The Pittsburg Steelers bulldozed their way through opponents into a National Football League SuperBowl championship last year.
This year, they didn't even make the playoffs.
The Indianapolis Colts team won 13 straight NFL regular-season games last year, seemingly with ease, then collapsed against the mediocre San Diego Chargers. The Colts started off the 2006 season with 9 straight wins, exhibiting more flashes of greatness.
Yet now, their hopes for a bye before the playoffs start depend on at least one other team.
After winning two Masters Tournaments and a PGA Championship, Phil Mickelson made such an egregious error on the final hole of the 2006 U.S. Open that he groaned "I can't believe I did that. I am such an idiot!"
Not exactly the sort of statement one would want to hang his legacy on.
From the defeat of the NBA's Lakers at the hands of the Detroit Pistons to the knockout of Mike Tyson by a then-unknown Buster Douglas, the sports world is replete with such tales of catastrophic cave-ins.
What is it that causes such devastating crash-and-burn by some of the greatest men and women in their respective fields?
The same thing that causes preachers to stumble: we forget how we got here.
After winning the 1999 PGA Championship, Tiger Woods then won six of the next ten PGA majors, establishing himself as one of the greatest in the sport. He fired his swing coach, Butch Harmon, and promptly went into a downward spiral, not winning a major for almost a three-year drought. It wasn’t Harmon that was playing the game, true...but it was Harmon who coached Tiger to the #1 spot in the game.
Many preachers fail not because they are tempted to sin, but because they forget their beginnings. We are cautious enough---and well-rehearsed enough---to quickly state "I give God all the glory" when someone makes a kind remark about our ministry. Yet the harsh reality is that we all tend to dip our hand in the till from time to time.
God bestows upon His servants honor from time to time; scripture even states "Give honor to whom it is due". There is quite a difference, however, in allowing God to honor us (however He chooses) and attempting to share in His Glory. God flatly states, "My glory will I not give to another."
Notice that scripture states in Rom. 12:3 that "...every man that is among you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think; but to think soberly..." This does not mean we are to grovel as abject failures. It does point out, however, that we are to keep things in proper perspective. We should be proud to be called to serve God, but always mindful that, except for His grace, we would be as hopelessly lost as the wretch clutching a wine bottle in the gutter.
The short walk from swaggering to staggering begins when we forget how we got to where we are, regardless of where that may be in our personal life or ministry. Some have been allowed to reach lofty heights of recognition, yet they still maintain an humble spirit. Others, strangely enough, may find themselves wallowing in obscurity, unknown to anyone but their own community, yet God is unable to promote them to greater ministry, because they feel they've reached these accomplishments (however small they may be) all on their own merit.
Certainly there are few (if any!) that would negate the necessity of prayer and study, of keeping in touch with God. However, there seems to be a trend to lean on the feeble crutch of technology, a reliance on reading extracurricular materials, rather than a total dependence upon God and His Word. Let us never forget that time spent with God is how we began this journey into ministry!
I was once moved in the Spirit to scribble in the margin of my bible these words: "No man is so strong as the one who is helplessly dependent on God." The apostle Paul was a man who had everything to brag about, yet his attitude was "I count all things but dung, that I may win Christ." In spite of all he had to proffer his hearers---a rich Hebrew heritage, Pharisee credentials, and even "third-heaven" spiritual revelations---Paul never forget his Damascus experience.
Have I forgotten mine?
Oh to be so consumed with "winning Christ" that nothing else matters! Yet I fear that failure will not be the enemy to destroy our preachers nearly so much as success will.
It is but a short journey from confidence to collapse. If we ever forget that it is God who brought us to this point, we will discover that our swagger dissolves with lightning speed into the pathetic stagger of a helpless cripple with nothing to offer.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Sometimes You Serve; Sometimes You Just Sit
Sometimes you serve God; other times you just sit.
It would seem that the "sitting" part is easy; after all, we all need a little break from the tedium of serving sometimes. Even the work of the Lord can become monotonous and draining at times. This applies to both pastors and evangelists; neither office is a prelude to glamor or a life of ease.
Someone once wrote a song that states "Serving God is beautiful" and it's true that being a servant of God is a wonderful privilege. But let's face it: sometimes serving becomes less than glamorous, and we long for a respite. We're human, and as humans, there's a part of us that is still self-serving, that still wants to do our own thing. Sometimes, we just want a break!
So why is sitting so difficult?
In Luke 10:38-42, we read where Martha served while Mary sat. And Jesus, when pressed by Martha to send Mary into the kitchen to help, replied that "one thing is needful..." indicating that sitting is more important than serving.
So why is sitting so difficult?
I believe it's because we are people of action, and inactivity makes us nervous. There are those who have mastered the art of waiting patiently. (Indeed, some have taken it to extreme levels of "do-nothing" disguised as "waiting on God".) Yet for some, sitting can be more distressing than the drain of servitude.
I have found myself in a time of "sitting" more times than I would like. I'm in such a season even now, and the frustration of doing what appears to be nothing has been difficult to deal with. I am a person of action. If I were a football player, I'd play offense; defensive strategies---just try and keep the other guy from scoring---aren't my style. I want to be a part of what's happening! And now, to think that I am merely letting the world go by, watching the Church experience the greatest time of apostolic revival and growth without being a part of it, is almost maddening.
Isaiah tells us, in the oft-quoted verse, that "...they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength..." The secret, however, is not merely in the waiting. I believe the whole purpose of these times of sitting, instead of serving, is found in the previously mentioned story of Mary & Martha:
Luke 10:39 And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard his word. (KJV)
The Message words it like this: [Martha] had a sister, Mary, who sat before the Master, hanging on every word he said.
Mary was not seated at Jesus' feet simply because she didn't want to help Martha; she was not attempting to escape the call of the kitchen by finding a place in the circle gathered around the Master. Instead, she was captivated by His voice, listening to what He taught His disciples and those around Him.
Perhaps in this time of "waiting on the Lord", this period of sitting, I should listen to what He's saying. Instead of chafing at my own inactivity, I should use this opportunity as a chance to hear His voice.
There are times that we voluntarily disengage from the burden of ministry, and those times are needed. (Jesus Himself taught the value of withdrawing from the multitudes for a season of personal refreshing and reviving.) There are other times when God, for reasons known only to Him, may call us from servitude into sitting.
I don't believe, however, that God ever calls us to sit as a form of punishment, a spiritual "time-out", if you please.
Rather, it is in these times that the greatest opportunity for personal growth and maturity in the Spirit can occur, because it is during these seasons of sitting that, if we allow ourselves, we can find a place at His feet, and hear what He's trying to teach us.
It would seem that the "sitting" part is easy; after all, we all need a little break from the tedium of serving sometimes. Even the work of the Lord can become monotonous and draining at times. This applies to both pastors and evangelists; neither office is a prelude to glamor or a life of ease.
Someone once wrote a song that states "Serving God is beautiful" and it's true that being a servant of God is a wonderful privilege. But let's face it: sometimes serving becomes less than glamorous, and we long for a respite. We're human, and as humans, there's a part of us that is still self-serving, that still wants to do our own thing. Sometimes, we just want a break!
So why is sitting so difficult?
In Luke 10:38-42, we read where Martha served while Mary sat. And Jesus, when pressed by Martha to send Mary into the kitchen to help, replied that "one thing is needful..." indicating that sitting is more important than serving.
So why is sitting so difficult?
I believe it's because we are people of action, and inactivity makes us nervous. There are those who have mastered the art of waiting patiently. (Indeed, some have taken it to extreme levels of "do-nothing" disguised as "waiting on God".) Yet for some, sitting can be more distressing than the drain of servitude.
I have found myself in a time of "sitting" more times than I would like. I'm in such a season even now, and the frustration of doing what appears to be nothing has been difficult to deal with. I am a person of action. If I were a football player, I'd play offense; defensive strategies---just try and keep the other guy from scoring---aren't my style. I want to be a part of what's happening! And now, to think that I am merely letting the world go by, watching the Church experience the greatest time of apostolic revival and growth without being a part of it, is almost maddening.
Isaiah tells us, in the oft-quoted verse, that "...they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength..." The secret, however, is not merely in the waiting. I believe the whole purpose of these times of sitting, instead of serving, is found in the previously mentioned story of Mary & Martha:
Luke 10:39 And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard his word. (KJV)
The Message words it like this: [Martha] had a sister, Mary, who sat before the Master, hanging on every word he said.
Mary was not seated at Jesus' feet simply because she didn't want to help Martha; she was not attempting to escape the call of the kitchen by finding a place in the circle gathered around the Master. Instead, she was captivated by His voice, listening to what He taught His disciples and those around Him.
Perhaps in this time of "waiting on the Lord", this period of sitting, I should listen to what He's saying. Instead of chafing at my own inactivity, I should use this opportunity as a chance to hear His voice.
There are times that we voluntarily disengage from the burden of ministry, and those times are needed. (Jesus Himself taught the value of withdrawing from the multitudes for a season of personal refreshing and reviving.) There are other times when God, for reasons known only to Him, may call us from servitude into sitting.
I don't believe, however, that God ever calls us to sit as a form of punishment, a spiritual "time-out", if you please.
Rather, it is in these times that the greatest opportunity for personal growth and maturity in the Spirit can occur, because it is during these seasons of sitting that, if we allow ourselves, we can find a place at His feet, and hear what He's trying to teach us.
Monday, December 18, 2006
When The Majestic Becomes Mundane
There's an old saying that refers to "making a mountain out of a molehill"; that is, turning something trivial or insignificant into something massive, even insurmountable.
How long does it take to make a molehill out of a mountain?
Several years ago, my wife and I visited Grand Junction, Colorado on a ministry-related trip. While we were there, the host pastor took us up into the Colorado National Monument, which was practically in his back yard. A mere five-minute drive and we were in some of the most impressive, awe-inspiring terrain that one can experience in North America.
We ascended the road up the side of the mountain, until at last we sat at the pinnacle of the Monument, overlooking the valley below us. The rugged terrain, the canyon walls, the whispering of the cool breeze was almost more than my mind could take in; I sat in awe and watched as a golden eagle glided past at eye level. The overall presence, the sense of majesty was incredible...judging by these feeble words I write, it was truly beyond description.
The pastor sat humming quietly, looking over his calendar, taking care of some routine paperwork. He commented once or twice but his overall demeanor was one of detached boredom.
How long does it take for the majestic to become mundane?
This is not a potshot at one particular person; this is an observation of human nature. Undoubtedly the breath-taking autumn colors of New England become commonplace, the lofty grandeur of the Rockies becomes a snow-covered nuisance, the stark beauty of Arches National Park is reduced to just "a bunch of rocks", to those who have spent their lives surrounded by these breathtaking wonders.
The sights and wonders that I see on my calendars, and long to partake of in reality, are ordinary fixtures to others who live in such environments on a daily basis.
When did the majestic become mundane?
This thought came to me one morning in prayer. I was having what I considered "good prayer"...the kind that makes you feel good about yourself, about what you're doing; makes you feel like you've spent time with the Lord. It was obviously more than just a morning ritual to let God know that I had shown up for roll call. Things were happening in my spirit, I felt the Holy Ghost...the power, the adrenaline rush, the ecstasy that comes with knowing that you're involved in "one-on-one" with God Himself.
God Himself.
And that's when it hit me.
I sit here trying to describe the shock and terror of such a realization, but words fail me.
I was in the presence of the Almighty. The very One who spoke all things into existence, the King of Kings was there in my closet of prayer...and I was patting myself on the back, feeling good about spending time with Him.
How had I come to such a familiarity with the Eternal God? Undoubtedly it happened the same way the splendor of the Colorado National Monument became just another overlook to my pastor friend. He had access to it anytime; it was but a short drive from his home, and he had been there for many years.
I've no doubt that, when he and his family first arrived, they spent many evenings up on the peak of that landscape, sitting in similar awe at the beauty of God's creation, watching the eagles glide effortlessly past. Likewise, I can imagine that those who relocate from the 100-degree summers of Texas to the frigid winters of Wyoming probably revel in the glorious pristine beauty of the first few snows.
I was born and raised in Texas, where "autumn" falls on a weekend between miserable humid summers and gray slushy winters. The few years my family and I spent in Missouri, the brilliance of the autumn colors was breathtaking, and many spring evenings were spent just driving the back roads of the countryside, enjoying the fresh scents of the season of new life. It was all new and amazing to me.
Have I become so familiar with God that He is no longer amazing to me? Has His majesty become dulled to me because I am considered His son? Have I, in my daily talks with Him, forgotten that this is the very God of all Creation to whom I am speaking?
We have, at times, praised Queen Vashti for refusing to come before the audience of King Ahasuerus, calling it a "cheapening experience". Whether the King desired some sort of vulgar strip-tease or whether he simply desired to show off her beauty we may not know. We do know one thing: the Queen's familiarity with the King ultimately caused her own demise. She became so comfortable in her role as Queen that she forgot that Ahasuerus was still His Majesty the King.
Esther, on the other hand, recognized her place. Although clearly loved by the king, Esther approached the throne as any other commoner: with fear and trepidation. She understood that, if the sceptre was not extended, granting her an audience with the king, even the life of the queen was expendable.
There is a danger of becoming too familiar with the Presence of God that we lose our awe and reverence of Him. Even sitting here writing this, I have wept and repented for losing what has been, in times past, a fear and trembling at His Glory and majesty.
He is God, and I---to use the words of the Psalmist---"am a worm, and no man." Even David, a man after God's own heart, said "What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?" David committed gross error on more than one occasion, but you would be hard-pressed to find where he ever lost his sense of awe and fear of the Almighty.
I understand that God does not expect me to wallow in fear and terror every time I come to talk with Him; however, I should beware, lest I risk becoming presumptuous and forget my place at His feet.
May we never lose our fear and reverence for the God who called us out of darkness into His marvelous light. May we never make a molehill out a mountain.
God forbid that the Majesty of His Glory should ever become mundane.
How long does it take to make a molehill out of a mountain?
Several years ago, my wife and I visited Grand Junction, Colorado on a ministry-related trip. While we were there, the host pastor took us up into the Colorado National Monument, which was practically in his back yard. A mere five-minute drive and we were in some of the most impressive, awe-inspiring terrain that one can experience in North America.
We ascended the road up the side of the mountain, until at last we sat at the pinnacle of the Monument, overlooking the valley below us. The rugged terrain, the canyon walls, the whispering of the cool breeze was almost more than my mind could take in; I sat in awe and watched as a golden eagle glided past at eye level. The overall presence, the sense of majesty was incredible...judging by these feeble words I write, it was truly beyond description.
The pastor sat humming quietly, looking over his calendar, taking care of some routine paperwork. He commented once or twice but his overall demeanor was one of detached boredom.
How long does it take for the majestic to become mundane?
This is not a potshot at one particular person; this is an observation of human nature. Undoubtedly the breath-taking autumn colors of New England become commonplace, the lofty grandeur of the Rockies becomes a snow-covered nuisance, the stark beauty of Arches National Park is reduced to just "a bunch of rocks", to those who have spent their lives surrounded by these breathtaking wonders.
The sights and wonders that I see on my calendars, and long to partake of in reality, are ordinary fixtures to others who live in such environments on a daily basis.
When did the majestic become mundane?
This thought came to me one morning in prayer. I was having what I considered "good prayer"...the kind that makes you feel good about yourself, about what you're doing; makes you feel like you've spent time with the Lord. It was obviously more than just a morning ritual to let God know that I had shown up for roll call. Things were happening in my spirit, I felt the Holy Ghost...the power, the adrenaline rush, the ecstasy that comes with knowing that you're involved in "one-on-one" with God Himself.
God Himself.
And that's when it hit me.
I sit here trying to describe the shock and terror of such a realization, but words fail me.
I was in the presence of the Almighty. The very One who spoke all things into existence, the King of Kings was there in my closet of prayer...and I was patting myself on the back, feeling good about spending time with Him.
How had I come to such a familiarity with the Eternal God? Undoubtedly it happened the same way the splendor of the Colorado National Monument became just another overlook to my pastor friend. He had access to it anytime; it was but a short drive from his home, and he had been there for many years.
I've no doubt that, when he and his family first arrived, they spent many evenings up on the peak of that landscape, sitting in similar awe at the beauty of God's creation, watching the eagles glide effortlessly past. Likewise, I can imagine that those who relocate from the 100-degree summers of Texas to the frigid winters of Wyoming probably revel in the glorious pristine beauty of the first few snows.
I was born and raised in Texas, where "autumn" falls on a weekend between miserable humid summers and gray slushy winters. The few years my family and I spent in Missouri, the brilliance of the autumn colors was breathtaking, and many spring evenings were spent just driving the back roads of the countryside, enjoying the fresh scents of the season of new life. It was all new and amazing to me.
Have I become so familiar with God that He is no longer amazing to me? Has His majesty become dulled to me because I am considered His son? Have I, in my daily talks with Him, forgotten that this is the very God of all Creation to whom I am speaking?
We have, at times, praised Queen Vashti for refusing to come before the audience of King Ahasuerus, calling it a "cheapening experience". Whether the King desired some sort of vulgar strip-tease or whether he simply desired to show off her beauty we may not know. We do know one thing: the Queen's familiarity with the King ultimately caused her own demise. She became so comfortable in her role as Queen that she forgot that Ahasuerus was still His Majesty the King.
Esther, on the other hand, recognized her place. Although clearly loved by the king, Esther approached the throne as any other commoner: with fear and trepidation. She understood that, if the sceptre was not extended, granting her an audience with the king, even the life of the queen was expendable.
There is a danger of becoming too familiar with the Presence of God that we lose our awe and reverence of Him. Even sitting here writing this, I have wept and repented for losing what has been, in times past, a fear and trembling at His Glory and majesty.
He is God, and I---to use the words of the Psalmist---"am a worm, and no man." Even David, a man after God's own heart, said "What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?" David committed gross error on more than one occasion, but you would be hard-pressed to find where he ever lost his sense of awe and fear of the Almighty.
I understand that God does not expect me to wallow in fear and terror every time I come to talk with Him; however, I should beware, lest I risk becoming presumptuous and forget my place at His feet.
May we never lose our fear and reverence for the God who called us out of darkness into His marvelous light. May we never make a molehill out a mountain.
God forbid that the Majesty of His Glory should ever become mundane.
Friday, December 15, 2006
There's no tree...
I bought a candle yesterday while out Christmas shopping. (For obvious reasons, I will refrain from using the actual name of the manufacturer, but it was obviously a well-known brand..from up north.) I was actually shopping for other family members, but they had these new fragrances, and my wife and I are partial to this particular brand anyway, so I picked up a candle for our home, as well.
"Sparkling Pine" the scent is called. It's absolutely wonderful, and even more so here during the Christmas season when the home is supposed to be filled with the fragrance of a Christmas tree. This is not the first time we've used a candle to fill the home with this sweet aroma; last year we used a different label---that fragrance was simply entitled "Christmas Tree"---but the result was the same: it filled our home with the aroma of a freshly cut tree.
I brought the candle home, and about a hour before my wife arrived home from work, I lit the wick, set it up on the mantle, and let it burn. When my wife walked in, the first thing she did was sniff deeply and comment about the fragrance.
It smells like Christmas in our house now.
We've never had a tree. But it smells like Christmas.
I woke at 5:15 this morning thinking about the candle. It wasn't burning. I couldn't smell it. I wasn't thinking the house might be on fire.
I was thinking instead about how some folks try to replace the genuine with something that looks, smells, sounds like the real thing. But there's no tree.
We can light this candle, turn on the Christmas music, even have the wreath over the mantle, the holly placed strategically throughout the house for decoration...we even have the gifts. But the one thing that's missing is the tree.
(There are those among us who frown on the pagan tradition of Christmas trees. I've never had a problem with them, and the closest I'll come to "bowing down before it" is rooting around looking for presents with my name on them. If that's a sin, pray for me.)
I'm much more concerned with folks who try to replace their Christian experience with something that might look similar, sound similar, feel similar...but there's no Tree involved. There's no Calvary. There's no cross. There's no sacrifice.
Christianity without the cross? It's very popular these days. It looks the same, sounds the same, feels pretty close (actually it doesn't, but you can't convince some folks of that) but it doesn't require the Tree.
It doesn't require the bloody mess of Jesus' broken, dying body, racked with pain, being literally slammed against the harsh splinters of his Roman cross with every breath He inhales and exhales. The crucifixion was beyond words in its horrific cruelty, yet some have tried to paint a beautiful glowing picture of a gentle soul, eyes rolled heavenward, a trickle of blood from his wrists and feet.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
The truth of the matter is that Jesus was almost unrecognizable as a human being by the time He drew His last breath. I have heard preachers criticized because they went into graphic detail concerning the last moments of Jesus' life on the cross, but alas, my dear friend...there is no pretty way to describe the death throes of Calvary.
Likewise, there is no easy way to describe the cross that each of us are required to carry to be His disciple. As someone recently stated, "Salvation is free, but discipleship has a cost."
We cannot have Christianity without a tree involved. It doesn't matter what it may look like, sound like, feel like. We're not dealing with a fake Christmas scent here, designed to make the house smell like the holidays without the mess of pine needles strewn on the floor. Christianity can be messy, demanding, exacting a toll on each of its followers, and there is no substitution for the tree. Jesus Himself said, "If any man will be my disciple, let him come, take up his cross daily and follow me."
Is it any wonder that so many are trying to be Christians without the cross? It's a hard price to pay, and, just as in those days, so today many refuse to walk with Him when it becomes obvious that it cannot be done without the Tree.
In the fourteen years I've been married, my wife and I have never had a Christmas tree in our home. It's not that we don't want one; we've just never had a place to put one. So, we've found alternate methods of bringing the Christmas spirit into our home: the fragrance can be bottled up and marketed in a candle.
But there's no tree.
When it comes to Christianity, many have the fragrance, the decor, the lights, the sounds...even the Gifts.
But if there's no Tree, it's not the real thing.
"Sparkling Pine" the scent is called. It's absolutely wonderful, and even more so here during the Christmas season when the home is supposed to be filled with the fragrance of a Christmas tree. This is not the first time we've used a candle to fill the home with this sweet aroma; last year we used a different label---that fragrance was simply entitled "Christmas Tree"---but the result was the same: it filled our home with the aroma of a freshly cut tree.
I brought the candle home, and about a hour before my wife arrived home from work, I lit the wick, set it up on the mantle, and let it burn. When my wife walked in, the first thing she did was sniff deeply and comment about the fragrance.
It smells like Christmas in our house now.
We've never had a tree. But it smells like Christmas.
I woke at 5:15 this morning thinking about the candle. It wasn't burning. I couldn't smell it. I wasn't thinking the house might be on fire.
I was thinking instead about how some folks try to replace the genuine with something that looks, smells, sounds like the real thing. But there's no tree.
We can light this candle, turn on the Christmas music, even have the wreath over the mantle, the holly placed strategically throughout the house for decoration...we even have the gifts. But the one thing that's missing is the tree.
(There are those among us who frown on the pagan tradition of Christmas trees. I've never had a problem with them, and the closest I'll come to "bowing down before it" is rooting around looking for presents with my name on them. If that's a sin, pray for me.)
I'm much more concerned with folks who try to replace their Christian experience with something that might look similar, sound similar, feel similar...but there's no Tree involved. There's no Calvary. There's no cross. There's no sacrifice.
Christianity without the cross? It's very popular these days. It looks the same, sounds the same, feels pretty close (actually it doesn't, but you can't convince some folks of that) but it doesn't require the Tree.
It doesn't require the bloody mess of Jesus' broken, dying body, racked with pain, being literally slammed against the harsh splinters of his Roman cross with every breath He inhales and exhales. The crucifixion was beyond words in its horrific cruelty, yet some have tried to paint a beautiful glowing picture of a gentle soul, eyes rolled heavenward, a trickle of blood from his wrists and feet.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
The truth of the matter is that Jesus was almost unrecognizable as a human being by the time He drew His last breath. I have heard preachers criticized because they went into graphic detail concerning the last moments of Jesus' life on the cross, but alas, my dear friend...there is no pretty way to describe the death throes of Calvary.
Likewise, there is no easy way to describe the cross that each of us are required to carry to be His disciple. As someone recently stated, "Salvation is free, but discipleship has a cost."
We cannot have Christianity without a tree involved. It doesn't matter what it may look like, sound like, feel like. We're not dealing with a fake Christmas scent here, designed to make the house smell like the holidays without the mess of pine needles strewn on the floor. Christianity can be messy, demanding, exacting a toll on each of its followers, and there is no substitution for the tree. Jesus Himself said, "If any man will be my disciple, let him come, take up his cross daily and follow me."
Is it any wonder that so many are trying to be Christians without the cross? It's a hard price to pay, and, just as in those days, so today many refuse to walk with Him when it becomes obvious that it cannot be done without the Tree.
In the fourteen years I've been married, my wife and I have never had a Christmas tree in our home. It's not that we don't want one; we've just never had a place to put one. So, we've found alternate methods of bringing the Christmas spirit into our home: the fragrance can be bottled up and marketed in a candle.
But there's no tree.
When it comes to Christianity, many have the fragrance, the decor, the lights, the sounds...even the Gifts.
But if there's no Tree, it's not the real thing.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Focus...Jesus
It's funny---sometimes---how being forced to slow down and wait can make you observe things that you probably would have missed otherwise. Such is the source of my writing this morning...
After dropping my youngest child off at school one morning this past week, I found myself in a line of cars all waiting to exit the parking lot. Directly in front of me was a smallish vehicle, a newer model built by Ford Motor Co. On the upper-left corner of the trunk was the model name: FOCUS. Directly opposite, on the upper-right corner, someone had placed a simple bumper sticker with one word: JESUS. The correlation of these two words screamed a message at me that could not be ignored.
Where is my focus? What is my focus? Am I focused at all?
It is so easy to get caught up in the daily grind, so easy to get swept away with the political and societal issues of the day, those within the sanctity of the church, as well as those outside. Even within the supposed sanctuary of the religious organization of which I am part, there lies the potential to get caught up in the issues, the hot topics, the political firestorms, that we tend to lose our focus on what really matters.
We point fingers at those we disagree with, and we slap backs & high-five those who think, act, preach and teach like we do. We get caught up in the debates about who's doing what, why they're doing it, who's going to be the greatest in the kingdom, etc, and never realize that we're in danger of missing what we should be focused on.
FOCUS...JESUS
It's still all about Him. It's still His Kingdom, and He will continue to do what He has planned from the beginning of time. If I choose to be a part of it, then I have to readjust my focus, and tune back in to Jesus, to what He wants, to what He expects of me. The mundane things of day-to-day life will take care of themselves. Jesus even told His disciples at one point "You've got enough trouble for one day; don't worry about what's around the corner." (That's a paraphrase, but I'm sure it will suffice.)
Not coincidentally, just before He spoke these very words, Jesus had just taught His disciples, along with the multitude on the mountain, about "focus". In Matt. 6 we find a portion of the "Sermon on the Mount", and Jesus had just wrapped up by telling His listeners to "seek ye first the Kingdom of God..."
I don't believe God wants us to live in a shell, secluded or ostracized from the rest of society. I don't believe, as some do, that God expects us to live a life of poverty or total sacrifice; as a matter of interest, John tells us "Beloved, I pray that you may prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers." 3 John 2-3 (NKJV) I believe, however, that the secret behind this is in maintaining the proper focus. We are to seek first the Kingdom; we are to focus on God, and on what is right and best for His Kingdom. It's a matter of where our focus is.
FOCUS...JESUS
I am legally blind, by my optometrist's professional opinion. I have worn glasses since first grade, and have gotten progressively worse through the years. At age 43, the rate is accelerating, and I can no longer do some of the things I used to do. For instance, I have enjoyed success as a welder in the past, but due to the need to focus on precision welds, I have failed more welding tests, and lost more potential job opportunities, because my eyes can no longer focus.
It's not only a frustrating thing; it's also a tiny bit scary when your eyes will no longer bring things into focus. Reading an atlas (something every preacher does, I think, from time to time; it's fantasy escapism at its best) has become next-to-impossible because of the fine print. Even reading a bible isn't easy anymore. I told my wife just yesterday that the next atlas I buy will have to be one of those "large-print editions" for senior travellers. And I'm only 43. I can't stomach the thought of walking to a platform with a giant-print bible...
New glasses might fix the problem; I've even considered the new surgical methods of vision correction. Thousands of dollars, yes...but to restore my ability to focus...you better believe it's worth it.
FOCUS...JESUS
Where is my focus? It should be on Jesus, first and foremost. I must remember that I am the servant, and He is the Master. I am the disciple; He is the Teacher. I am the clay, but He is the Potter and Maker of this vessel. It is imperative that I keep these aspects of relationship in the proper perspective, lest I become familiar with Him, and lose my focus.
What is the object of my focus? It should be the Kingdom of God, and His righteousness first of all. Let all these things be added as He sees fit, not as I demand them. Even the disciples managed to lose their focus, though they walked with Him daily. They debated amongst themselves as to who would be the greatest, while strangely losing sight of the Greatest among all. God manifest in human form walked with them, yet after only a few years of being His disciples, it suddenly became all about them and their role. How much easier is it for me to forget the object of my focus?
Am I still able to focus? Believe me when I tell you that this declining vision has opened my eyes to the more important things of life: Can I still focus on the things that truly matter? Is my spiritual vision waning along with my natural vision? Have I lost the ability to focus on the Master? Has He, like the tiny print of my atlas, or the miniscule lines in my bible, become blurred in my sight? Do I find myself being forced to squint to make out what He wants me to see?
Two words have served to clear up some of the blur in my heart's vision; I only pray that my sight will not fail me in the future.
FOCUS...JESUS
After dropping my youngest child off at school one morning this past week, I found myself in a line of cars all waiting to exit the parking lot. Directly in front of me was a smallish vehicle, a newer model built by Ford Motor Co. On the upper-left corner of the trunk was the model name: FOCUS. Directly opposite, on the upper-right corner, someone had placed a simple bumper sticker with one word: JESUS. The correlation of these two words screamed a message at me that could not be ignored.
Where is my focus? What is my focus? Am I focused at all?
It is so easy to get caught up in the daily grind, so easy to get swept away with the political and societal issues of the day, those within the sanctity of the church, as well as those outside. Even within the supposed sanctuary of the religious organization of which I am part, there lies the potential to get caught up in the issues, the hot topics, the political firestorms, that we tend to lose our focus on what really matters.
We point fingers at those we disagree with, and we slap backs & high-five those who think, act, preach and teach like we do. We get caught up in the debates about who's doing what, why they're doing it, who's going to be the greatest in the kingdom, etc, and never realize that we're in danger of missing what we should be focused on.
FOCUS...JESUS
It's still all about Him. It's still His Kingdom, and He will continue to do what He has planned from the beginning of time. If I choose to be a part of it, then I have to readjust my focus, and tune back in to Jesus, to what He wants, to what He expects of me. The mundane things of day-to-day life will take care of themselves. Jesus even told His disciples at one point "You've got enough trouble for one day; don't worry about what's around the corner." (That's a paraphrase, but I'm sure it will suffice.)
Not coincidentally, just before He spoke these very words, Jesus had just taught His disciples, along with the multitude on the mountain, about "focus". In Matt. 6 we find a portion of the "Sermon on the Mount", and Jesus had just wrapped up by telling His listeners to "seek ye first the Kingdom of God..."
I don't believe God wants us to live in a shell, secluded or ostracized from the rest of society. I don't believe, as some do, that God expects us to live a life of poverty or total sacrifice; as a matter of interest, John tells us "Beloved, I pray that you may prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers." 3 John 2-3 (NKJV) I believe, however, that the secret behind this is in maintaining the proper focus. We are to seek first the Kingdom; we are to focus on God, and on what is right and best for His Kingdom. It's a matter of where our focus is.
FOCUS...JESUS
I am legally blind, by my optometrist's professional opinion. I have worn glasses since first grade, and have gotten progressively worse through the years. At age 43, the rate is accelerating, and I can no longer do some of the things I used to do. For instance, I have enjoyed success as a welder in the past, but due to the need to focus on precision welds, I have failed more welding tests, and lost more potential job opportunities, because my eyes can no longer focus.
It's not only a frustrating thing; it's also a tiny bit scary when your eyes will no longer bring things into focus. Reading an atlas (something every preacher does, I think, from time to time; it's fantasy escapism at its best) has become next-to-impossible because of the fine print. Even reading a bible isn't easy anymore. I told my wife just yesterday that the next atlas I buy will have to be one of those "large-print editions" for senior travellers. And I'm only 43. I can't stomach the thought of walking to a platform with a giant-print bible...
New glasses might fix the problem; I've even considered the new surgical methods of vision correction. Thousands of dollars, yes...but to restore my ability to focus...you better believe it's worth it.
FOCUS...JESUS
Where is my focus? It should be on Jesus, first and foremost. I must remember that I am the servant, and He is the Master. I am the disciple; He is the Teacher. I am the clay, but He is the Potter and Maker of this vessel. It is imperative that I keep these aspects of relationship in the proper perspective, lest I become familiar with Him, and lose my focus.
What is the object of my focus? It should be the Kingdom of God, and His righteousness first of all. Let all these things be added as He sees fit, not as I demand them. Even the disciples managed to lose their focus, though they walked with Him daily. They debated amongst themselves as to who would be the greatest, while strangely losing sight of the Greatest among all. God manifest in human form walked with them, yet after only a few years of being His disciples, it suddenly became all about them and their role. How much easier is it for me to forget the object of my focus?
Am I still able to focus? Believe me when I tell you that this declining vision has opened my eyes to the more important things of life: Can I still focus on the things that truly matter? Is my spiritual vision waning along with my natural vision? Have I lost the ability to focus on the Master? Has He, like the tiny print of my atlas, or the miniscule lines in my bible, become blurred in my sight? Do I find myself being forced to squint to make out what He wants me to see?
Two words have served to clear up some of the blur in my heart's vision; I only pray that my sight will not fail me in the future.
FOCUS...JESUS
Thursday, November 16, 2006
The Prodigal of Time
prod·i·gal
(adj.)
a. Rashly or wastefully extravagant: prodigal expenditures on unneeded weaponry; a prodigal life.b. Giving or given in abundance; lavish or profuse: prodigal praise.
(noun)One who is given to wasteful luxury or extravagance.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Am I guilty of being a "prodigal son"?
The thought came to my heart today in prayer, and I confess that I was immediately smitten, convicted in my heart.
How much could I accomplish for the Kingdom in the time that I have been given? What could I do in the hours that I have each day? How could I have "paced" myself differently to accomplish more for God than what I have accomplished?
I confess that I am not good at time-management. Although my choleric-melancholy nature drives me to be extremely organized in many facets of my daily life, the truth is that Time somehow still slips through my fingers, and I find myself at the close of each day, each week, each month, and yes, each year wishing. Wishing I'd done something different; wishing I'd spent more time (or any time) in the Word; wishing I'd written the words of my heart into a blog, or a newspaper article, or a forum; wishing I'd actually started on that book that I've wanted to write for so long... I would've felt better if I'd just written that article I've thought about writing for so long.
But I didn't.
Somehow, another 24 hours has slipped through my fingers like sand...nay, like water. You see, it's possible to grasp just a tiny portion of sand as it slips through your fingers, because of the natural abrasive nature of sand. Water seeks the path of least resistance, however, and because of its fluid nature, is impossible to clutch or hold onto.
Another week has passed, and still I have not prayed 30 minutes a day like I promised myself during Sunday night's sermon that I would start doing; I have gone another week without fasting an entire day.
(There is a difference between "fasting" and merely postponing a meal, but that is another story, for another posting.)
Another month has dribbled away, and still I have not written the title page to that book that has been burning in my heart for at least two years now. Even worse, the article I told that publisher I wanted to share...he has yet to get that simple little 500-word column from me.
The end of the year is fast closing, and I look back at 2006 and the bewildered expression that is all too familiar comes again to my face, as I wonder what happened to the year.
I'm not a pastor; not a full-time evangelist; not a full-time staff member. I don't even hold a secular job, and haven't for over two years. So what have I done all day, every day? I try to tell folks "I'm a stay-at-home dad." When prospective employers call with telephone interviews, the question rings loud in my ears, "What have you been doing in this two-year gap on your resume?" I can envision the narrowed eyes, the suspicion on their face as they wonder what a healthy 43-year old guy---with a background in computer repair, welding, banking, customer support, you name it---has been doing. Did this guy win the lottery? Is he disabled? Is he leeching off of Workman's Comp? Is he just a slacker? They don't have to say it...but I know the question is there.
The sad thing is, in my prayer closet today, I "came to myself", just as the prodigal son of Luke 15 did. I realized that, yes...I have been a "slacker".
slack
(adj.)
a. negligent; careless; remiss
b. not busy; inactive
I have been "slack" in the time I could have given myself to the things of God. I have been slack in my personal growth and development, slack in things I could have done from this chair, this computer, to add to the Kingdom; slack in a variety of ways I could have, and should have, given my time and efforts to this business of "ministry".
Yet, like so many others, I fell prey to the mindset that, unless I was full-time, full-fledged, full-blown preaching---either as a pastor, or as an evangelist---that I wasn't really in "ministry".
Is writing really a ministry? How can you define "blogging" as a ministry? How can you justify writing stuff on WordShare or Pastor's Helper as ministry? Who would read your book if you ever did write it, anyway? That can't possibly be ministry. And people---especially other pastors---look at musician/singers as "entertainers", not ministers, so who are you trying to fool with that?
These are the things I struggled with in my mind, when I thought about Time and how much I should be giving to ministry.
Please don't crucify me.
It's a mindset that affects many, if not most. We're so given to setting "marks" for ourself, measures of achievement, standards of completion, and "ministry" has become synonymous with "preaching".
I know, and you know, that many can preach without ministering, and many more can minister without ever preaching.
So today, I purposed in my heart to "return home", to go back to my Calling, to give myself back to the Master's service. My calling is not merely to preach, although that is a fractional part; more especially, my call is to minister. I should be fulfilling that call in a variety of ways, even if it does not presently involve a pulpit.
Luke 12:48 ...unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required:
Like the prodigal of Luke 15, I find that I have "wasted [my] substance". The difference is that his substance was financial gain through an early inheritance; mine has been the hours, the days, the weeks, and even the years that God has given me.
Thus far, I realize I have been the prodigal of Time.
By the Grace of our Lord Jesus, that shall cease to be.
Reviving the faint. Restoring the fallen. Refreshing the weary.
Steve Shubert
(adj.)
a. Rashly or wastefully extravagant: prodigal expenditures on unneeded weaponry; a prodigal life.b. Giving or given in abundance; lavish or profuse: prodigal praise.
(noun)One who is given to wasteful luxury or extravagance.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Am I guilty of being a "prodigal son"?
The thought came to my heart today in prayer, and I confess that I was immediately smitten, convicted in my heart.
How much could I accomplish for the Kingdom in the time that I have been given? What could I do in the hours that I have each day? How could I have "paced" myself differently to accomplish more for God than what I have accomplished?
I confess that I am not good at time-management. Although my choleric-melancholy nature drives me to be extremely organized in many facets of my daily life, the truth is that Time somehow still slips through my fingers, and I find myself at the close of each day, each week, each month, and yes, each year wishing. Wishing I'd done something different; wishing I'd spent more time (or any time) in the Word; wishing I'd written the words of my heart into a blog, or a newspaper article, or a forum; wishing I'd actually started on that book that I've wanted to write for so long... I would've felt better if I'd just written that article I've thought about writing for so long.
But I didn't.
Somehow, another 24 hours has slipped through my fingers like sand...nay, like water. You see, it's possible to grasp just a tiny portion of sand as it slips through your fingers, because of the natural abrasive nature of sand. Water seeks the path of least resistance, however, and because of its fluid nature, is impossible to clutch or hold onto.
Another week has passed, and still I have not prayed 30 minutes a day like I promised myself during Sunday night's sermon that I would start doing; I have gone another week without fasting an entire day.
(There is a difference between "fasting" and merely postponing a meal, but that is another story, for another posting.)
Another month has dribbled away, and still I have not written the title page to that book that has been burning in my heart for at least two years now. Even worse, the article I told that publisher I wanted to share...he has yet to get that simple little 500-word column from me.
The end of the year is fast closing, and I look back at 2006 and the bewildered expression that is all too familiar comes again to my face, as I wonder what happened to the year.
I'm not a pastor; not a full-time evangelist; not a full-time staff member. I don't even hold a secular job, and haven't for over two years. So what have I done all day, every day? I try to tell folks "I'm a stay-at-home dad." When prospective employers call with telephone interviews, the question rings loud in my ears, "What have you been doing in this two-year gap on your resume?" I can envision the narrowed eyes, the suspicion on their face as they wonder what a healthy 43-year old guy---with a background in computer repair, welding, banking, customer support, you name it---has been doing. Did this guy win the lottery? Is he disabled? Is he leeching off of Workman's Comp? Is he just a slacker? They don't have to say it...but I know the question is there.
The sad thing is, in my prayer closet today, I "came to myself", just as the prodigal son of Luke 15 did. I realized that, yes...I have been a "slacker".
slack
(adj.)
a. negligent; careless; remiss
b. not busy; inactive
I have been "slack" in the time I could have given myself to the things of God. I have been slack in my personal growth and development, slack in things I could have done from this chair, this computer, to add to the Kingdom; slack in a variety of ways I could have, and should have, given my time and efforts to this business of "ministry".
Yet, like so many others, I fell prey to the mindset that, unless I was full-time, full-fledged, full-blown preaching---either as a pastor, or as an evangelist---that I wasn't really in "ministry".
Is writing really a ministry? How can you define "blogging" as a ministry? How can you justify writing stuff on WordShare or Pastor's Helper as ministry? Who would read your book if you ever did write it, anyway? That can't possibly be ministry. And people---especially other pastors---look at musician/singers as "entertainers", not ministers, so who are you trying to fool with that?
These are the things I struggled with in my mind, when I thought about Time and how much I should be giving to ministry.
Please don't crucify me.
It's a mindset that affects many, if not most. We're so given to setting "marks" for ourself, measures of achievement, standards of completion, and "ministry" has become synonymous with "preaching".
I know, and you know, that many can preach without ministering, and many more can minister without ever preaching.
So today, I purposed in my heart to "return home", to go back to my Calling, to give myself back to the Master's service. My calling is not merely to preach, although that is a fractional part; more especially, my call is to minister. I should be fulfilling that call in a variety of ways, even if it does not presently involve a pulpit.
Luke 12:48 ...unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required:
Like the prodigal of Luke 15, I find that I have "wasted [my] substance". The difference is that his substance was financial gain through an early inheritance; mine has been the hours, the days, the weeks, and even the years that God has given me.
Thus far, I realize I have been the prodigal of Time.
By the Grace of our Lord Jesus, that shall cease to be.
Reviving the faint. Restoring the fallen. Refreshing the weary.
Steve Shubert
Friday, November 03, 2006
Conviction? or Guilt?
Escape The Familiar
It's not quite as easy as one would think. For one thing, "familiar" can often be synonymous with "comfortable". We are most comfortable with the things we are most familiar with. In the wonderful world of Pentecost, and more specifically the United Pentecostal Church, the religious organization of which I am a licensed minister, we tend to be most comfortable when we know the lines that are drawn. This applies to preacher and parishoner alike.
On another forum centered around that very organization, someone posed the question "Why do we preach 'convictions' that we cannot back up with scripture?" There were several responses, the most common being that "God tells us to." But does he always?
I believe what I have been feeling in my spirit---which is how I based my response to the question---is a call to Escape The Familiar surroundings of "standards" and "holiness" issues that we have lived in for so long.
This is not to say that those things are wrong, nor is it meant to convey that I have some sort of new "revelation" that others aren't getting. It is merely to say that I believe God is wanting to call His people out of the land we have been dwelling in for so long. I truly believe that God wants a people who serve Him out of genuine love, not from a rulebook, nor in the "arranged marriage" way that many of us are familiar with. (You get introduced to the Bridegroom at salvation, then the Pastor hands you a manual telling you how you're supposed to act, dress, look, walk, and talk to keep your new-found love happy.)
The question originally posed was "Why do we, as pastors, often try to enforce a conviction that is not supported biblically?"
Someone stated that they thought it might be due to peer pressure. I disagree, however.
My response is as follows:
I don't think it's as much peer pressure as it is a deep-seated need and desire for authority. We have become quite parochial in our pastoral leadership; we enjoy having followers who rely on us, and it becomes a challenge to release them from our authority.
Why don't we teach the doctrine of Grace? Because Grace involves self-control. Grace involves self-discipline. Grace teaches us to walk in the Spirit, to be pleasing to the One who has called us out of darkness into His marvelous light...instead of merely to the Pastor, the platform policy, or the District Board.
Pentecostals are afraid of the doctrine of Grace because it involves self-discipline; it involves "save yourselves from this untoward generation" and "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling". It's much easier to let Pastor save us from this untoward generation, or let the District Board work out our salvation with a hefty manual. This takes the burden of self-discipline off of our shoulders, both saint and preacher. If we align ourselves to what Bro. Pastor (or Bro. Superintendent) teaches, then we feel we're doing alright.
What the Word teaches us is to "walk in the Spirit".
(If you're still reading this, and not already angrily typing your response, just stay with me.)
If we teach our people to walk in the Spirit, to lean on God for direction and guidance, then we have to relinquish a bit (even a teeny-tiny bit) of pastoral authority. We don't get to counsel people when they're struggling with issues because we've taught them to go to God in prayer with their struggles. Hence, we don't get to be "the Answer Man", the messiah who solved all their problems.
Hey, I'm not slamming anyone. I've been a pastor, and Lord willing, will be again, someday. It's much like parenting. We teach our children to "grow up", to "take responsibility", but when they start doing so, we get nervous, we start micro-managing every little thing they do.
Why?
Because we don't think they can do it as good as we can do it for them.
It's tough to relinquish authority. It's like the politician who promises they're going to "put themselves out of a job", but how often has that actually happened? Something always comes up, some reason that they feel the need to stay around.
If we, as pastors, teach our people the way that Jesus taught His disciples, we wouldn't have nearly as big a burden of responsibility weighing on us, and we would be able to give ourselves to prayer and the Word, as the apostles did.
But that requires turning loose and trusting our "underlings" to do the right thing in their own walk with Christ.
Can we do that? Can we allow Grace to teach them, to lead them, to nurture them and cause them to mature? Or will we continue the struggle of trying to do everything ourselves because we've become convinced that "if you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself"?
Is the reason I won't let Bro. SlimJim in my pulpit based on something I've felt in my spirit, or is it simply because I've worked too hard to get the church going in the right direction to let him mess it all up with one of his rambling disasters?
What is my motivation for keeping my people where they are spiritually?
Make no mistake: I firmly believe that the "watchman on the wall" is still responsible for the safety and well-being of the people. I still believe there are some lines that have to be drawn because the man of God feels the urgency in his spirit to protect the flock. I still believe that God uses a chain-of-command, that He speaks to the undershepherd concerning the direction the church is going. But I also believe that we have been guilty of establishing some "fences" simply because we don't trust our people to care for themselves.
No greater compliment can be given to a saint than to have their pastor trust them to walk in the Spirit on their own merit, rather than expecting a bunch of clones of himself.
So the question is, Am I guilty of setting boundaries, drawing lines, erecting fences because I don't trust my people, because I don't think they can handle the "liberty of the Holy Ghost"? or have I set these boundaries because the Spirit has prompted me to?
Am I teaching my people to be Pentecostal? or to be a Christian?
It deserves an answer. And an honest one.
It's not quite as easy as one would think. For one thing, "familiar" can often be synonymous with "comfortable". We are most comfortable with the things we are most familiar with. In the wonderful world of Pentecost, and more specifically the United Pentecostal Church, the religious organization of which I am a licensed minister, we tend to be most comfortable when we know the lines that are drawn. This applies to preacher and parishoner alike.
On another forum centered around that very organization, someone posed the question "Why do we preach 'convictions' that we cannot back up with scripture?" There were several responses, the most common being that "God tells us to." But does he always?
I believe what I have been feeling in my spirit---which is how I based my response to the question---is a call to Escape The Familiar surroundings of "standards" and "holiness" issues that we have lived in for so long.
This is not to say that those things are wrong, nor is it meant to convey that I have some sort of new "revelation" that others aren't getting. It is merely to say that I believe God is wanting to call His people out of the land we have been dwelling in for so long. I truly believe that God wants a people who serve Him out of genuine love, not from a rulebook, nor in the "arranged marriage" way that many of us are familiar with. (You get introduced to the Bridegroom at salvation, then the Pastor hands you a manual telling you how you're supposed to act, dress, look, walk, and talk to keep your new-found love happy.)
The question originally posed was "Why do we, as pastors, often try to enforce a conviction that is not supported biblically?"
Someone stated that they thought it might be due to peer pressure. I disagree, however.
My response is as follows:
I don't think it's as much peer pressure as it is a deep-seated need and desire for authority. We have become quite parochial in our pastoral leadership; we enjoy having followers who rely on us, and it becomes a challenge to release them from our authority.
Why don't we teach the doctrine of Grace? Because Grace involves self-control. Grace involves self-discipline. Grace teaches us to walk in the Spirit, to be pleasing to the One who has called us out of darkness into His marvelous light...instead of merely to the Pastor, the platform policy, or the District Board.
Pentecostals are afraid of the doctrine of Grace because it involves self-discipline; it involves "save yourselves from this untoward generation" and "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling". It's much easier to let Pastor save us from this untoward generation, or let the District Board work out our salvation with a hefty manual. This takes the burden of self-discipline off of our shoulders, both saint and preacher. If we align ourselves to what Bro. Pastor (or Bro. Superintendent) teaches, then we feel we're doing alright.
What the Word teaches us is to "walk in the Spirit".
(If you're still reading this, and not already angrily typing your response, just stay with me.)
If we teach our people to walk in the Spirit, to lean on God for direction and guidance, then we have to relinquish a bit (even a teeny-tiny bit) of pastoral authority. We don't get to counsel people when they're struggling with issues because we've taught them to go to God in prayer with their struggles. Hence, we don't get to be "the Answer Man", the messiah who solved all their problems.
Hey, I'm not slamming anyone. I've been a pastor, and Lord willing, will be again, someday. It's much like parenting. We teach our children to "grow up", to "take responsibility", but when they start doing so, we get nervous, we start micro-managing every little thing they do.
Why?
Because we don't think they can do it as good as we can do it for them.
It's tough to relinquish authority. It's like the politician who promises they're going to "put themselves out of a job", but how often has that actually happened? Something always comes up, some reason that they feel the need to stay around.
If we, as pastors, teach our people the way that Jesus taught His disciples, we wouldn't have nearly as big a burden of responsibility weighing on us, and we would be able to give ourselves to prayer and the Word, as the apostles did.
But that requires turning loose and trusting our "underlings" to do the right thing in their own walk with Christ.
Can we do that? Can we allow Grace to teach them, to lead them, to nurture them and cause them to mature? Or will we continue the struggle of trying to do everything ourselves because we've become convinced that "if you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself"?
Is the reason I won't let Bro. SlimJim in my pulpit based on something I've felt in my spirit, or is it simply because I've worked too hard to get the church going in the right direction to let him mess it all up with one of his rambling disasters?
What is my motivation for keeping my people where they are spiritually?
Make no mistake: I firmly believe that the "watchman on the wall" is still responsible for the safety and well-being of the people. I still believe there are some lines that have to be drawn because the man of God feels the urgency in his spirit to protect the flock. I still believe that God uses a chain-of-command, that He speaks to the undershepherd concerning the direction the church is going. But I also believe that we have been guilty of establishing some "fences" simply because we don't trust our people to care for themselves.
No greater compliment can be given to a saint than to have their pastor trust them to walk in the Spirit on their own merit, rather than expecting a bunch of clones of himself.
So the question is, Am I guilty of setting boundaries, drawing lines, erecting fences because I don't trust my people, because I don't think they can handle the "liberty of the Holy Ghost"? or have I set these boundaries because the Spirit has prompted me to?
Am I teaching my people to be Pentecostal? or to be a Christian?
It deserves an answer. And an honest one.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Coffee With God
Author's Note: This article was originally written and published in the local newspaper in Nov. 2003 when I served as Pastor of Turning Point Church in Monett, MO. The article was later published in the Missouri Voice as well as The Pentecostal Herald.
No, it’s not a new coffeehouse, a cybercafé, nor is it a new form of “drive-thru” religion. It’s a simple thing that many people might refer to as “prayer,” yet this came to me in a most unusual way.
Over the past several weeks, I have been teaching a series of lessons to our folks here at Turning Point Church about “spiritual communication.” In today’s society, I understand this topic might raise a few eyebrows; it seems like a lot of folks are wanting to delve into “spiritual communication” nowadays, what with Harry Potter, Sabrina, etc. However, “spiritual” only denotes what sort of communication one is desirous of; the key word here is “communication.” Do some simple research on divorce patterns and you’ll find that one of the leading factors in divorce is lack of communication.
In the 1967 Paul Newman classic, Cool Hand Luke, the warden makes the famous statement: “What we got here is failure to communicate.” Sadly, this is the source of many folks’ unhappiness in their relationship with man and GOD.
Time and space won’t allow me to give even a brief run-down of what we have been studying, but allow me to share this with you: Communication—and this includes our time with GOD—is more than just a one-sided conversation. There has to be a time when we actually take time to talk with Him, instead of just to Him. Hence, the subject I’m writing about today, Coffee With GOD.
Working a secular job, I am required to awake at an ungodly hour and be at work at 4:30 A.M.. However, there is much to be said for early-morning prayer, and on this particular morning, I really wanted to spend a few moments with GOD before rushing into the day. I knew I didn’t have much time, and I desperately wanted my coffee, so I grabbed a cup, and slipped into the sanctuary of the church.
It was dark and quiet, and to be honest, I felt a bit like a small child who was invading Dad’s office . . . especially since I don’t normally agree with food or drinks being in the sanctuary. However, I stood there in the darkness, and quietly spoke: “God? Can I have my coffee with you this morning?”
It was as though He had been waiting on me; I felt His Presence, and His invitation was all too real. No, He didn’t mind me bringing my coffee into His house, and He wanted to spend a few moments with me as well. (I was careful to hold onto the coffee cup and not spill!) And there in the darkness of the early morning, I had coffee with GOD.
I hope this doesn’t sound irreverent or sacrilegious; it’s just a simple fact that I have discovered that communicating with GOD doesn’t require the bending of a knee for thirty minutes, an hour, or longer. Matter of fact, friends, true prayer can be done anytime, in any place. Prayer is communicating with GOD, and that can be as simple as “Good morning, GOD.”
Think about it: when you communicate with your spouse, children, friends, or even co-workers, you don’t expect, and certainly wouldn’t desire, fifteen minutes of pleading and begging and telling you how rotten life is. You don’t expect a Christmas list of wants every time you sit down and talk with someone. What sort of marriage could survive “communication” that only included demands or requests to have something done, yet never included words of love, adoration, praise, and even simple down-to-earth conversation?
Let me encourage you today to take some time and have coffee with GOD. If you’re not a coffee drinker, that’s fine. Enjoy some alone time with Him, however, and let Him know that you’re thinking about Him. Don’t nag Him to do something, because if you’ve asked, He’s already heard you. Just spend time talking with Him; let Him know that He is loved and appreciated, that you acknowledge Him and the things He does for you. Ask questions, and then wait for answers. Oh, I know; sometimes those answers can be hard to hear, and sometimes they may take time, but He’s listening. And He wants to communicate with you, too.
Coffee with GOD . . . It may not seem proper, polished, or poised, but it’s communication with Heaven, and that’s good for anyone.
No, it’s not a new coffeehouse, a cybercafé, nor is it a new form of “drive-thru” religion. It’s a simple thing that many people might refer to as “prayer,” yet this came to me in a most unusual way.
Over the past several weeks, I have been teaching a series of lessons to our folks here at Turning Point Church about “spiritual communication.” In today’s society, I understand this topic might raise a few eyebrows; it seems like a lot of folks are wanting to delve into “spiritual communication” nowadays, what with Harry Potter, Sabrina, etc. However, “spiritual” only denotes what sort of communication one is desirous of; the key word here is “communication.” Do some simple research on divorce patterns and you’ll find that one of the leading factors in divorce is lack of communication.
In the 1967 Paul Newman classic, Cool Hand Luke, the warden makes the famous statement: “What we got here is failure to communicate.” Sadly, this is the source of many folks’ unhappiness in their relationship with man and GOD.
Time and space won’t allow me to give even a brief run-down of what we have been studying, but allow me to share this with you: Communication—and this includes our time with GOD—is more than just a one-sided conversation. There has to be a time when we actually take time to talk with Him, instead of just to Him. Hence, the subject I’m writing about today, Coffee With GOD.
Working a secular job, I am required to awake at an ungodly hour and be at work at 4:30 A.M.. However, there is much to be said for early-morning prayer, and on this particular morning, I really wanted to spend a few moments with GOD before rushing into the day. I knew I didn’t have much time, and I desperately wanted my coffee, so I grabbed a cup, and slipped into the sanctuary of the church.
It was dark and quiet, and to be honest, I felt a bit like a small child who was invading Dad’s office . . . especially since I don’t normally agree with food or drinks being in the sanctuary. However, I stood there in the darkness, and quietly spoke: “God? Can I have my coffee with you this morning?”
It was as though He had been waiting on me; I felt His Presence, and His invitation was all too real. No, He didn’t mind me bringing my coffee into His house, and He wanted to spend a few moments with me as well. (I was careful to hold onto the coffee cup and not spill!) And there in the darkness of the early morning, I had coffee with GOD.
I hope this doesn’t sound irreverent or sacrilegious; it’s just a simple fact that I have discovered that communicating with GOD doesn’t require the bending of a knee for thirty minutes, an hour, or longer. Matter of fact, friends, true prayer can be done anytime, in any place. Prayer is communicating with GOD, and that can be as simple as “Good morning, GOD.”
Think about it: when you communicate with your spouse, children, friends, or even co-workers, you don’t expect, and certainly wouldn’t desire, fifteen minutes of pleading and begging and telling you how rotten life is. You don’t expect a Christmas list of wants every time you sit down and talk with someone. What sort of marriage could survive “communication” that only included demands or requests to have something done, yet never included words of love, adoration, praise, and even simple down-to-earth conversation?
Let me encourage you today to take some time and have coffee with GOD. If you’re not a coffee drinker, that’s fine. Enjoy some alone time with Him, however, and let Him know that you’re thinking about Him. Don’t nag Him to do something, because if you’ve asked, He’s already heard you. Just spend time talking with Him; let Him know that He is loved and appreciated, that you acknowledge Him and the things He does for you. Ask questions, and then wait for answers. Oh, I know; sometimes those answers can be hard to hear, and sometimes they may take time, but He’s listening. And He wants to communicate with you, too.
Coffee with GOD . . . It may not seem proper, polished, or poised, but it’s communication with Heaven, and that’s good for anyone.
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