One of the things I love about the Bible is that it’s not about sugar-coating anything. Christians sometimes (often) sugarcoat, but the Bible doesn’t. I was reminded of that while reading Psalm 88. It starts out, as many Psalms do, with a plea to God for help in trouble.

O Lord, God of my salvation,
   I cry out day and night before you.
Let my prayer come before you;
   incline your ear to my cry!
For my soul is full of troubles,
   and my life draws near to Sheol.
                                   Psalm 88:1-3 (ESV)

Now that’s not unusual. Many Psalms begin with such cries and end with praise to God.  The one that immediately comes to mind for me is Psalm 22, which begins in despair and ends with praise. Others include Psalm 3, 4, 6, 10, 13 . . . . I could keep going, but you’ve got the idea. However, Psalm 88 is a bit different. Here is how it ends.

But I, O Lord, cry to you;
   in the morning my prayer comes before you.
O Lord, why do you cast my soul away?
   Why do you hide your face from me?
Afflicted and close to death from my youth up,
   I suffer your terrors; I am helpless.
Your wrath has swept over me;
   your dreadful assaults destroy me.
They surround me like a flood all day long;
   they close in on me together.
You have caused my beloved and my friend to shun me;
   my companions have become darkness.
                                      Psalm 88:13-18 (ESV)

The psalmist is still in the dark, both in the sense of circumstances and in his understanding.

I see this as one of those places where the Bible gets very real and gritty. It’s a reminder that God does not promise a trouble free life to his people. He promises a joy filled life, a fulfilling life, but really also a trouble filled life. While he solves problems for us, he solves the ones he sees as beneficial to solve, and he solves them on his time. And, of course, his concept of beneficial is not always the same as ours. He left Paul with his thorn in the flesh for a long time.

This psalm is also a reminder that we must be faithful in crying out to God. The psalmist is in or at least near despair, but he cries out each morning. I find that very convicting. I have a few of those long-term prayer requests that God has yet to answer, requests that I’ve been praying over for 3-5 years. I think of these as the deepest cries of my heart, and they matter immensely to me. But after praying for a few years, I find myself occasionally missing a day of praying about them.

I also note that the psalmist is crying out to “God of my salvation.” Even in the dark, God is the source of salvation. He is, in fact, our only salvation. And we as Christ-followers have one huge advantage over the psalmist. We live in a time when we can know for sure that the darkness will end.

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.  2 Corinthians 4:16-18

Are you in the dark right now? Will you commit with me to pray daily in that darkness and to trust in the coming light?

 

Photo by Nathan Anderson on Unsplash

I’ve been thinking today about worship for a couple of reasons. One spur came from responses to a Facebook post where I shared a call for people to volunteer for the production team at my church (the people who do lights, sound, video, the words on the screen, etc.). One reaction questioned the validity of production being juxtaposed with worship, but another suggested that doing the production work was itself a form of worship. Since I serve on the production team at present, that got me thinking about my worship and what my service means in terms of worship.

The second spark of thinking about worship came from my reading in Psalm 86 this morning. In the NIV I was reading, verse 11 reads, “Teach me your way, Lord, that I may rely on your faithfulness; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name.” In ESV, the same verse is “Teach me your way, O Lord, that I may walk in your truth; unite my heart to fear your name.”

So what do I think about worship? Like most people, I suspect, my immediate image of worship is singing my heart out to or for God. That is certainly the way I want to worship, since losing myself in a worship song, singing with abandon, is one of my absolute favorite things to do in this world. I think that’s why standing in front of the congregation and singing on a worship team is my favorite way to serve at a church. I get to do one of my absolute favorite things and call it service. However, when I think about offering a “sacrifice of praise” (Hebrews 13:15), I have to admit that there is not much sacrifice involved there for me. Maybe the time to prepare and learn a harmony part, maybe getting up a little early on Sunday and giving up more of my weekend than I would otherwise, but nothing in the moment.

Then I wonder, do I always really worship when I’m singing worship songs. And the answers is clearly a no. I probably am focused on God more often than not, but I certainly wander from the point at times. I start noticing that the words on the screen are coming too slow. I wonder what the person in front of me thinks of my singing. I start focusing on trying to pick up a particular harmony part in a less familiar song. If on stage playing keyboard or singing, I may get distracted by a wrong note and start to be self-conscious. All of these things divide my heart and keep me from fearing God, which is what worship is really supposed to be all about.

What about the suggestion that service on the production team really is a form of worship? I personally do CG, which means I run the videos, show any pictures, and control the words on the screens. This means that during the songs I am most definitely not losing myself in the music or singing with abandon. My job is to hit that spacebar at  the right time, precluding any loss of self, and the person I share a little room with would have just cause for anger if I sang with any volume. Thus it isn’t worship in the same sense.

But worship is about acknowledging God, fearing God, and serving God. Any sacrifice made for God is worship. That’s why giving is a part of worship. So perhaps sitting in the little back room making sure that people see what they are supposed to see is greater worship than any of my music making because it serves God, facilitating others’ worship and knowledge (during the sermons), and it involves a greater sacrifice than my singing ever does. I probably even have a less divided heart, because the decision to be there and do my best at the task is made long before.

present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Romans 12:1b 

How do you worship? What is your sacrifice? What divides your heart that God needs to unite so that you can fear him?

Photo by Bill Hamway on Unsplash

This past weekend saw my church’s first services in our new building. All five services, because the larger new auditorium isn’t actually enough larger to let us cut a service. Of course, the leadership thought it would be when we started building it. We knew that we’d be looking at multiple services, but we thought we’d be reducing the number. Instead the only change was shifting the two Saturday services to what we hope will be more attractive times so that we can move more people from Sunday to Saturday. After all, since we bought the land, average weekend attendance has grown by at least 50%, and it’s something like 5 times what it was just 5 years ago.

Reflecting on our growth and on the sermon from the weekend, which had to do with who God uses and being willing to answer the call, led me to thinking about why us. There are a lot churches in our area, so why are we the ones growing quite so dramatically and bringing the unchurched. I think there are a lot of reasons, and I know that trying to copy the how from one ministry to the next can be unproductive and even just unwise, but I do think there are a few things to be taken from what is working at Vale that could be applied in other churches and in our individual lives.

Of course, a key for any church is who the pastor is and what he does. I believe that’s certainly true for us. Our pastor is someone with a past that he has repented of and is not proud of, but one that he is open about. He tells his story without concern for sensibilities, but with great concern for sharing the love and power of Christ. He is also open about his current flaws and struggles and what God is doing in his life. Thus, he becomes a great picture of a real human being walking more and more closely with God, a picture that can only attract those seeking truth.

Our pastor also grounds all that he says deeply in scripture, and preaches expository sermons in an accessible way. I think many churches (and individual Christians) miss the mark on one of those two things. Sometimes we are so concerned about being attractive and accessible that we bury the message in so much fluff that the message itself gets lost or watered down even to falsehood. I think churches that do this find themselves pulling people in the front door, but eventually leaving through the back, their thirst for truth and God ultimately unsatisfied. And people too often find themselves lost because they begin to mistake the packaging for the message.

Of course, some churches and people go too far the other way. They may speak the truth, but they don’t worry at all about whether others can understand it. They lose track of the love God has for sinners and the importance of living a life that draws others to him. I once was talking to an elderly acquaintance about her church’s services, and I asked about a new person who might not know what to do and might be put off by that, and her response was that the person should go somewhere else. It broke my heart.

There are other elements that help Vale be what it is. Our music is contemporary but not overly edgy and not so loud as to be painful for this 50-something. Our church welcomes and uses its older members, encouraging us to be as much a part of the church as the 30-somethings that our music is more designed for. We have great children’s programming, and the new building has significantly improved our children’s facilities.

All things considered, though, I believe the key to Vale’s success, and to any church or Christian’s success in reaching others for Christ is really quite simple: share the truth of Christ, both personal and biblical, authentically and understandably. That may not be blessed with huge numbers, but it will blessed.

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Matthew 28:19-20 (ESV)

 

Photo thanks to Amy Max

This is a time of year when I struggle a bit at work because it feels like my job turns in to nothing but people, especially groups of people. Now, I do understand that as an academic department chair my role is all about students, faculty, and alumni, but most of the time I spend only a part of my day with them. For me, that’s a good thing, since I am very much an introvert. I can enjoy people in small doses, and I do a fairly good job of dealing with people as required, but I desperately need alone time to rest and recharge. And at this time of the year, I find that alone time is hard to come by, as my days get filled with more conversations than usual as well as advisory board meetings, alumni events, leadership events, and other meetings with groups of people. And my evenings and weekends get invaded as well. I love commencement, but I spend the rest of the weekend trying to hide under a rock.

Of course, this is a season in my job. After commencement is over this weekend, I will have a few quiet months with very few students in my office, very few faculty in the halls, and very few meetings involving groups of people. The introvert will fully recover. However, one day as I was thinking of all of the things I wasn’t getting done during this busy people-filled season, I realized that one of the things going by the wayside a bit was my quiet time.

By quiet time, I mean two parts of my day. One is the time I spend on Bible reading and specific intercessory prayer. That has suffered some, but I’m fairly good at telling myself that I have to do my Bible reading and praying whether I feel like it or not. What suffers more is the time that spend alone with God with no specific agenda. The time to be still and know God. That time I tend to lose in the busy-ness and the crowds. I find myself forgetting to rest in God and trying to rest in books or computer games, which kind of works, but not nearly as well.

When I’m in one of these times, I find myself needing to go back to Christ’s example. We see Jesus slipping away from the crowds to be alone and pray (Matt. 14:13,23,  Mark 1:35 and Luke 9:18 are examples). I don’t know whether or not Jesus was an introvert  (I rather expect not), but I do know that as the Son of God he could handle things while here on earth that I cannot. So if he needed to get away from the crowds and spend time with God, why on earth am I trying to survive my crowds without doing the same?

The good news is that when I do take the time to step away and spend that time resting in communion with God, I cope with my crowds a lot better.

Photo by Josh Adamski on Unsplash

My husband and I like to read. A lot. He reads quite a bit faster than I do, so I often question him about whatever book he is currently reading in order to determine whether I want to read it later. However, I have learned that the answers I get to “Are you enjoying that book?” are very consistent. Occasionally I will get a “Not really,” but most of the time the answer is simply, “So far.” He will never, ever commit to liking a book while he is still reading it. After all, he doesn’t know the end of the story yet.

And the end of the story is really important, isn’t it? What if Gollum didn’t fall into the fire in the Return of the King? For that matter, the movie version of the Lord of the Rings is thematically very different from the books because it leave out the end, “The Scouring of the Shire.” What if Darcy and Elizabeth never got married? What if Poirot (or Gibbs and the rest of the NCIS gang) didn’t solve the mystery?

I started to think about the importance of the end of the story Sunday evening. My husband and I had never seen Jesus Christ Superstar and decided to watch a recording of the recent version. We knew some of the music and knew, of course, that the theology was problematic but decided it would be interesting, especially since there were some excellent singers in the cast.

As we were watching, I liked it better than I expected to. Obviously, the writer didn’t “get” who Jesus is or anything about his motivations, but much of the story was surprisingly accurate. And the whipping scene, while hard to watch in some ways, was very effective. But then we got to the end. Instead of the biblical events of darkness in the afternoon, the temple curtain ripped from top to bottom, a spear stabbed into the side, and a hastily wrapped body laid in a borrowed tomb, we had a bright light backlighting a cross with Jesus hanging on it floating off into the air and away from the audience. Cool effect, but what a horrible ending!

It reminded me of a church back in Pflugerville that always had their Easter drama on Friday and ended at the cross. When asked, they would explain that you had to come back on Sunday for the rest of the story.

It doesn’t end at the cross. Sunday was coming. And if you leave out Sunday with the empty tomb and the risen savior, you can’t possibly understand who Jesus is or why he did what he did, because the death was necessary, but it was meaningless without the resurrection.

Of course, one mistake that Christians sometimes make is to think that the empty tomb is end of the story. We forget that there’s a huge section of New Testament that is all about living in response to the cross and the empty tomb.

Then he is coming back for us. And our story doesn’t actually have an end once we accept him, because his story never ends.

One thing that sometimes makes me cringe is hearing others talk about the things they are “going to do for God.” Sometimes that phrase is just misspeaking a bit, but sometimes it is exactly what is meant. But God never actually called us to do things “for” him.

I see two sources of danger in doing things for God. The first is very simply that we humans are prone to get it wrong. A huge example of that is the Crusades, but we do the same in small ways on a regular basis. Oswald Chambers described it this way: “We show our ignorance of Him in the very way we decide to serve Him. We serve Jesus in a spirit that is not His, and hurt Him by our defense of Him” (My Utmost for His Highest). Every time we defend the Gospel in a hateful spirit, every time we denounce the sinner instead of the sin, every time we water down the gospel message in order to get people in the doors of the church, we act “for” God in a way that is not helpful and is often harmful to the cause of Christ.

Not all actions taken for Christ are actually in opposition to him, of course. The person who doesn’t particularly like young children but takes on the 4-year-old Sunday School class because somebody has to do it and genuinely does the best she can may be doing more good than harm, at least on the surface. But if that decision was a response to a human plea acted on in her own strength rather than an acceptance of spiritual heart tug acted on in full reliance on God to provide the patience, strength, and cheerfulness required, it was still the wrong decision.

1. If she wasn’t the person called to this task, she is keeping the person who was called from taking it on.
2. If this is not the task she was called for, she is either leaving the task she is called to undone or doing more than she can handle.
3. If she is acting for God in her own strength, she will eventually burn out.

God calls us to his side to walk with him. “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them” Ephesians 2:10 (ESV). Yes, we are to do good works, but we walk in the works that God already prepared for us, and we do it in his strength.

I think we tend to believe that God needs us, whether to defend him against unbelievers or to do the things he needs done. He doesn’t need us. He loves us. He wants us. He gives us valuable work to do with him. But he never, ever needs for a human to do something for him. That is why “the sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination to the Lord,
but the prayer of the upright is acceptable to him,” Proverbs 15:8 (ESV). The purpose of the sacrifice was always for the good of the one making it; God never needed it.

So next time you want to do something for God, whether big or small, take a step back and make sure than you aren’t doing it for God, but that you are instead walking with him.

So it snowed this past weekend. We were away from home, visiting Indianapolis to see our niece’s volleyball tournament, but we got plenty of snow there in addition to what we found filling our driveway when we got home. The amazing thing to me is that we still have remnants of snow despite highs well above freezing every day since.

Once you push a bunch of snow into a pile, it becomes pretty hard to melt. A few years ago, we had an unusually snowy winter, and all of the snow from our local insurance giant’s corporate parking lots got piled onto one empty lot. For a while, I wondered if that pile was going to make it to July.

It is easy enough to explain why snow melts more slowly when a lot of it is clumped together, but I think that seeing such phenomena should make us think about the piles and clumps in our lives that become harder to get rid of.

When someone does us wrong, we have a choice: forgive now or hang on and pile up every little thing that person does to us until we collapse under the weight. It isn’t easy to forgive that one wrong, but every grievance we add to the pile make it harder to let go of all of the others.

When we stray down a wrong path, saying or doing something we know we should not, it’s not easy to repent and correct our course. But how much harder does it become if we repeat that wrong, even let it form a habit?

Of course, piling on isn’t always bad. Read a Bible verse once, and it won’t be easy for that verse to influence your life. Spend time in the Bible every day, reading verses that God points out over and over until they are deep in your mind and heart. and Satan will be hard-pressed to melt that influence out of your life no matter what fires he brings to bear.

What are the piles that you need to avoid building? What are the thin layers that need to have a few shovelfuls added to prevent melting?

Billy Graham died today.

Learning that on my way to work this morning didn’t make me sad. He lived a long life on earth, and I’m confident that he is rejoicing with Christ today. However, it did lead me to think a bit about evangelism and about cultural icons.

Billy Graham wasn’t perfect. He made mistakes. He acknowledged that he made mistakes. He was still mightily used by God to bring a message of revival and repentance to a nation full of what one book I am reading calls “secular Christians” and later to the world.

I tend to think of Billy Graham as an evangelist, but I believe it’s important to remember that he was more than that. His call was not only to repentance, but also to discipleship. One quote from his devotions is: “Being a Christian is more than just an instantaneous conversion. It is a daily process whereby you grow to be more and more like Christ.” He preached on such issues, not just about our need for Christ.

He also preached on subjects like racism, pointing out that the Bible has no basis for segregation, but that all are in equal need of the cross and have equal welcome there. He pointed out many of the inconsistencies of Christians when we get hung up on sins such as homosexuality and make them somehow more important than other sins such as pride and jealousy.

And yet, the man was a man, with the imperfections we all possess. So what should we learn from looking back at the life of one of the visible men of God in the past century?

I am reminded that to be “after God’s own heart” is not a description of perfection but rather of love and commitment. I believe that Billy Graham was a man after God’s own heart. But I read Psalm 51 this morning, which is a strong reminder that repentance, love of God, and commitment are the keys to that moniker, not a perfection which none of us can achieve on earth.

I’m also reminded that the key to a Christian life is that daily commitment to Christ and a focus on God. God–not a pastor, a teacher, a friend, a mentor, but God–must be the center and focus of my life. Anyone else will fall short as a role model. Jesus is the only perfect example, and other Christians are valuable role models only as they point me toward him.

But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Matthew 6:33 (ESV)

Photo by Hugues de BUYER-MIMEURE on Unsplash

The snow is melting! The temperature in Central Illinois is in the mid-forties today, and there is much rejoicing. I was in a conversation this afternoon in which someone commented on how different 40 degrees is in February as compared to October. In October, we dread such a low a temperature and dress for winter. In February, we leave our gloves off and our coats unbuttoned and talk about how delightfully warm it is. The reason for such different reactions is not hard to find: it’s all a matter of what we’re used to.

Humans have a tendency to adjust to our environments. And that’s a good thing, at least in some respects. If we didn’t adjust to the prevailing temperatures to a certain extent, humans would not fare well in many of the places where we live happily. I’m not sure I’ll ever be happy about temps in the 20s and below, but I’m glad that I adjust enough to be comfortable with temps in the 30s.

However, we often adjust to our environment in ways that are less positive. One of my flaws as a housekeeper is that I have learned to adjust to any surroundings. I can put on my mother’s eyes and see the mess and be horrified, but I’m normally adjusted to living with a level of clutter that I probably shouldn’t tolerate.

I have also found that I have adjusted to the language around me in a way that I often wish I hadn’t. In my childhood, adolescence, and really on in to my twenties, I was rarely exposed to “bad” language (cursing, taking the Lord’s name in vain, really any kind of vulgarity). As a result, I tended to be very sensitive to hearing language of that sort, often physically flinching when I heard it. It certainly never entered my mind. As an adult working on a public university campus in the 21st century, that is no longer my environment. It’s a rare day when I am not exposed to language that would once have bothered me greatly (despite having a position where people usually try to avoid using offensive language to me). As a result, I don’t react nearly as strongly to the utterances, and I do find them occasionally entering my thoughts, even though I still don’t allow them to cross my lips.

The Bible speaks to this. Proverbs has a great deal to say about who you spend your time with, encouraging us to avoid fools, those who are bitter, and those who would tempt us sexually, among other. Paul takes a more positive approach in his letter to the Philippians: “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things” Philippians 4:8 (ESV).

What are you adjusted to? In my job, I can’t keep those around me from using language I don’t like, but I can surround myself with friends who focus on better things. I can listen to music and read books that lift me up rather than tearing me down. What can you do?

Almost 20 years ago now, I was at the park with my two sons. They were 1 and a half and 3 and a half. We had just moved to Pflugerville, and we know no one. My husband was up in Waco at his office (about 90 miles away) and planning to spend the night up there. This is back in the day when cell phones weighed 9 pounds and were carried around in bags, so I certainly didn’t have one yet. I’d gotten through my first day of classes for my doctorate, picked up the kids from daycare, fed them, and decided that it would be nice for all of us to relax at the park that was just a very short walk away.

The kids were happily playing on the little playground, and I sat down on a bench to read and watch them.  Another somewhat older boy joined them on the playground and eventually stood up on the firetruck and started throwing rocks at the trees behind me. At this point, I started looking around for his parents, but couldn’t see them. Then one of the rocks fell short and hit the top of my head.

I knew it had hit me pretty hard because i was feeling a touch woozy, and I touched my right cheek and determined that the reason it felt wet was that I had blood running down the side of my face. So here I was, knowing my brain wasn’t working right, knowing I was bleeding a fair bit, with two little kids.

There was a soccer practice going on at the park, so I walked over to the sideline where the parents were hanging out and asked if any of them would willing to help me get my children home and contact my husband.

Picture that. You’re watching your daughter’s soccer practice and this woman walks up to the group of parents. She’s got blood running down the side of her face. And she asks you to walk her and her kids to their house.

One of those women did. She helped me get the boys back to the house. She helped me call my husband. She insisted on calling 911 and stayed until they got there. She stayed long enough that she was probably late collecting her daughter from practice. It turns out that I did have a (relatively mild) concussion.

I’ve always been grateful to that woman, and I’ve never known who she was. I was sufficiently dazed that I failed to recognize if I ever met her again, and no one has ever told me that she was the person who came to my rescue that night.

Whenever I look back and remember that night (and a couple of other incidents in my life), I always have to wonder. What would I have done had I been on that sideline? I do know what my answer should be. But is that always my response to the opportunities to help others that God brings my way?

Photo by Nina Strehl on Unsplash