“Today we are going to draw a picture,” Timmy’s kindergarten teacher announced.

Good, Timmy thought. He liked to draw pictures. He could draw lions and tigers and trains and boats. He took out his crayons and began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait, it’s not time to begin.” She paused until everyone looked ready. “Now,” she said, “we are going to draw flowers.”

Good, Timmy thought. He began to draw beautiful flowers with his orange and pink and blue crayons.

But the teacher said, “Wait.” She drew a picture of a flower on the blackboard. It was red with a green stem. “There,” she said, “now you may begin.”

Timmy looked at his teacher’s flower. He liked his better, but he didn’t say anything. He just turned his paper over and made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red with a green stem.

A few days later the teacher said, “Today we are going to make something with clay.”

Good, Timmy thought. He could make all kinds of things with clay—snakes and snowmen and elephants and mice. He began to pinch and pull his ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait, I’ll show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make a dish.

So Timmy rolled his clay into a ball, flattened it, and made a dish like the teacher’s.

Timmy learned to wait and watch and make things just like the teacher’s. And pretty soon he stopped making creations of his own.


Then one day Timmy’s family moved to another city, and Timmy started at a new school. On his first day, Timmy’s new teacher said, “Today we are going to draw a picture.”

Good, Timmy thought. And he waited for the teacher to tell him what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room. When she came to Timmy, she said, “Don’t you want to draw a picture?”

“Yes,” said Timmy. “What are we going to draw?”

“Well, I don’t know until you draw it,” the teacher said.

“How should I make it?” he asked.

“Why, any way you like.”

“And any color?”

“Any color,” the teacher said. “If everyone drew the same thing in the same color, how would I know who made what?”

“I don’t know,” said Timmy. And he began to draw a flower. It was red with a green stem.

When Timmy was very young, he was robbed of his creativity. His teacher told him that there was only one way to draw a flower or shape a lump of clay.

You may be more like Timmy than you realize. You have the potential to draw outside the lines, to be creative, to use your talents and gifts in a remarkable and unique way, but the world has told you that you can’t do it.

The world we live in conditions us at an early age to believe that we all have to look the same, act the same, and think the same. The world tells us that we must walk in lock-step with them, through the seasons, through whatever it is. And we often blindly follow along. So, when we(I mean society, not the church) ring in the new year, we have to be at a party, dancing, drinking and waiting for that magical moment when one year rolls into the next. Next comes the month of love, and you are supposed to give out cards and candies with printing on them and be especially sweet to your special love. Then later on, when it’s time to party at Carnival, society says, go ahead, be vulgar and crude. It doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you do it in the name of fun. And if you’re a bit inebriated and do some really wild things…well, that’s just part of it. After all, this is your last chance before Lent and you have to be all spiritual for awhile.

Then there’s Easter, and we all pause to remember Christ rising from the tomb and we dare to imagine if God’s grace might cover us for all the stupid things we did at Carnival. But once that slips behind us, there’s a call to be a little wild at Spring break, and who are we to argue? Then it’s be nice to mom day. So we run buy cards and chocolate and some nice gift. When those hot summer days come, the world says, especially to the young…stay out late and explore. Do what you want, because after all, it’s summer. And many even in the church, follow that call. And in the middle of that, we stop and have a be nice to dad day. When society says that it is time to be patriotic, then we stand at attention and chant the pledge of allegiance and watch fireworks. Next we go back to school with little to look forward to except remembering those who work and remembering those who died in battle. When the season calls for halloween, society says buy candy and dress up, and do a few devilish tricks or be downright rotten and show a little of your dark side. And then, a few weeks later, when the calendar says be thankful, we gather and kill the fatted turkey, and talk about how thankful we are for all of God’s bounties…or at least for our own hard work that put all of the money in the bank and the food on the table.

And finally, we come to the Christmas season, and the norm is to act a little nicer, be a little more generous, let a few more things go that ordinarily we would nail people for, and of course, buy, buy, buy, so that our loved ones and significant people on our list will know that we love them, or at least would consider it a major faux pax if we were to not get them something. And then we start the cycle over again. And the scary thing is, the church is not far behind the rest of society in these things. What am I saying, that we shouldn’t celebrate holidays? Not at all. But we must recognize that we, like Timmy, have been programmed by society. And often, we go through the holidays and do everything the world does and never stop to think that we have been called to more. And when Jesus calls us to be different, we find it difficult, if not impossible, to respond to his call.

“Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2). If we are going to live the miracle of Christmas all year, that is, live in the joy of Jesus all year, we have got to allow Jesus control of our lives and break out of the mold the world is trying to squeeze us into.

History Shaped in a Cradle

The year was 1809. The international scene was tumultuous. Napoleon was sweeping through Austria; blood was flowing freely. Nobody then cared about babies. But the world was overlooking some terribly significant births.

For example, William Gladstone was born that year. He was destined to become one of England’s finest statesman. That same year, Alfred Tennyson was born to an obscure minister and his wife. The child would one day greatly affect the literary world in a marked manner.

On the American continent, Oliver Wendell Holmes was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts. And not far away in Boston, Edgar Allan Poe began his eventful, albeit tragic, life. It was also in that same year that a physician named Darwin and his wife named their child Charles Robert. And that same year produced the cries of a newborn infant in a rugged log cabin in Hardin County, Kentucky. The baby’s name? Abraham Lincoln.

If there had been news broadcasts at that time, I’m certain these words would have been heard: “The destiny of the world is being shaped on an Austrian battlefield today.” But history was actually being shaped in the cradles of England and America. Similarly, everyone thought taxation was the big news—when Jesus was born. But a young Jewish woman cradled the biggest news of all: the birth of the Saviour.

Isn’t it amazing that we have gotten so good at determining what is important and what is insignificant? We are masters of deciding, in a split second, what really matters. And isn’t it equally amazing that oftentimes we are dead wrong in our assessment?

We ascribe worth to the worthless and demean things that are truly of value. We value cash in our pockets more than the homeless man on the street all the while saying that we believe in the sanctity of human life. We devalue what we don't like or don't understand and we place a higher value on what we wish we had.

If the Baby in the manger teaches us anything it is to assess our own value systems. He left the wealth of heaven to come to a sinful, fallen world. He valued YOU and me more than life itself. Now that's some value!!

The Quiet

Quiet reigns on campus this morning as Christmas break officially started yesterday. Soft Christmas Carols are playing in my office as I sit and wonder just where this year has gone.

It has gone unbelievably fast and will soon be only a memory with its events recorded in our personal history books. And yet, we find ourselves here again. Christmas. All the lights, the commercialism, the clogged parking lots, the TV commercials calling us to buy, buy, buy. And with relatives coming, or with us traveling to see others, we long for it to be a Hallmark Christmas and hope that our family can stay away from any hot button topics. And all of that simply adds stress to the season. And as if that weren't enough, we still have 4 more gifts to buy and a few more holiday parties to attend.

We have certainly learned how to celebrate haven't we? We take a good thing and add others expectations along with our own expectations, and pile them high and deep...and then collapse under the weight of them.

But perhaps this year, maybe just for a short while, we should ponder that it just might be possible that the Christmas season should actually be more about the Quiet. Perhaps we should say, "Be still my soul and ponder the richness of life." Ponder the things that have happened this year that have brought joy, or perhaps the things that have brought pain, yet pain that was beneficial for your own growth.


Perhaps you and I should make it a point to rediscover the Quiet. Take a few moments to sit quietly outside on a clear night and just drink in the view of the stars. Or get up early and make a cup of your favorite hot beverage and sit staring out the window and just be quiet. And ponder. And along with all of your other ponderings, ponder this: There is a God who loves you beyond words. He loved you so much that He chose to come in the form of a Baby. To the quiet of a barn stall. With animals as the only observers.

It is almost unimaginable. Almost. But try. In the Quiet.

Merry Christmas everyone!

On Mud Puddles and Growth

If the truth were to be known, I bet you had your time playing in a mud puddle. If not a mud puddle, then I know you’ve played in the dirt. Or made mud pies and then tried to eat them….Anyone here want to fess up?

For whatever reason, children love to play in the dirt or mud. I’ve watched as kids grab a handful of dirt and sling it up in the air, only to have it come raining down on them. I’ve watched the more artistic ones mold mud into some creative shape. Of course, it's understandable to see small children playing happily in the dirt. That’s what kids do. They play in the dirt or the mud.

But, if you looked outside into your front yard and saw a 35-year old man doing the same thing, what would you think? There he is happily slinging dirt in the air, or patting out a brand new mud pie and trying to eat it. You’d think he’d flipped.

If we drove down the rode in our neighborhood and saw grown men and women splashing delightfully in the muddied ditches, we'd shake our heads in astonishment.

If we happened upon deacons at our churches tossing dirt into the air and laughing happily as it landed upon their heads, we'd be concerned.

If we saw Sabbath school teachers, and pastors, and ushers and any adult from our church out there rolling around and eating "mud pies" we'd have to step in and say, "Something's wrong here—stop acting like children."


You know, that's something that the Apostle Paul addressed when he spoke to the Corinthians adults acting like children. In 1st Corinthians 13, he sums up what he’s been saying, “ When I was a child I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put away childish things.


He basically saying, "Something's wrong with your lifestyle here! Stop acting like children. Grow up. Stop getting yourselves dirty. It's time to stop wallowing around in the mud. It's time to stop acting like you did when you were just a babe in Christ.”

Christian, we face the same problem today in many cases. We have Christians who still act like children. They bicker and feud over petty differences. They pass on gossip and talk behind each other's backs. They act rudely and selfishly, filled with bitterness and jealousy. In short, they’re still slinging mud. Stomping puddles. Acting like children.

You know what? There comes a time when adults need to start acting like adults. And there comes a time when Christians ought to act like Christians. We are made in the image of Christ and we bear His Name!

If we have accepted Christ, we have a calling on our lives. We have to come to terms with that. Jesus accepts us just the way we are…but He loves us too much to leave us that way. He wants to grow us and mature us. He wants us to put aside our old life and become just like Jesus.

If you’ve been a Christian for over 5 years and you still have an angry bitter spirit, something is wrong. If you’re still bickering or gossiping, something’s wrong. If you are still acting rudely or selfishly or you are full of jealousy or pride, something is wrong. Paul is in essence telling you to grow up. It’s time to get a life. A new life.

Coming to Jesus is an important step, but it can’t stop there. Letting him work in your life to change you to become just like Jesus is a more important step.

Firing Blanks for Christ?

Roy Robertson was a soldier at Pearl Harbor in 1941: Listen to his words. "My ship, the West Virginia, docked at Pearl Harbor on the evening of December 6, 1941. A couple of the fellows and I left the ship that night and attended a Bible study. About fifteen sailors sat in a circle on the floor. The leader asked us to each recite our favorite Scripture verse. In turn each sailor shared a verse and briefly commented on it.

I sat there in terror. I couldn't recall a single verse. I grew up in a Christian home, went to church three times a week, but I sat there terrified. I couldn't recall a single verse. Finally, I remembered one verse - John 3:16. I silently rehearsed it in my mind. The spotlight of attention grew closer as each sailor took his turn. It was up to the fellow next to me. He recited John 3:16. He took my verse! As he commented on it I sat there in stunned humiliation. In a few moments everyone would know that I could not recall from memory even a single verse. Later that night I went to bed thinking, 'Robertson, you're a fake.'

At 7:55 the next morning I was awakened by the ship alarm ordering us to battle stations. 360 planes of the Japanese Imperial Fleet were attacking our ship and the other military installations. My crew and I raced to our machine gun emplacement, but all we had was practice ammunition. So for the first fifteen minutes of the two-hour battle, we only fired blanks hoping to scare the Japanese airplanes.

As I stood there firing fake ammunition I thought, 'Robertson, this is how your whole life has been - firing blanks for Christ.' I made up my mind as Japanese bullets slammed into our ship, "If I escape with my life, I will get serious about following Jesus." Roy Robertson did get serious. He became the first missionary of "The Navigators" and did a lot of work with Billy Graham as well.

Let me ask you a question this morning? Are you growing more mature in the Lord or are you firing blanks for Christ?

The Coal Basket

The story is told of an old man who lived on a farm in the Blue Ridge mountains of Virginia with his young grandson. Each morning, Grandpa was up early sitting at the kitchen table reading from his old worn-out Bible. His grandson, who wanted to be just like him, tried to imitate him in any way he could.

One day the grandson asked, 'Papa, I try to read the Bible, just like you, but I don't understand it, and what I do understand, I forget as soon as I close the book. What good does reading the Bible do?

The Grandfather quietly turned from putting coal in the stove and said, “Take this old wicker coal basket down to the river and bring back a basket of water.”

The boy did as he was told, even though all the water leaked out before he could get back to the house. The grandfather laughed and said, “You will have to move a little faster next time,” and sent him back to the river with the basket to try again.

This time the boy ran faster, but again the old wicker basket was empty before he returned home. Out of breath, he told his grandfather that it was 'impossible to carry water in a basket,' and he went to get a bucket instead.

The old man said, “I don't want a bucket of water; I want a basket of water. You can do this. You're just not trying hard enough,” and he went out the door to watch the boy try again. At this point, the boy knew it was impossible, but he wanted to show his grandfather that even if he ran as fast as he could, the water would leak out before he got far at all.

The boy scooped the water and ran hard, but when he reached his grandfather, the basket was again empty. Out of breath, he said, “See Papa, it's useless!”

”So you think it is useless?” the old man said. “Look at the basket.” The boy looked at the basket and for the first time he realized that the basket looked different. Instead of a dirty old wicker coal basket, it was clean. ”Son, that's what happens when you read the Bible. You might not understand or remember everything, but when you read it, it will change you from the inside out.”

Moral of the wicker basket story: Take time to read a portion of God's word each day; It will affect you for good even if you don't retain a word.

Worry? Who Me?

Most of us spend our lives worrying, don’t we?  We worry about how people will accept us.  We worry about our clothes—are they nice enough or with it enough?. We worry about acne.  We worry about our bodies—are we too fat or too skinny or too tall or too short or too ugly or somehow not acceptable.  We worry about our social status.  Will someone find us attractive or will they shun us? We worry about what the guy or girl on the other side of the classroom is thinking about us. We worry about school work—are we smart enough to handle it or will we come out failing?  We worry about projects and papers and quizzes and tests.  We worry about whether we can stay in school and pay the bill.  We worry about our jobs—at least some of us do.  Others haven’t gotten there yet as they joy ride around on the golf cart of life.

As we get older, we worry about our careers, and our income—will we make enough to pay the bills and survive in the lifestyle we’ve grown accustomed to?  We worry about who we will marry, or if we will marry.  We worry about whether we will be able to have kids, and once we have them, that gives us something totally new to worry about.  How will we feed them and clothe them?  How will we educate them?  How can we get them through childhood in one piece when they continue to fall down and break bones or stick screwdrivers into electrical outlets, or jump off of swings when they are at their highest point?  And how can we pay for the rising cost of Dr. bills when they do those things?

We worry that they won’t do good enough in school or that they get into too many fights or that they won’t be accepted or that they might fail and not only make themselves look bad, but make us as parents look bad too.

We worry about the perpetual cough that we can’t seem to stop or the fever of one of the kids or about our aging parents.  We worry about the doctor’s report that says we have a tumor and we worry about cancer or strokes or high cholesterol and heart attacks.    We worry about tornadoes and earthquakes and hurricanes and fires.  We worry about our kids driving the highways at much too high a speed.  We worry about the other people on the roads with our kids.  Some of them we worry about because they might be drunk and could possibly hit one of our loved ones…and some we worry about because they happen to be on the road at the same time as our kid who just learned to drive—and they don’t yet know the lack of experience that our kid has.  And so we worry, not only for our kid, but for the people our kid might hit.

We worry about divorce and our future.  We worry about death and how to face it.  We worry about hell and heaven.  We worry about our family members that don’t know Jesus.  We worry that we don’t know Jesus well enough.  And we hate the question put to  us—If you were to die right now, do you know where you would spend eternity?  That worries us.  In fact, have you noticed?  We worry about just about everything.

And right in the middle of all of our worry, Jesus speaks.

Matt. 6:25 ¶  “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

Matt. 6:28 ¶  “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying,  ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.

That’s all well and good Jesus, but what do I do instead of worrying?  I mean, my life is eaten up with it.

And Jesus says, “I’m glad you asked!” Look at verse 33.

33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its’ own.

Do you hear God speaking to you this morning?  Don’t worry.  But Lord, I’m afraid that…and we continue our litany of worry.  And yet, over 200 times in the Scriptures, Jesus admonishes us to not be afraid.  And He adds His promises to help us realize why we don’t need to be afraid.  Ponder this.

John 14:1 ¶  “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. 2 In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.

John 14:25 ¶  “All this I have spoken while still with you. 26 But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. 27 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

Over and over God seeks to calm our fears.  Over and over He wants us to learn to rest our worries in the strength of His love for us.  Time and again, God calls us to stop worrying, start trusting and enjoy life.

Army Surplus Machetes--the Stuff of Wonder!

It was the spring of the year I would turn 12 when I made a discovery that would change my life.  One of my favorite places to go was to the army surplus store.  My dad, being a school principal, would often go there to see if there were some office supplies or a vehicle that he could pick up cheap for the school.  This particular trip, I got to accompany him.

I loved the musty old smell of the canvas tents and the cool look of the uniforms.  There were hats and gloves and wool pants for winter hiking.  There were hammocks and canteens and mess kits.  But I had already acquired a number of the regular articles.  I had $3 bucks in my pocket and I was on the hunt for the unusual.   I didn’t know what it was yet, but I was on my way to discovering it. 

While dad looked at the long sheet of available vehicles, I went up and down the aisles looking for that special find.  I looked at boots and handwarmers and gloves where you could slide your fingers out without taking them off.  I checked out compasses and whistles and survival kits and signaling mirrors.  All of them were cool, but they weren’t what I was looking for.

I was looking for that special “find”.  The kind that every young boy hopes to discover.  You don’t know exactly what it is until you find it, but once you find it, you just know that’s it.  The moment you lay eyes on it, you just know.  Girls could never really understand it.  But boys knew.  My sister would grow impatient and tell me just to find something and get on with it.

But I always wanted to hold out for that special find.   That moment that I just knew I had the find.  How do you know?  Because you know that the moment you unveil your find to your friends, they will think it’s the coolest thing they have ever seen.  And they’ll go: “That’s awesome!  Where did you get it?  How much did you pay?  Can I hold it?  Let me see that!”

That’s how you know you’ve got your genuine, authentic find.  I’m sure there are female counterparts, but I wasn’t looking for anything girly.  I was out, this particular day for a man-find.  So I continued the hunt.

I looked at ammo pouches and camouflage gun covers and camo face paint.  I thought I almost found it when I came across the grenade vests.  Those were cool with all the pockets for the grenades, but they weren’t quite the find since I didn’t have any grenades.

Next I looked at survival knives and helmets, but I already knew guys in the neighborhood that had those.  There was some Vietnam sunburn cream and some ice crampons in bins next to each other, but not what I was looking for either.  There were scopes and binoculars—too expensive.  Patches and insignias—already had ‘em.  And then I came around the corner…and there was my find!  Sitting right there at the end of the aisle.  I knew, as soon as I looked at it that this was it.  And it was only $2.50.

I grabbed one and went running towards the front of the store where dad continued to leaf through the pages of surplus vehicles.  This find would require his permission.  If I could only get him to let me buy it, I would soon be recognized as the most intrepid explorer on the block.

“Dad,” I almost shouted, “can I buy this?  I have enough money.”  Dad looked my way and a frown crossed his face.  This was going to be a hardsell.

“No, son, a machete is way too dangerous for a boy your age.”  He responded.  “You could get hurt or hurt someone else.”

“But dad, you’ve said yourself that those vines behind the house have got to go.  You said that they are taking over everything.  Well, with this, I could just hack them up for you and stack them and then when they are dried out, we could just burn them.  And I promise to be careful and only use it on vines and stuff like that out in the woods.”

There were a lot of vines, and dad saw I had lots of enthusiasm.  Maybe he could create a win-win.  “Ok, but you have to be careful and only use it on the vines.”

I was already on my way to the cash register.  Wait 'til the guys see this. 

The next few weeks were spent as king of the block as my machete, in it’s green canvas sheath,  hung from my green army surplus attachment belt.  I hacked through the vines, letting other guys try it out when I got tired.  In no time, all the vines were down and we were looking for other stuff to chop.  We entered the woods behind the house, where we hacked at the bottom of large grapevines, making ourselves tarzan style swings.  We hacked trails all through the woods, exploring, conquering and in general having a great time.  And one day I made another find.

I was out on one of our trails, when I spotted a dense thicket.  It was just the sort of thicket that needed hacking by an army surplus machete.  I left the trail and hacked my way over to it, and there discovered that it wasn’t just any old thicket.  This was a honeysuckle thicket.

I decided to make myself a fort.  A honeysuckle fort with a low hidden entrance.  So I hacked a little hole down at the bottom and crawled through.  Once deep inside, I hacked out enough room to lay down.  In no time, I was on my back, looking up through the ceiling of my honeysuckle fort to clouds beyond, grabbing flower after flower and breaking off the tips and sucking the nectar out of the end.  I loved that fort. I returned over and over, long after the flowers had gone and spent hours there, deep in my imagination, making up new adventures and then going out to conquer. It was a time of wonder.  Of awe.  Of aliveness. Do you remember times like that?

I began thinking of other times in life when I felt fully alive, enshrouded in awe and wonder.  And most of them were when I was a kid.  Though some are from when I was older.

The sight of a perfectly flat and smooth lake at 5 am, with the sun just coming up to chase the mist off of the water as our boat idled out of the cove and I was going out to learn how to barefoot ski.

Pausing at the top of a ski run in Breckenridge, Colorado to just look out at the winter scenery and being caught off guard at the beauty of the scene.

Sitting in a rocking chair on the backporch of a log cabin with a tin roof during a summer rain shower and just listening to rain and watching it run over the edge of the roof and splash at the base of the porch.

What happened to that sense of wonder?  Where did the awe go?  How did life become so flat and passionless?  How did we lose our childlike sense of awe?

In his book Dangerous Wonder: The Adventure of Childlike Faith, the late Mike Yaconelli suggests four obstacles that block adults from living the childlike faith that Jesus calls us to:

* The obstacle of dullness: we have made faith safe and comfortable, but the faith Jesus taught was radical and transforming.


* The obstacle of the dream stealers: we make a relationship with the living God into ritual and rules, quenching the work of the Spirit.


* The obstacle of predictability: we put God in a box, never allowing him to surprise us, challenge us, or show us something new, thus stifling the creativity of God.


* The obstacle of the banal: we become so immersed in our culture and in the material needs and wants of life, that we fail to live in abject dependence on God for every breath of air and every bite of bread.

Somehow, we have let society squeeze us into its mold.  We buy what society says we need to be happy.  We don’t dare do anything that might be against societal norms, except maybe go to church on Saturday, but we have a good reason.  We want our churches and schools to be nice, filled with nice people, and somehow we grow more concerned over how we look rather than how we see.

Never mind that Jesus called us to a radical faith, where radical things happen.  He called us to follow Him.  When was the last time you actually did?

Just try and follow Him through scripture without being amazed.  He started with nothing and created everything.  Ponder that for an hour and see what happens to your sense of awe.

In the first book of the Bible alone, you have creation, sin, a plan revealed to save man, wickedness   Ponder that.  We thought the Christmas tsunami in Asia was horrific a few years ago with over 500,000 dead or missing.  And it was.  We were shocked and yet in awe of the devastating power of one wave.  Whole countries totally built or revamped their early warning systems based on one wave.

increasing, a world-wide flood.

But a world-wide flood.  That’s epic.  Only 8 made it out alive.  Their descendants tried to develop a safety net.  A tower to escape another world-wide flood…but God now mixed their languages so that confusion would set in and they would move off and start new settlements.

You’ve got God telling a 110 year old man that his 90 year old wife is going to be pregnant.  That’s amazing by itself.  But it actually happens.  Then God calls for Abraham to sacrifice that son.

Later in scripture, God sends plagues to deliver  His people.  He opens a corridor in the sea. He leads by a pillar of cloud by day and fire by night.  He uses manna to feed them, and water from a rock to quench their thirst.

Do you see anything ordinary about His actions?   Can you follow that kind of a God.

When Jesus comes to show us what God is really like, it gets more intense.

Protecting an adulterous woman but chastising the church leaders.  Turning over tables in the temple and chasing tons of adults off, immediately followed by children and the poor flocking around him

Healing lepers through touch, when the rules said you don’t touch.  Healing a man blind from birth, but getting into trouble with the Pharisees because He did it on the Sabbath.

Eating at the wrong houses; those of Sinners.  Hanging out with the wrong people: adulterers, demoniacs, tax collectors, lepers, and prostitutes. 

Are you really following Jesus?  Have you followed Him even to associate with those type of people, treating them with love and respect just like He did.

We’ve lost our sense of wonder because we’ve allowed life to become tame.  No…not allowed it to become tame…we have tamed it, so that it is nice.  We want it comfortable.  And we want a nice tame Jesus.

But again, as Mike Yaconelli points out in his book, Dangerous Wonder, “Tameness is not an option. 

“Take surprise out of faith and all that is left is dry and dead religion. Take away mystery from the gospel all that is left is a frozen and petrified dogma. Lose your awe of God and you are left with an impotent diety. Abandon astonishment and you are left with meaningless piety. When religion is characterized by sameness, when faith is franchised, when the genuineness of our experience with God is evaluated by its similarities to others’ faith, then the uniqueness of God’s people is dead and the church is lost.”

Yaconelli offers this challenge to the dull, dreamless, predictable, and banal faith that most of us refer to as "Christianity":

“It is time to find the place where the dangerous wonder of faith can be discovered—a place landscaped by risky curiosity, wild abandon, daring playfulness, quiet listening, irresponsible passion, happy terror and naïve grace. In a day when most of us are tired, worn-out, thirsty, and starving for life and joy and peace, maybe it is time to become a child again.

What does that mean? I think it can be boiled down to one word. Savor. A child naturally savors life. When I was in the middle of my honeysuckle fort, I savored it. I enjoyed it. I soaked it in. But our hurry and worry never allow us to pause for wonder."

Albert Einstein once said, “He who can no longer pause to wonder, is as good as dead.”  And I think he’s right.  It’s proven over and over as you watch the lives of people who are always rushing.  They can’t pause…they have to rush.  No time to pause for God, because they will be late.  No time to pause to savor life, because time is money.  No time to pause and savor relationships, because there are 3 jillion things on their  to-do lists.

So much to savor, yet we seldom do.  We seldom stop to reflect and soak in what is truly deserving of our awe.  And yet when we do stop and savor, awe comes almost as a by-product.

So when will YOU stop...and savor?

(Dangerous Wonder, Mike Yaconelli, NavPress; 2 edition (September 16, 2003

Who is the Greatest? or Am I Better Than You?

One of the most interesting and challenging statements of Jesus occurs just after the mother of James and John has asked that they be allowed to have the highest positions in Jesus’ coming kingdom.  Jesus responded that it was not his place to grant positions in heaven, but His Father’s.   But the mere asking really irritated the other disciples.  It annoyed them to think that someone was trying to get the top spots in the kingdom.  Not because they had anything against James and John, but because it would mean that they wouldn’t be in the top slot.

And so Jesus responds to the whole lot of them with one of the toughest teachings in the Bible.  It’s found in Matt. 20:25-28. 

V.25 Jesus called them together and said,  “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. 26 Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, 27 and whoever wants to be first must be your slave — 28 just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Notice that Jesus isn’t just suggesting here.  Notice that he isn’t merely hinting.  He is very straightforward in turning their pre-conceived ideas upside down with a new command that makes sense, but it doesn’t make sense all at the same time.  He is telling them that if they want to be great in God’s kingdom, they must be counter-cultural, go against the systems and structures set up by man, and become a servant.  They must strive for what we would call today, downward mobility.

I don’t think they cared much for the idea.  As a matter of fact, not long after this, they were traveling to Capernaum they began arguing quietly among themselves as they trudged the road behind Jesus.

Mark 9:33 ¶ They came to Capernaum. When he was in the house, he asked them,  “What were you arguing about on the road?”

Mark 9:34 But they kept quiet because on the way they had argued about who was the greatest.

It is ever upwards in their minds.  How do I get to the top?  How do I become numero Uno?  Is it possible to edge someone else out?  And we can’t finger point.  We do the same thing, don’t we? Oh, we know our place at work or school, but it isn’t without the thoughts, “Well, if I were running this show, I would…”  And it’s very easy to try and discount anyone who may be in authority over us.  We want to move up the ladder, to go higher and get better.  We want people to recognize that we are just a bit superior.  That we sure aren’t as ignorant or as back woodsy or as unsophisticated as those rednecks, or geeks or hillbillies.  No matter where you find yourself on the food chain, what do you do?  You look around to see who has it better and who has it worse.  And we can all say, “Well at least I’m not as bad as….” Or “If only I could…then I’d…”

Who’s the greatest?   That’s the question we are really asking.  Am I better than?  And Jesus’ response to His disciples might rattle our cage as well.

Mark 9:35 ¶ Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said,  “If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all.”
They didn’t much like that…and neither do we.  We don’t much like the thought of downward mobility.  We sure don’t like the idea of going to the end of the line.  And if someone cuts in on us…it makes our blood boil.  Jesus ups the ante.

36 ¶ He took a little child and had him stand among them. Taking him in his arms, he said to them, 37  “Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me.”

Great pastor Don, I have no problem welcoming little children.  It’s the teenagers that drive me nuts!  And what does this have to do with the church anyway?  I’m glad you asked.

One of the reasons the church has such a hard time allowing young people to participate is because we don’t want to lose control.  We reason that we had to pay our dues in order to gain leadership positions in the church, so they should have to pay theirs.  And as long as they haven’t paid theirs, they are subject to whatever we like, because, after all, we are on top.  How do you think Jesus would respond to that idea?  If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all.  Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me.”

Not only are we welcoming Jesus when we determine to serve young people, but we are also welcoming God the Father and the Holy Spirit as well.  If we are to become a people who disciple young people, we must become servant leaders.  But what does that mean?

First of all, it means choosing a path of downward mobility.  Choosing to relinquish any rights I may think I have in the church, for the sake of winning others and discipling them.  It means making a conscientious choice to build into the life of another person.  It means being less concerned with me, and what I like, and more concerned with you and what will win you to Jesus.  Who is the greatest?

It still isn't me or you.  It isn't even the kids we serve.  It always has been and always will be Jesus. And He has called us to follow His example and go lower.  How will we respond?

It's Everybody's Choice

It was a hot, humid Sabbath, back in the day before air-conditioning.  The windows were all open, flies buzzed in and out, fans stationed at strategic locations around the church churned the otherwise breezeless air.  I sat there with sweat running down my back, my forehead, my chest—pretty much any pore that could sweat was sweating.  I have no idea what the pastor said, for in my misery, his voice had long ago become little more than a drone in the background of my suffering.

I looked around and saw many other church members stirring up the air themselves with whatever they could get hold of, be it funeral home fans, camp-meeting fans, or just hymnals out of the rack, and trying to pay attention.  Others had succumbed to the heat and were dozing, some quietly, some not so quietly. Other kids, like me, were trying to simply endure to the end.  Some were watching the flying insects.  Some were counting ceiling tiles.  One had abandoned his seat altogether, and had crawled under the pew and was now laying on the cool tile floor right in front of one of the square box fans sitting on the floor.  He was fast asleep.  I privately envied him, knowing that death would be my fate if I tried something similar on my side of the church.

The pastor, in his dark suit, with the coat on and buttoned, literally had rivulets of water pouring down his forehead, which he swiped repeatedly with an already soaked handkerchief as he continued to preach.  I don’t know how he did it.

And somewhere in the middle of my agony, the question came clearly to my mind.  I had no answer for it that day, and I’m not sure that I  have a much better answer for it on this day.  The question?  Why do we do this?  Why do we come to church week after week when nothing ever seems to change?

On that day for me, as on this day for some of you, the answer was that I was there because I had to be there. My parents had insisted I be there, so I was there because I had to be.  But others had actually chosen to be there.  What was that about?

In that day and time, a person was measured in the church community, as well as the society at large, by their behavior.  It seemed to be externally focused.  Look good…you are good.  Look bad…you are bad.  It didn’t seem to matter what a person was really like on the inside.  If you didn’t look or act just right on the outside, you were judged harshly.  So maybe many of them came to avoid judgment.  Or perhaps they came because they wanted to move up in the church community.

Or maybe from my perspective, I was the one being a bit harsh, because there probably were some there because they truly loved Jesus.  I mean, there had to be some there because of that.  It’s just that it seemed like nothing ever changed in that church.  Week after week, summer, spring, winter and fall, we would all be there, and outside of a few amusing incidents, I can’t really remember anyone changing.

Miss C, an old maid spinster, was still mean outside of church.  Mr. R. still yelled at little kids who didn’t go right into church, asking them if they wanted to go to hell, because that’s where they were headed if they didn’t get right into church…which is where some of us thought we were on those hot summer days IN church.  The story was that Mr. B would beat his kids if they didn’t sit still during church as well as their one-hour family worships, and the two older ones often came to school with bruises on their legs and arms.  Mrs. M. gossiped about everyone to everyone.  And it was widely known, probably through Mrs. M, that Mr. H was making political moves towards being nominated head elder so that he could run the church the way he thought it ought to be, and that included maybe even getting rid of the pastor, if need be.

Then there was the pantry patrol, a group of ladies who would go to the homes of others in the church to make sure that they didn’t have any “forbidden’s” in their pantry or refrigerators.  No sugar. No pop.  No mustard.  No vinegar. Nothing that would be against the health message they touted.  Moderation was not part of their vocabulary.  Nor was kindness.  As strict vegetarians, they also sought to make all others vegetarian, and woe be unto you if they found some meat in your fridge.  Eggs, somehow were ok…but not chicken.

The gospel preached back in that day emphasized more the hardship of following Jesus, and how much you had to do, or not do, and how much you were supposed to give up. It was about conquering all known sin, at least any that people could see. It was about passing out tracts and literature, distributing articles of clothing and Bible studies given.  It was about getting your Ingathering goal…not giving it, and it was about making sure that others knew that you had done your part for the church, whatever that may be.  It seemed to be all about externals—but though people did some pretty whacky things, like the pantry patrol, it never really seemed to make a difference in their day-to-day lives.  It just seemed like people were working like mad to get to heaven.

Gradually, the pendulum began to swing back the other direction.  People actually acknowledged that one could be saved by grace, through faith, and not from the works they were doing.  But as pendulum swings go, it kept going through its swing until we get down to now, where we are on the other side of the pendulum swing.

We’ve opted now for such a grace orientation, that we almost never talk about Christ's life and death and resurrection giving us the victory over sin anymore.  We’ve just accepted living with it and repeating a pattern of sin, feel guilty, ask forgiveness, sin, feel guilty, ask forgiveness, etc.   We’ve actually settled for sin management, instead of sin conquering.  Which is not new either.

That started back in the garden.  Check out  Genesis 3:6,7  When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. 7 Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.

We get pretty hard on Adam and Eve for plunging us all into sin, but the fact is, they had never heard a lie before, and they had no clue that all beings weren’t totally honest.  They did not know that deception existed.  They had only had truthful dealings with God.  Everything He told them was true, and they had no reason to doubt.  Isn’t it logical then to assume that in their innocence, they would have no reason to doubt what the serpent said? Satan knew this, and used it to his advantage.  But once they had bitten on the lie, innocence faded away.

Isn’t it interesting that when the abrupt realization comes that they were not innocent anymore, and that suddenly they find themselves vulnerable and naked, they instantly start trying to manage sin?

They sewed fig leaves together to cover their nakedness, caused by their transgression.  Now here’s the real interesting thought.  Adam and Eve had never heard of deception before.  They were innocent and had no knowledge of evil, or lies or anything…they were led to sin because they trusted a serpent to be honest with them, even though the serpent contradicted God.  Their doubt, their desire to be like God, and their acting on that desire caused them to fall, though they had never seen sin or lies or evil before.

We, on the other hand, have known about deceit almost from birth.  We know of evil and disease.  We have a written history of how it started.  We have the story of sin and of redemption.  We know that Jesus has made a way out for us when He died on the cross.  We know all of this, and yet we still sin.  And we still make excuses.  And in our teaching today, we have actually made it all ok.

See, whenever we teach that salvation is by mental assent, or intellectual belief, that doesn’t also include transformed behavior, we have given ourselves permission to keep on sinning.  And we make excuses.  We sew fig leaves.  “Well, that’s just the way I am!  I can’t help it.”  “I was born with a red-hot Irish temper—so I can’t help it.”  “My dad had a problem with chasing other women, so I guess it just comes naturally.”  That may be the way you are, but it is not the way Jesus wants to leave you.

How much longer will we go on pretending to be Christians, while doing everything the world does?  When will we realize that to do everything the world does, would actually make us non-Christian?  When will we realize that to do so is really fraudulent of the church at large?  That we are actually telling people we are what, in fact, we really aren’t?

Rom. 12:1,2  Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices,(a sacrifice is a total giving up of something—here Paul is saying to offer yourself as a sacrifice) holy and pleasing to God — this is your spiritual act of worship.  2 Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is — his good, pleasing and perfect will.

God is calling you this morning to a transformation.  It is true that Jesus loves you just where you are…but He loves you too much to leave you that way.  He wants you to become just like Jesus.  And if you are not becoming more and more like Jesus, you are not truly a disciple. 

If you are not being transformed into the image of Jesus, then you are not truly following as a disciple.  If your temper problem is not more under control today than it was when you first started following, you haven’t truly given it to Jesus.  If you still lie, or gossip or steal, then you need to bring those things to Jesus and let Him begin the transformation process.  If you don’t love others more now, than when you first started with Jesus, then you haven’t been doing the discipleship coursework.

Accepting His gift is one thing.  It’s the first step.  That’s what we call justification.  But walking in His steps is the second step and the third…and so on, until you become like Jesus.  That’s sanctification.  Your faith becomes obvious in your life by the changes that take place due to your obedience to Jesus.

We’ve got to rearrange our goals from being successful, or wealthy or even noble and instead, make our goal to be a committed follower of Jesus.  Until we do, we will lack passion, and perspective and priorities and perseverance to follow Jesus.  And we won’t see the fruit of the Spirit growing in our lives.  And we won’t tell others about the kingdom, even though we know that Jesus asked us to.  And we will be weak, spineless, Christ-less Christians, which are really not Christians at all.  And as a result, because the individual members lack those things, the whole church will be weak, spineless and Christ-less, which means that we really aren’t a Christian church, no matter how much we may identify ourselves that way.

It all goes back to a choice.  It’s everybody’s choice.  Each of you have to make it.  A choice, not only to take the first step with Jesus…which many of you did last Sabbath by accepting His grace and forgiveness in your lives, but also a choice to take the second step, by accepting His grace and leadership into your lives.  He not only wants to forgive you, He wants to transform you into His likeness.  He wants to change you from who you are to who He wants you to be.  He wants to help you overcome your sin and bad habits and He wants to rule in your heart.  He wants you to talk and act and think and become Just like Jesus.

God calls us to more than just a mental assent to the truth.  He calls us first of all to repentance.  And then He calls us to live the life of Jesus.  To believe what Jesus believed. Live as Jesus lived. To love like Jesus loves.  To minister like Jesus ministered.  To lead as Jesus led.