1 came back

You never know about transients. With our church building on a major thoroughfare I meet one every other week, even during these brutal Wyoming winter months. Some are obstinate and only want cash, others refuse the benevolence funds managed by the police department. Still others gladly make the trip to the sherif's office only to be arrested for the illegal substances carried on their person (true story). They all have their sob story which usually involves a combination of victimization and unfortunate circumstances, of which they are totally innocent. None of them seem to have a credit card. Almost all of them cause me serious reservation when it comes time to tap into our already strained resources.

Michael was different. "I'm heading East, hoping to start over," was his simple explanation for hitchhiking to KC. No complaints, no stories of misfortune or betrayal. Another church provided a motel room and all he needed now was a meal. I made a call and was able to take care of the immediate need. We talked briefly about Christ. His answers may have been a bit rehearsed, but that is between him and God. I wished him well and didn't think of him again.

This morning I was on the phone and looked up to see him standing there. I fully expected a plea for more food, or bus fare (you may be picking up on the cynicism we pastors battle over these kinds of things). I secretly wanted to stay on the phone and not deal with this, but my call only reached voicemail. I left a message and greeted my guest with contrived compassion. He reached out to shake my hand and said, "Thanks again for the meal. I'm heading South, hoping to avoid some of the colder weather before I start moving East." Bewildered by his gratitude I asked if he needed anything. He said, "God has gotten me this far. I'm still trusting Him. God bless." With that he turned and left me with my thoughts.

I think of the 10 lepers Jesus healed in Luke 17 and how only 1 came back to thank Him. Jesus praises this man's faith. I think of Michael and wonder if his gratitude reveals far more about the condition of his soul than the answers he gave to my questions. I think of the resources we risk on those who say they are in need with no guarantee that they are not criminals or cons. I think if 1 out of 10 is truly grateful it is worth funding the bad habits of the 9. I think of my tendency to grumble (at least inwardly) about what I have and don't have and that uttering a simple "thank you" can radically change all perception.

I am thankful that God brought Michael across the threshold of Grace Fellowship last night, to remind us to give and give cheerfully, and to remind us to be grateful for every good gift that comes down from the Father of lights. I am thankful that Michael's "thank you" gave more to me than I gave to him.

Nuggets, Nativity, and a Hebrew Word

People sometimes refer to poignant statements in Scripture as "nuggets." (The first image that comes to mind is a tub of chicken nuggets, although I am quite confident that the intended reference is gold nuggets.) Reason being, studying Scripture can be like mining for gold - you sometimes have to do a lot of hard work before you stumble onto the things of substance that drew you there in the first place. This sometimes frustrating reality is by Divine design, though I won't get into the reasons why right now. Rather, I want to polish a chicken, er, I mean gold nugget for Christmas.

Micah 6:8 is such a nugget. It is a summary passage, recapping basically the entire corpus of Old Testament theology. In the verses immediately prior a straw-man is built, who argues that he would do anything up to and including sacrificing his own son, if only God would be happy with him. He is begging God to reveal what He expects of humanity because, "I just don't know what God wants from me!" Through the prophet Micah we are reminded of the stunning simplicity of God's already revealed will. "He has already told you, oh man, but you weren't paying attention - do justice, love mercy, walk humbly" (my paraphrase).

Notice, it is all written in the singular - He has shown YOU. YOU do justice. Don't petition Washington for social programs or legislated morality and think you've done your Christian duty. YOU do justice. Care for the poor and sick. Lead with exemplary ethics and morals. Sacrifice, give, teach - from the overflow of your American abundance, YOU do justice.

YOU love mercy. From the Hebrew hesed (No, no, you've got to say the "h" while clearing your throat. Try that again.), which means, as my Hebrew prof taught us, "covenant faithfulness." The meaning of the word goes back to the Abrahamic covenant where God established His unconditional covenant with His fickle people (Genesis 15). We will fail, God will not. Loving this kind of mercy requires more than just resting securely in it. It demands that we act towards others in the same way. YOU love mercy means, treat people with the love of Christ regardless of their response to it or to you.

YOU walk humbly. This is really a prerequisite to the previous two. There is no way we can muster up the courage to do justice, or dig deep enough to love fellow sinners with hesed if we do not continually yield our stubborn will before God's immense wisdom and love.

This is not easy or light, but what a nugget it is! As we approach Christmas we are reminded of the incomprehensible sacrifice of Jesus Christ that far surpasses our concept of justice. God so loved an unlovely world that He was faithful to His promise and actually gave what Micah's straw-man arrogantly accused God of requiring of him. As we gaze on our beautiful nativities we must grapple with the depth of meaning in His lavish display of hesed both in the manger and ultimately on the cross. Let us be reminded throughout this season why walking humbly before our God is such a reasonable thing of Him to ask of us.

He has shown us, oh men and women, what He requires of us, and not just requires, but first gave to us. Let us make this Holiday season an offering of worship in justice, mercy, and humility.

Sin Clog (you know you want to read this one!)

"God never reveals our hearts to discourage us. Convicting us of sin is one of the most profound ways he demonstrates his love for us" (Paul Tripp).

I worked my way through college on the campus maintenance crew. Periodically I would be called to one of the ladies' dorms for a slow shower drain. Inevitably a crowd would gather as I ran an elongated coat hanger down the drain. The girls would gather in closely as I turned the hanger around and around and slowly began to pull it to the surface... I'm not sure what they were anticipating, but by the time the wad of slimy hair, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a cat-sized rat, was resting on their shower floor, there was not a girl in sight. Above the clammer of slamming doors echoing down the hall I would shout "Hey, it's YOUR hair!" Maybe this is why I had to go off campus to find a bride, but that is neither here nor there.

In similar fashion, the Word of God reveals our hearts to us. The contents of hate, lust, and all kinds of evil (Matt 15:19) shouldn't surprise us, but all too often our deceitful heart (Jer 17:9) tells us that our problems must either have originated els-ware, or they aren't so bad after all. Then, rather than standing and dealing with what is revealed we run away screaming like a college girl. Rather than being grateful for the messenger who applied the tool of God's Word to our life we look on him/her with disdain, forgetting that the "clog" came from our own heart.

God, in His rich grace gives us His heart revealing Word. He gives us men and women who love us enough to hold the mirror of God's Word (Jam 1:22-25) in front of our eyes. Every one of us has a nasty hair-ball of sin in there causing a backup of problems in some shape or form. What we choose to do about it is up to us, but I pray we will all remember the kind words of Paul Tripp. "God never reveals our hearts to discourage us. Convicting us of sin is one of the most profound ways he demonstrates his love for us."

When God comes as a maintenance worker will His love for you cause you to stand and face the truth, or will your love for yourself cause you to run away and slam the door?

Bikes, Cookies, and Ecclesiastes

It was one of those days with totally messed up timing. All I wanted to do was go for a run. The morning limped by, then the afternoon – interruption upon interruption, with no opportunity to get away. Finally, when my 7 year old got home from school, I could escape, and, to my delight, he wanted to ride his bike while I ran. As we left the house together I thought of how thankful I should be that the day went as it did. Now, I could have my run and spend some one-on-one time with my oldest son. But then, with the front yard still in view, his bike chain popped off. This wouldn’t normally be a deal breaker, except that this chain has been popping off with increasing frequency. It was time to tinker with the bike, or I’d be stopping every 20 yards to put the chain back on. I had to give up on the day’s run once and for all. What did I do then? Well, what do you do when your exercise gets interrupted? I ate a cookie.

You have your own versions of this story, each ranging between funny and heart breaking. These experiences are the materials used in Solomon’s construction of the book of Ecclesiastes. He begins with those words made famous by the old KJV, “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” We find other offerings in various translations like, empty, futile, or meaningless, to name a few. My Hebrew Professor told us the best translation is the phrase, “frustratingly enigmatic,” which is kind of funny to me because trying to understand what that means is frustratingly enigmatic. In reality though, whichever rendering you prefer we’ve all experienced it and know exactly what Solomon is talking about.

Solomon’s conclusion to this journal of frustrating enigmas is not, “go fix everything that’s broken.” Rather, he sums up his learning in a few phrases like, “enjoy the fruit of your labor,” “enjoy life with your family,” and most importantly, “fear God and keep his commandments.” Vanity will come. The only question is, will we learn from Solomon’s vast experience with it? The next time the bike chain pops off your plans my prayer is that you take it as an opportunity to evaluate your relationship with God in light of His commandments, reflect on the blessings provided in your loved ones… and then of course, eat a cookie.

Glory

So many powerful words are lost in the obscurity of the familiar. Worship, glory, fundamental, awesome, church… we could each add to the list with words we know we use poorly, but have them so engrained in our churchy vocabulary we just keep saying them without reflecting on their fundamental meaning. Oops, there I go already…

Glory. We want to glorify God, we sing of His glory, praise Him for His glory, but what is His glory? The word itself has a shockingly ordinary origin, being used to describe all manner of things, both good and bad. Here are some examples of the bad:

-Gen 12:10 – severe famine

-Ex 8:20 – great swarms of flies (glorious flies?)

-1 Sam 4:18 – Eli was old and heavy

-Psalm 38:4 – Sin is a heavy burden

The Old Testament usage applies the word to contexts of great significance, or heaviness, both figurative and literal. In summary, a glorious something is something of great substance.

In a volatile world such as ours where everything is in a state of flux from governments, to terrain, to that which quantifies beauty and humor, our souls scream for something constant. Something of lasting substance. Something of glory.

In this universe there is only one such thing. God. The glory of God will never change, never fade, never hide. We can see it in nature, experience it in the attributes that reveal His image within us, and if we do it right, share it in the Church (Ephesians 3:20-21).

So, how do we glorify God? By living in such a way that our lives reveal the one thing of true glory that exists. To love as Christ loved. To live as Christ lived. To die to self and selfish gain and point others to our source of life and happiness. This concept is nothing new. It is as old as, say, the glory of God itself.

Cowboy Coffee?

The aroma was inviting, the music was the weird, the lighting was pleasantly dim while not so much as to inhibit my reading. Sipping my steaming, grande Americano in the thought-provoking ambience provided by Starbucks, I almost forgot what world existed outside the door. Everything was as you would expect in every Starbucks from Boston to Seattle, but suddenly, something didn’t fit. There was a noise totally out of place, pulling me from my leisurely read back into my new reality. I turned and saw a typical college girl whose likeness you would expect to see a dozen times during any visit to any Starbucks anywhere in the world. But the guy she was with told another story. From his Stetson, to the western cut shirt, pie-plate sized belt buckle, all the way to the culprit of the noise – spurs strapped to his manure caked boots, this guy meshed with the Starbucks scene like Joel Osteen at an old time tent revival. But here, somehow it works. Spurs in Starbucks. Only in Wyoming. Oh, and the best part? He ordered a skinny latte with room for sugar. Wimp.

Pastor's Job Description

This is one of many possible job descriptions of the pastor:

My job is to visit with you on Tuesday, fully enjoying your beautiful home, recreative hobbies, and impressive accomplishments, celebrating God's blessings in His gracious gift of these things, then stand before you on Sunday, Bible in hand, and convince you that the love of these things will destroy your soul.