Pontius Pilate, to rule against Jesus.
The cheers of “Hosanna” turned to the jeers of “Crucify Him!” Not content with anything less than eradication, the leaders had determined that Jesus should die. The voices in the crowd that day concurred.
Pilate did not understand a lot, but he understood that there was Jewish religious politics going on. He stated: “I am innocent of this man’s blood.”
To seal their guilt, the crowd shouted, “Let his blood be on us and on our children!”
Jesus
As Jesus was stripped, flogged, paraded through the streets, and finally nailed to the cross, a crowd once again gathered around Him. There was a group of courageous women who loved Jesus, gathered together near the foot of the cross. Only the disciple that Jesus loved, John, took his place among them. The rest of them were scattered, afraid that they might be next.
The soldiers were there, too, doing their duty, gambling after the only earthly possession of this Son of God, a seamless garment. One, though, the centurion leading the group, said, “Surely He was the Son of God!”
Other in the crowd mocked Him as did even another who was being crucified. Yet, the voice in this crowd that I want you to hear is the voice of the condemned man Himself, Jesus of Nazareth.
He said several things while hanging on that cross for those hours. Let me remind you of three. One was probably not loud enough to be heard by all. Even on the cross, as He surveyed the crowd, He remembered His mission:
“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
As the time drew nearer for His death, Jesus became overwhelmed. Drawing from the despairing words of Psalm 22, Jesus cried out. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Some believe that as Jesus was at the very point of death, He was feeling the loneliness of God the Father turning away from Him while He was accepting Jesus as the sacrifice for our sins, truly becoming the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.
Whatever the cause of His feeling forsaken, whether the pain and suffering of the cross itself or the anguish of loneliness or both, we know that Jesus kept His faith, for the very last voice in the crowd we note today are the very last words of Jesus, His dying words…
READ LUKE 23.4-46
“Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”
This Holy Week, let us reflect on the person of Jesus: His life, His words, and His sacrificial death. Let us ponder what it is that He has do do with us. Let us clarify our own understanding of who He is. Was He a good man? Of course He was. But He was so much more.
Let us lift our voices so that they become voices in the crowd testifying with so many others the truth that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, the Holy One of God, the One who shows mercy and fill our needs, the One who saves, the One whose death we will remember on Friday and whose glorious resurrection we will celebrate next Sunday.
Yes, you must lift your voice in the crowd: The Bible says, “If you confess with your mouth Jesus is Lord, and believe in your heart God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.”
Let me be a voice in this crowd this morning. “Jesus is my Lord!” Are there other voices in the crowd to be heard today?
What about you? What do you say about Jesus?
Is He your Lord?
Monday, September 01, 2008
Baptizing
(Membership in a church, by the way, is supposed to be more than a having a name on a roll. It means belonging to one another in a community of faith, hope, and love. The Bible says it this way: Just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others (Romans 12.4-5 NIV). We join together as "members" of the body of Christ, giving Him hands and feet to accomplish His mission.)
Although these three children had made a decision to follow Jesus already, none of them had yet had a believer's baptism. A few weeks ago, I was invited to their home to discuss the idea of baptism, with the result of yesterday's baptism as part of our worship service.
As meaningful as that was for the family, those they had invited to share in it, for me, and for our church as a whole, there was an unexpected blessing to come.
That afternoon, my son-in-law Rick, a fine Christian young man (he turned 23 last week), asked me if I would baptize him today (Monday) in our neighborhood pool. Now, you may need a little background.
Churches with different traditions baptize at different times and in different ways. Most of our discussions of baptism in the body of Christ concentrate on the meaning (what it is about) and the mode (how you do it.)
The meaning of baptism has been debated for many centuries: Is it necessary for salvation? Is it a symbol? Is it a promise (so that infants are baptized)? Is it for believers?
There are also a variety of modes used for baptism: sprinkling, pouring, and immersion.
While both of these are important, in my mind, the meaning is the most important.
So, what is baptism? The only place to get the definitive answer, in my mind, is from the Bible. Any other source (church tradition, etc.) can only inform the decision. What do we learn about baptism from the Bible?
Baptism is a symbol—an important symbol—of the Christian faith (rather than a means of grace). In other words, it a sign that someone is a believer, not a magic elixir that confers eternal life. Peter writes, "...this water symbolizes baptism that now saves you also--not the removal of dirt from the body but the pledge of a good conscience toward God" (1 Peter 3.21 NIV, emphasis mine).
Baptism is also for believers. The command that Jesus left his disciples that is the end of Matthew's gospel, says, in part: "Therefore go and make disciples, baptizing them..." (Matthew 28.19 NIV). Note that you make a disciple and then baptize him. That is also the pattern of the New Testament--people believe and then they are baptized. There are no infant baptisms in the Bible, because infants cannot believe.
The Bible also says, "We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life" (Romans 6.4 NIV). It speaks of baptism symbolizing a new life, which shows repentance and faith have already occurred. Baptism, in the Bible, is for believers.
Why, then, do some baptize infants? While I could go into that, let me not make this post any longer than it needs to be. Let me just say that none of the defenses of the practice use the Bible. (Well, some use a creative parallel with circumcision, which is for infants, but note that in this passage, it really doesn't fly to make baptism for infants: "In him you were also circumcized, in the putting off off of the sinful nature, not with a circumcision done by the hands of men but with the circumcision done by Christ, having been buried with him in baptism and raised with him through your faith in the power of God, who raised him from the dead" (Colossians 2.11-12 NIV). Isn't it clear that the circumcision here comes when we believe have our sins forgiven?
The mode is also important and is related to the meaning.
How should we baptize? We do so by immersion, that is, by dipping one totally in the water, as opposed to sprinkling or pouring water on the person. You see, baptism is a wonderful symbol that communicates on three levels. Only baptism of believers by immersion encompasses all three.
First, baptism symbolizes the washing away of sin. As you can see, any mode of baptism can adequately show sins being washed away. However, the other two meanings can only be clearly communicated through immersion. Let's see how...
Second, baptism tells the story of Jesus—specifically his death, burial and resurrection. When one is placed under the water, it is symbolic of burial. When a person is brought out of the water, it proclaims the glorious resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ! No other mode of baptism can convey this beautiful portrait of the gospel of Jesus.
Third, baptism tells the story of the new believer: the Scripture says (as previously quoted), “We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life” (Romans 6.4 NIV). When one is baptized, he or she is proclaiming, “The old me—who did not yet follow Jesus—is dead. There is a new me! I have been raised with Christ and am now following Him!” Again, the Bible says it best (in 2 Corinthians 5.17): “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!” It’s kind of hard to see how others could understand baptism differently when they read the words of the Bible.
Now, back to my son-in-law Rick. He had become serious about being a believer in Jesus when he was a teenager. And he was baptized after that time. However, he was baptized by sprinkling and not by immersion. So, he had the meaning right--a believer's baptism--but the mode wrong--it wasn't by immersion.
As I said earlier, while both are important, the meaning (to me) is the more important.
Some people want others to be baptized just to conform to the teaching of the church they lead. I always want people to be baptized in the correct mode (and meaning, for that matter) because they are convinced that it is biblically correct. I am, therefore, patient, believing that baptism is best when done out of conviction that it is what God has in mind. The Ethiopian in Acts 8 asks to be baptized. Now, baptism is a command--make no mistake about that--but with different ideas, it makes sense to let people study the issue to be sure what it is all about.
I most times end a baptism by saying, "This is but water. What prevents you from being baptized?"
I am not sure how God motivated Rick to request baptism, but I know that it was born of his own decision that he wanted to have the right meaning and the right mode.
I mentioned that he wanted to know if I would baptize him in our neighborhood pool. I would have been privileged to do so. A cloudy and relatively cool Labor Day made us rethink. Knowing that the water from the previous day's baptism would still be in the baptistry at the church building, a group of us convened there. It was a special time.
Some wonder why such a big deal about a symbol. I guess I can ask why some people make such a big deal about a wedding ring. It's only a symbol, too! And as I often tell people when discussion the subject of baptism comes up: "Baptism is the wedding ring of the Christian life--a symbol of the commitment between Jesus and His 'bride,' the church."
Thanks, Rick. To paraphrase God the Father at the baptism of Jesus: You are my son-in-law, whom I love. With you I am well pleased!
Monday, July 28, 2008
What Is the Truth?
For instance, a few years ago, my favorite team, Georgia Tech, beat our arch rivals (the university of georgia) in one of the most exciting games in history by the outlandish score of 51-48 in overtime. Now, uga was just about to score what would have been the winning touchdown. They were practically on our goal line. Rather than kick an easy field goal to win the game, they decided to run it in. Instead of the winning touchdown (which uga almost always scores at the end of the game to win), the official signaled a fumble and said that Tech recovered. We ran out the clock and won, as I said, in overtime. The fumble, however, was very controversial to some. For me, it was as clear as could be. Just because I was in the stadium in the upper deck on the opposite 40 yard line, and couldn't see underneath the pile, it was obviously a fumble! In fact, just about everyone wearing gold saw it as a fumble. Funny, anyone wearing red saw it as being down and a defender grabbing the ball after the runner was tackled. You get the point. We all are affected to some degree by our own perspectives.
That's why I often say to people, "There are at least two side to every story--and sometimes 5 or 6!" Sometimes it is honest. We say what we see, and we see from where we stand. At other times, hypocrisy or downright deceit enters into our telling selective facts and leaving others untold. We believe we should give our best spin and let someone else bring forth evidence of a different sort.
That's one reason I appreciate the Bible writers so much. The other week, as I continue preaching through the gospel of John, we were dealing with some of the absolutely ultimate claims that Jesus made about Himself and God the Father. I so much appreciate that John does not only give the claims of Jesus, but also states the objections from others to those claims. The example stated was in John 8 where his critics asked Jesus, "Aren't we right in saying you are a Samaritan and demon-possessed?"
Don't get me wrong--no one who reads John is unclear about his own opinions about Jesus. He states his purpose in writing is so that people will believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing his readers will have life through the name of Jesus. He is not unbiased. Yet, he freely tells what others say about Jesus.
Why does John (and other gospel writers) feel so free to state what others are saying? It's simple: he is not afraid of the truth. Remember, the truth will set you free, and one day (maybe not here) all truth will be set forth and all will be made right. So those who love the truth aren't afraid to speak out what others say, for we believe the truth will be known, and the truth will bring freedom.
It's disappointing at times when some people set themselves up as the only arbiters of truth and spout it out only as they see it and are seemingly afraid for the other side (or sides!) to be given a hearing. I have been involved in, thankfully, only a few major disputes. Because I know that I am not infallible, I tell my side but try to tell people the view of the other side, even if I don't agree with it (obviously) or can't make much sense of it. And sometimes I can indeed understand the other side given their point of view, though I may think they hold the wrong point of view for assessing the situation.
Recently, I have been saddened and bothered by some issues in a disagreement between two Christian families (not in our church) who share similar visions and have worked together for many years. The decision to go in separate directions affects many other people.
I am saddened that sometimes it seems people can see things only from their own perspective and cannot even seem to appreciate the other person's point of view, even if they disagree with it. The real danger there is that we set ourselves up as righteous and the other side becomes the devil. This was often the case with Jesus' opponents. They were so sure they were right that they called Jesus demon-possessed. When we learn to at least see things from the point of view of the other person, though, we may move to a more healthy "Paul and Barnabas" kind of disagreement, where the differences are too real and the division too deep to resolve while staying together but where there can be mutual appreciation and support while going in different directions. Now, it may be that at times it really is a total "good vs. evil" situation, but often our inability to give someone else the benefit of the doubt points to our own lack of humility in assessing the truth. Paul once said that he didn't even judge himself but would leave that to his Lord.
Sometimes I will have a person come in to talk about someone else--whether a spouse or family member or other. This person may tell me all kinds of things about how bad the other person is. Knowing as I do that there are at least two sides to every story (and maybe five or six), I try to realize that it is wrong for me to form an opinion based on only one perspective. Since the person has come alone, however, I have found a way to try to get other perspectives. I may ask, for instance, "If so-and-so was sitting here, with us, what do you think his response would be to what you have said?" or "What would her side of the story be if she came in to tell it?" I feel a bit better when the person can actually tell me what he or she thinks the response would be. I feel an "uh-0h", though, when someone says, "I have no idea what he would say." Although not the only possibility, one possibility for that answer is that the person coming to me has made no attempt to understand the other person's point of view. And when that happens--or fails to happen--there can be no real communication.
Another sad thing in a situation like the one I have described is when self-appointed righteous people take sides and begin to "stir the pot" by calling others with all kinds of information and accusations, trying to get them to take sides. It is amazing that some can be so blind as to think by gossip, innuendo, and even name calling that they are advancing the cause of Christ and are on some kind of holy mission for God. I am reminded of Jesus' words to his disciples that some would kill them, thinking they were doing a service for God. The reputation of many can be murdered because we are so sure of the truth without having some humility.
The most disappointing of all, however, is that some people are so prone to listen to one side of a story and not even ask the other side involved for a response. It is almost beyond comprehension. If I had two really good friends who had a fight and one of them came to me with his side, should I not have the decency to at least call my other friend and say, "I have heard some really disturbing things about you and want to hear your side of it"? Are we so quick to believe bad about people we have loved and trusted that we don't at least give them a word? Forget our country's "innocent until proven guilty" ideal--isn't this just the way of Jesus?
In the situation I am aware of, hearing both sides helps me understand each's perspective. And I understand, I think, both perspectives though I don't agree with both. When disagreements arise between Christians or between Christian groups, it's important to ask, "What is the truth?" And the only way to discover that is to listen to different sides. When that has happened, let people judge which side they believe is closest to the truth. Let them move forward with that. But let us be careful of pitting the sides of Jesus versus the devil when it may be more on the line of Paul and Barnabas.
Yes, I am thankful that the apostle John is not afraid to share what critics of Jesus believe. I am glad that he is not afraid of the truth. I don't want to be afraid of the truth, either, because the truth has set me free.
Friday, June 27, 2008
The Truth WIll Set You Free
For instance, we are often in bondage to our lies. We make up a lie to get out of trouble or simply to avoid embarrassment, and then we end up telling another lie to cover up the first one. We may give slightly different versions to different people, and then we have a problem keeping our stories straight. Besides, we have the inner turmoil of knowing we are not doing the right thing. Being committed to the truth sets us free from such stresses.
We are often in bondage to misconceptions. Someone else may put a guilt trip on us or manipulate us in some way. We fight against feelings of inadequacy, failure, false guilt, etc. When we finally see the truth clearly, what a rush of relief! We are free!
Jesus was committed to truth, and while the truth sets you free, those who don't know the truth or won't see the truth often fight against the truth--and the truth-tellers. Jesus was caught in such positions often. Many people seem to see life from a skewed perspective and interpret everything from that perspective. They think they know the truth--to the detriment of themselves and others.
Jesus often found himself walking what we might think was a middle course between such people. On one hand, we would see Him challenging the hard-heartedness of the Pharisees, who always looked down on those they considered "sinners." He considered them legalistic hypocrites. On the other hand, Jesus was never soft on sin itself. Instead, he preached forgiveness and change (repentance). He never condoned or advocated continuing in sinful behavior. He eschewed both legalism and license.
While Jesus indeed walked a middle ground in such instances, it would be a mistake to simply label Him as a "middle-of-the-roader." Some folks make this mistake. They think since they see Jesus as a moderate--somewhere between legalism and license--that being a moderate is the a philosophy for living life. But Jesus was not committed to a philosophy of moderation. He was committed to TRUTH.
You can miss the truth on either side. That's why the truth almost always seems to be a middle position. It's not. The truth is the truth. You can just miss it on either side. However you decide to label those positions is irrelevant. If you are travelling on a straight and narrow road, you can fall into the ditch on either the right or the left. We must be careful that we are not so afraid of the left ditch that we swerve too far too the right! (Or vice versa.) And that's a mistake too many make, in my opinion. (As an aside, it is interesting that in the Old Testament, it is often said that we should not go "to the left or the right" and good kings are described as "not going to the left or the right.")
Of course, a great question that you have no doubt already thought of in conjuction with this is, "What is truth?" (It's the same question that Pilate asked Jesus at His trial.) Variations are, "How do I know the truth?" and "What makes you think you know the truth?" Just how do we judge what it the truth?
Jesus obviously claimed to know the truth. He even claimed to be the truth--part of His claim to be the unique Son of God. In His prayer not long before Pilate asked the question, He had already answered it. He prayed, just before His arrest, that His Father would "sanctify" (or set apart) His followers by "the truth." Then He defined it for us: "Your word is truth." (See also the quote at the end to learn how to know the truth.)
Some today believe that truth is relative. In other words, something may be true for you but not for me. It may be true for one group but not for another. There may be a sense where that is correct--if we are loose with what we include as "truth." In other words, one product may relieve my headache but not yours. But that's not on the level of what we mean by TRUTH here. Truth, as we are speaking of it, is ultimate reality, what constitutes moral right and wrong, the meaning of life, etc. Jesus said that truth is not something we find through our own opinions; final truth is revealed to us by God. He is the judge of truth.
So don't be misled into thinking that truth comes from a political, theological, economic, or any other kind of philosphy. The question to ask when seeking to form an opinion on an issue, then, is not, "What is the conservative view?" or "What is the liberal view?" or "What is the moderate view?" but "What is God's view?"
On specific issues, His truth may line up with the idea of one "group" on one and another "group" on another. And that may mean you are labeled as part of a group--incorrectly. Or others may disdain you because you don't hold to the "party line" in every instance. But that's okay. You are not going to be judged by the "party" one day. No, you will stand before Jesus.
And that's the truth. So look to Him for His truth, and be prayerful and careful--and also a bit humble--in those areas in which you have to take the principles He gives and discern how best to apply them to a new situation.
Let's allow the truth giver to have the last word. Meditate on the relatively less known first part of this quote, and it will give you more insight into the well-known second part:
Jesus said, "If you hold to my teaching, you are really by disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."
Monday, June 23, 2008
Custer's Last Stand
I was privileged to be one of the speakers at the last service, which was very meaningful to the participants. Steve preached a short message, there was special worship music, and three of us who were recipients of Custer Avenue's kindness each shared briefly.
Here are my remarks...
My grandfather (Papa) was named W. M. Pitts. He was a hardworking farmer who, along with my Granny, raised 9 children. Papa died when I was a freshman in high school. He was 88 years old.This brings up a topic that goes beyond the final service of one church. Over the past twenty years, many churches (as I said in my remarks) have held final services, and there will be more.
While we were sad that he died, he was not a failure in life because he died. At his funeral, it was a great celebration of his life. We recounted our memories of him and thought about the legacy he left behind.
One of my great memories of my Papa was his taking me into town with him. We would go from store to store, and we would hand out little red booklets that contained Scripture portions. He was my first witnessing example and trainer.
All nine of Papa’s children were trained up in the way of Lord, in the way they should go; even as his children have grown old (and some have passed away), they have not turned from it. Not that being a minister is a greater task in the kingdom than any other calling of God, but one of Papa’s sons was called to be a minister, two of his grandchildren, and at least two of his great-grandchildren and their families are on the mission field today.
Even though my Papa died almost thirty years ago, his life and legacy live on.
And I think about such things when a church holds her final service. Some see it as a sign of failure. I think such people are shortsighted. Just as it was a natural thing for my Papa and every other person to die, so it is with churches. I am not aware of any of the churches in the New Testament that have survived in unbroken line. Each came to the close of their natural ministry, and most churches do the same.
This has been particularly true inside the perimeter of Atlanta in the past twenty to forty years. Almost every traditional, long established Baptist church has experienced decline, and many of them have likewise had a celebration of their ministries in a final service, and Custer Avenue will not be the last.
Churches may come to the end of their life cycles for various reasons: changing neighborhoods, changing demographics, aging membership, rising secularism—we could go on and on. The important thing on a day like today is to celebrate the vibrant and eternal consequences of the ministry over the years and look at the legacy that is left behind. Just as it was not a failure for my Papa to die, it is not a failure for a church to come to an end of a ministry cycle. So while there is to be some sadness, even more there should be celebration—celebration of the life and the legacy.
Even as our church struggles with the decline that every other church has, we are grateful for your legacy, for your generosity will help us as we continue to seek to minister in this place.
Last summer, I was taking an annual prayer and study break, and I began to feel that it would be profitable for our church to have a part time Minister to Senior Adults. A majority of our members are seniors, and it was difficult to minister properly to them while seeking to reach out to the younger people around us.
Not long after that, Steve and I began to talk. Financially, we would not be able to pay a part time Senior Adult minister. Through the legacy of Custer Avenue, though, we are pleased that for two years we can have a monthly stipend so that we can have Steve serve in that position. Already he has proven to be a wonderful asset to our ministry here, and it is possible because of the legacy of Custer Avenue Baptist Church.
We are also a church that not only believes in the Cooperative Program to support missions around the world, we believe in hands-on missions as well. In the past couple of years we have had several experiences. First, there was a trip to NY state last summer to work with a new church. Twenty-five went last year and a similar number is going again this year. Pastor Pete Shults’ ministry has been greatly enhanced by this work. There have been three or four trips to Biloxi, Mississippi, to help with cleanup from Hurricane Katrina. Our members have gone on three trips to Africa—one each to Uganda, Gambia, and Nigeria. We have helped support short term mission opportunities of others as well.
In the next few months, one member will travel to China for ministry during the Olympics, a doctor is returning to Nigeria, and a recent college graduate is going to spend three years in Europe.
Seeing this commitment to missions, Steve wanted part of the legacy of Custer Avenue to be used for this kind of endeavor as we try to supplement the costs of our members so they can participate in such missions ventures. We are grateful for a generous grant of $15,000 from Custer Avenue for this kind of work, another example of the legacy you leave behind.
We can’t begin to tell you how much we appreciate what you are doing for us and others, and we pledge to continue to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ, the gospel that has been once for all entrusted to the saints, just as you have done for over 100 years. We ask for your prayers for us that, being only a bit over 50, we can continue to reach out to this community for many years to come.
Let me close by reading one verse of Scripture. It is found in Hebrews 6.
God is not unjust; He will not forget your work and the love you have shown Him as you have helped His people and continue to help them. (Hebrews 6.10)
Certainly, this verse aptly applies to Custer Avenue Baptist Church today. May God bless you!
Yet, today the inner city is once again vibrant and growing. How will we meet the challenge of reaching the city again for a new generation? I am part of an initiative, called the Urban Atlanta Impact Initiative, that is seeking the wisdom of God to answer this question. One thing is sure--the churches of the future inside the perimeter of Atlanta will be vastly different from those of the past. As only one example, I believe most will not invest in land and buildings as has been the habit in the past. How could they? The cost of land alone in urban Atlanta will prove prohibitive, at least for the first years, of almost any church. Quite likely, we will see a return to smaller churches (such as can meet in an apartment or condo), much like the house churches of the first century, even while some of the mega churches will continue to thrive. Others will meet in hotel ballrooms or theaters but will have small groups in homes. Even now, some churches are starting in coffee houses or similar venues, while some churches who are declining are opening their facilities to church planters who are planting churches in the same spaces but starting separate churches. It is wonderful to see these unselfish existing churches committing themselves to a legacy of faith, even though the expression of it will "look" different from their traditional practices (while the message of faith in Jesus will be the same--or it will all be for naught.) Certainly, it will be both interesting and exciting to observe the process as once again we will see God declare, "Behold, I do a new thing!"
I pray that through the initiative that I am privileged to be part of, we will see a new day and a revival of faith in God within the perimeter of Atlanta. I am sure I will share more later of what I see and hear in days ahead.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
A Good Day with the Normans
We also had some very special guests--the Normans, some of our best friends. Where we have five children, there are six in their family, and the first five in each of our families were born within a few months of each other. Of the children, the older two were not with us. Spencer, the oldest, directs a children's Christian camp in Indiana, if I have my facts straight. Catherine, the only girl among the gang, is on a summer mission trip to South Africa.
Those with us today, then, were the mom, Becky, and the four youngest boys: Willis (who just graduated from high school), David, Joel, and Charles. Also missing was the father, Steve, who has been my best friend since college. Steve would have loved to have been here. We would have had a lot of laughs if Steve had been able to join us. He would have regaled us with stories and jokes and commentary on life. Being the brilliant engineer, he might have helped us troubleshoot any problem we might be having. Steve couldn't be with us. He died of a rare brain disorder called Pick's disease three years ago at the age of 52.
I really wish Steve could have been here today, because it was an extra special day, and that started before lunch. I had the incredible privilege of baptizing Steve's four boys who were with us this morning. All of the Norman kids, just like the Norman parents, are followers of Jesus. They grew up in such a way that it has been a very natural step for each of them to make a decision to follow Jesus. Each has made that decision over the years, but for some reason, none of them had been baptized. While baptism is a symbol, it is a very important symbol. In fact, it is a commanded symbol. And the beauty of this symbol is unsurpassed. This simple symbol--lowering someone into the water and raising them back up again--communicates Christian truth on three levels:
1. It symbolizes the washing away of our sins. (My daughter Abigail earlier in life told me that she wanted to be "bath-tized," and I thought how funny that was; then it occured to me how close she really was! As we get cleaned up on the outside in a bath, baptism symbolizes how we get cleaned up on the inside!)
2. It tells the story of Jesus. When a person is lowered into the water, it symbolizes the death and burial of Jesus. The bringing of the person out of the water represents the resurrection of Jesus--how God raised Him from the dead. In baptism, the gospel is preached!
3. It tells the person's story. The Bible says we are "buried with Jesus in baptism" and "raised to walk in newness of life." Baptism tells onlookers that the person being baptized is changed. The old person has "passed away." Everything has "become new." The new person follows Jesus.
Several months ago, Becky began to talk to me about baptizing the boys. We finally decided that Father's Day would be a very appropriate time. When Jesus was baptized, a voice was heard from heaven saying, "This is my Son, whom I love. With him I am well pleased." I know that there was another father in heaven who likewise is well-pleased with the sons that he loves.
At least a dozen family members and friends of the Normans were at the service to share in this special time. Someone said it was a shame that Steve couldn't be there. I told the congregation that I wasn't sure what folks in heaven are and are not able to do regarding earth, but I asked God today to allow Steve to view our proceedings, and I have a sense that would be something the Father would be pleased to do. (I also shared with the folks at lunch that I also prayed that Steve would wait for me until he told everyone else the dog story...)
I am grateful for the time with Normans today, both in the service and at lunch. It made for a great Father's Day for us all.
For those who did not have the pleasure of knowing my friend Steve, I am including a portion of the remarks that I made at his funeral three years ago. I think it will give you a flavor of his uniqueness.
This is from the funeral of March 3, 2005, after his death on March 1:
Steve is the most brilliant person I have ever known. He could figure out and fix anything, whether it was schoolwork, or computers, or cars, or something around the house. How ironic it is that this “beautiful mind” he possessed betrayed him in the last years. I had always thought I was smart until I saw Steve come up with unique ways of looking at problems and finding solutions. He proved himself as brilliant, not only in his schoolwork or in rigging up little inventions around the apartment or the house, but in other areas as well. We both liked puzzles like the Jumble. I would often be working on it and was normally pretty good. But I almost always had to write down the letters to get the answer. It always unnerved me a little when Steve would look at the Jumble over my shoulder. While I was writing combinations of letters down, hoping I would hit something familiar, Steve would in his head get all the words and the puzzle and then say, “That’s pretty cute.” We also have had a good time with the Car Talk puzzlers over the years. Steve had a wonderfully nimble mind.
Steve’s genius was confirmed in his idiosyncrasies. He was, in some ways, the “absent-minded professor.” One day while living on campus at Tech, he drove his old Mustang to the Student Center to pick up his mail. He got distracted talking to some folks and walked back to the dorm. The next morning he got up but couldn’t find his car—and it didn’t occur to him that it was at the Student Center. So, he called the police to report his car missing. He found it himself a few weeks later—happened to walk by it and finally remembered. Jim Haskell wonders why he would think the Mustang was stolen. Who would take it? This is the car that, when Steve would take a sharp left hand turn, the passenger door would fly wide open. Now, why didn’t he fix that? I think it was because it served a dual purpose on dates: if he liked the girl, it gave him an excuse to reach out and grab her. If he didn’t like her, well, it gave him an easy way to get rid of her.
Let me say one more thing about his brilliance. It went beyond mere computing power. Steve was brilliant because he knew his limits. One Saturday a bunch of us were at the old gym here at Second-Ponce, playing basketball. Steve was, as usual, playing in the middle, mixing it up with the other “big guys” while the little guys like me were staying safely outside. Apparently it got rather heated inside—a few elbows flew and words were exchanged. Finally Steve walked off the court and sat on the bench. He said, “I quit,” and nothing more. At first, some of us were thinking, “Come on, you’re a Christian; you can handle it. Without you we don’t have an even number of people.” I know, because those are the kinds of things we began to say to try to get him to come back and play. After a few moments of listening in silence, Steve finally spoke. “If I stay out there, I know I’m going to lose my cool. I don’t want to do that, so it’s better for me to take myself out and calm down over here.” We had thought Steve immature for quitting; his answer showed he was the one being mature. He knew that his limit had been reached. He knew the temptation that lay before him. He knew that God counsels us to get ourselves out of temptation’s way, to flee from it. He reminded me in that moment that many times we should remove ourselves from difficult circumstances instead of staying in them, that the “way of escape” often involves taking just the kind of action that Steve did that day.
Yes, Steve was brilliant, but not everybody knew that. That’s because he often kept it well-hidden behind a unique sense of humor. I know that others would have more colorful descriptions of his humor, but since I shared it in every way, I think unique will suffice.
This sense of humor is well illustrated in one of his famous escapades with Linn Acuff. In college days, they were headed to Florida for a vacation, and they were going to meet up with Cindy—Lin’s wife, who he was dating at the time—and some friends in Cedartown. Steve and Lin plotted an elaborate hoax. Lin was to pull up his car in a parking lot where he was to meet Cindy and her friends. Lin would step away from the car but leave the keys in the ignition. Steve, who would be let off a block early, would disguise himself by putting on an old wig they had found, run to the car, hop in, crank it up, and take off. Lin would give chase in Cindy’s car. The plan called for them to turn off on a county road. Steve would stop the car by the side of the road and flee. Lin would give chase and catch him. They would tumble out of sight. Finally, Lin would emerge alone back to the car filled with frightened girls. When they asked the inevitable, “What happened?” Lin was to raise the wig he had taken from Steve’s head during the fight and say, “I scalped him.” And it would have worked, too—except for one thing. An alert Cedartown citizen witnessed the car theft and notified police. So, instead of two cars in the ensuing chase, there were three—and one of them had lights and sirens.
Steve had a lot of humorous adventures in his life, but I think he went on these adventures, not as much for the adventures themselves as for their story value. Steve loved more than anything else to tell stories. And if they happened to be true, so much the better.
I met Steve 30 years ago. He was 22, and I was 18. He was, of course, already bald on top at that age. One day I made the mistake of asking him why he was bald so early in life. “You’ve never heard this story?” he asked. “Well, I use to smoke cigars, and one day I was reading the newspaper, and my cigar fell out of my mouth and caught the newspaper on fire, and my hair was burned off and never grew back.” I bit: “Why didn’t you throw the newspaper down and run?” Steve said, “Well, I couldn’t get out my crib.”
I wish I had time to explain and tell you the Dog Joke—but Steve never let me tell it. I had to supply the laughter so people would think there was something funny in it and wonder why they couldn’t get the joke. Of course, they would often laugh, pretending they got the joke that wasn’t there. Or to tell you about Steve’s game called, “Name a State” or to tell you the true facts of the time we saved a man from floating off into space that turned into another wonderful story or about the ceramic owl that Bill Hunkin once made me that our families have surreptitiously smuggled to one another over the years. I wanted to put it in the casket, but someone said, “You’d really be surprised to see how Steve would get it back to you, then, wouldn’t you?”
Steve was brilliant, yes. And he certainly possessed a unique sense of humor. But his life is even more defined by the loves of his life.
Steve was a man who loved his family. Becky, Steve had dated many girls before he dated you. But he knew quickly that you were the one with whom he wanted to spend his life. So he pursued you and caught you. And he has always been glad for that. In the last couple of years, as Steve’s behavior changed but we didn’t know why and there was frustration and Steve and I spent extra time together, he told me that he wanted to do anything that would make him the husband you wanted. He loved you so much.
Children, how he loved you! What a great concept he and your mother came up with that he would take a trip with each of you at age 10. I know that those of you who got to take the trip were blessed. Remember and cherish that time forever. For those who did not—just know that your dad wanted so much to share that time with you. And several of us have been inspired to do the same with our families. Getting a late start, I do it at age 13. In Elizabeth Musser’s e-mail in memory of Steve, which many of you have read and all of you should, she mentions how they too have been inspired by the example set by Steve for trips with the children. My, how he loved you. Let me encourage you, as you face life without the physical presence of you father, to draw even closer together as a family. As you have drawn together in his sickness, let that continue in the months and years ahead. Remember the words of the Scripture:
“How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity.” You will honor your earthly father and your Heavenly Father as you put this into practice.
Steve not only loved his family.
Steve also loved the Lord Jesus and His church.
Yes, Steve loved Jesus, and he was what there are too few of in the world, in my estimation. He was an intellectual Christian. He didn’t just love Jesus with all his heart, all his soul, and all his strength. He loved him with all his mind. He liked to grapple with issues of faith. And he liked to help others grapple with those issues, too, whether it was through leading a Bible study or Sunday School class or simply engaging someone in conversation about the implications of what we say we believe. Steve didn’t want to have a faith that amounted to nothing more than window dressing. He possessed a faith that animated who he was and everything he did. He believed Jesus when He said, “I have come that you might have life, and might have it more abundantly.” Steve loved life. He loved his family. He loved His Lord. He loved this church and has been committed to her ministry through the past 30 years. And he died, by my reckoning, at least 30 years too soon.
When we learned of the Pick’s Disease, we didn’t know much about it. The one thing that we knew frightened us: it makes people less inhibited. Or, disinhibited, as Steve said it. Steve Norman, never possessing much inhibition to start with, was going to be less so? But we saw that happen. And many other things. We saw obsessions with washing and clothing and such things. I took him for a walk in the park near his house a few months back. He got tired and asked me to go get the van. When I got back, I couldn’t find him. I ran around asking people if they had seen a guy with a walker. No one had. I finally found him. In the park, there is a water treatment plant surrounded by a 6 foot iron fence and gate. I noticed Steve up in the air, straddling the top of the gate, with his walker hanging on the gate. He got it in his mind that he need to be on the other side of the gate and tried to climb over, but he couldn’t do it himself. And as I was taking him to a Tech game in the fall, as we were driving down Roswell Road near Buckhead, Steve kept unbuckling his seat belt and opening the car door as we were driving 40 miles an hour. And if I saw these things in my infrequent visits, how much more the family struggled day by day.
We knew that, barring a miracle, death would be the end result of this disease. It has come, and it has taken all of us by surprise at its suddenness. Death remains a great mystery. As Nurse Margaret Houlihan said in a M*A*S*H episode many years ago, “I’ve seen it many times, but I still don’t understand it. One minute you’re alive. The next minute you’re dead.” While all of us are sad and death is frightening to most of us, I think we will be able to say that in this case, death has come as a friend. None of us wanted to see Steve suffer and not be able to live the life he loved so much living. He has been spared that. But death cannot be a friend by removing physical suffering alone. Death can only be a friend when we are confident of what comes after death and that we see that as good. While none of us has been able to die and come back to report what it is like on the other side, we have One who has—our Lord Jesus Christ. And this One, who would never lie to us, even to make us feel better, said,
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don't know where you are going, so how can we know the way?” Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” He also said, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies.” [John 14.1-6; 11.25]
Death does not write the final chapter of life. Steve has a strong faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, and he is there with Him today. And those of us who share that faith in Jesus Christ will see him again. How we look forward to that day.
Let me close by making one last observation. True to God’s promise that He causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purpose, I want to point out that there have been some hidden blessings that have come out of Steve’s illness. First, Becky, we have seen the body of Christ unite in a way that has been so encouraging to witness. While the body of Christ is often divided, we have seen the Spirit of God work in such a marvelous way as people have poured out their love to Steve and you, Becky, during this time. Your house is a tangible reminder of the strength and blessing of God. And, as funny as this may seem, there has even been a hidden blessing in the disinhibiting of Steve, at least to me personally. Several times in the past months, Steve has said, “Fred O., you’re my best friend.” And on one of my last times at the house as we sat around the kitchen table and I was rising to leave, Steve said something that I have long known but I had probably never heard. Steve looked up and said, “I love you, Fred O.”
I love you, too, Steve. We all do.