The Kingdom of Heaven is Like a Mustard Seed

Have you ever seen a mustard seed?  Tiny little thing.  You can barely see it.  In one place Jesus talked about a mustard seed faith.  But in Luke 13:18,19, Jesus said "What is the kingdom of God like?  What shall I compare it to?  It is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his garden.  It grew and became like a tree, and the birds of the air perched in it's branches."

End of parable.  Say what?  What in the world is Jesus trying to say here?  The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed?  I don't get it.  So here are some questions to consider for this week's sermon:


How is the kingdom of God like a mustard seed?  Is the size of the seed significant?  How much does it grow?  And if the kingdom of God is supposed to be inside of you, can you see any evidence that it is growing inside of you?  Do you think this parable has anything to do with God's kingdom growth plan?  Why or why not?

Leave me your comments or questions and we will try to address them in this week's message. If you can't be at the GCA Church this week, you can still hear the sermon next week on iTunes or at the GCA Church Website: http://gcachurch.org.

Pastor Don

Ponderings on Priorities, Projects and People

Lately life has been coming fast and furious at me.  A meeting here, a seminar there, and my 35th alumni homecoming (THAT was fun...but exhausting) Then there are mission trips to be planned, baptisms to conduct and board meetings to chair.  Not to mention all of the people who need a listening ear.  And last week we had a slew of tornadoes that took down quite a few church members trees and that resulted in a few days of chainsaw ministry.  Not to mention the regular everyday stuff of life--oh--and let's not forget TAXES!  (Yes I did procrastinate, thank-you, because of all of this other stuff.)

Point being, it seems as if there is always something to do or someone wanting a piece of my time or energy.  And that's all good.  But it is also wearisome.  Most days I'm up to the task, but some days I just want to hide and do nothing.  I want to simply pull the covers over my head and wish the world to go away.  But I don't because I know I would be further behind.


So yesterday, I'm in my truck driving back from an action-packed, fast-moving seminar up in the Scenic City on how to manage multiple priorities, projects and deadlines, and I'm thinking about how I have a lot of work to do to be up to the incredible efficiency levels of many others in the class, and then it hits me:  Maybe I'm not supposed to manage multiple priorities, projects and deadlines all the time.  Maybe not even much of the time.  As a matter of fact, maybe it isn't God's intent that I manage them at all, especially if it means I devalue people.

Yet I do it too often.  I get so intent on priorities, projects and deadlines that sometimes I push people right out of my picture.  I begin to see them as annoying interruptions to my day or something that simply sidetracks or delays me from being "really productive". 

And so I pondered what it means to be "productive", especially in my line of work as a pastor--but really, for any child of God.  And my pondering brought me to this:  Anytime I begin to see people as nothing more than interruptions to my productivity, I have already begun to be less than Christ-like, which is actually counterproductive to sharing the gospel.  Jesus came to die for people.  Not multiple priorities, projects or deadlines.

The work will always be there.  The projects never cease.  As soon as I finish one, another stands in line waiting for attention.  But Jesus said that His work was "to do the will of the One who sent me." If I'm a Christian...or Christ-follower, then isn't that my true work as well?  How is it that I've fallen for anything less than doing the will of the One who sent me?  But here I am trying to struggle against the many competing priorities, projects and deadlines that seem to always loom large on the horizon of my life.

So maybe I have to deal with them.  But maybe, in God's economy, I need to make sure that they never surpass people in their importance to me.  Jesus came to seek and to save people.  I must do no less. 

What about you?

David Phelps - No More Night

 

As I sat and listened to David Phelps singing No More Night, I was transported deep in my soul to that day when we will be carried away to heaven to finally meet Jesus. I let my heart go with the song and found myself temporarily lifted from the darkness of this old world and imagining what that will be like. No more night, no more pain, no more tears or crying again. No more death, no more darkness. Instead we will live in the light of the risen Lamb. We will be singing praises for eternity and falling more and more in love with Jesus as eternity rolls.

But I wonder, what keeps us from living there now? I know we can't be literally in heaven, of course, but what keeps us from living with Jesus and falling more and more in love with Him as time rolls on? What keeps us satisfied with the darkness of this dismal place? What makes us think that this old world is so much better that we don't even want to go to heaven?

We do have some good days here. Some beautiful days. And as spring begins to return to the Southland where I live, the days are getting longer and prettier. The birds seem to be singing a little more and trees are starting to bud. The daffodils have already begun to stick their heads up through the soil and open their faces to the sky. And I have to admit--it's gorgeous. But as beautiful as it is, there are still friends, this week, who have lost parents, children, and still others who have been diagnosed with cancer. Is that what keeps me so enamored of this world? Not hardly.

Perhaps it isn't so much that I am so much in love with this world as it is that I am afraid of the unknown. Yet, Jesus came to make the unknown known. He came so that we could see Him and learn what the Father is like. He came so that we could learn to trust Him and also trust His promises to us. What was it He said in John 14? Don't let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms. If it weren't so, don't you think I would have told you? I'm going to prepare a place for you--and if I go, I will come again to get you and to take you where I am."

So maybe I'm afraid of the unknown because I don't really know and trust Jesus. Maybe it stays unknown because HE stays unknown by me. Which would only mean that as I come to know Jesus more and more, I will trust Him more and more and therefore I will trust His promises to me more and more--which makes the unknown known. Suddenly I know perfect Love and perfect Love casts out all fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of suffering. Fear of death. And when I know and trust Jesus, the promises spring to life and I can let my soul sing with conviction, like David Phelps, about a day that is coming where there will be no more night.

May you know Jesus more and more so that you will never have to fear the unknown again. Let Him make it known to you--and you will look forward to that day where there is no more pain, no more tears, no more death, no more cancer, no more darkness--just the Light of the Risen Lamb!

The Great Struggle

As a pastor, as well as husband, father, uncle, brother, cousin, nephew, etc...no matter what role I play, I always figured the older I got the easier life would be.  There would be more money, less temptations, easier decisions and less struggles than I had in my teens, twenties and even thirties.  But I'm finding that it isn't really easier, just different.  Those things that once tempted me in my youth don't offer the same appeal, (partly because I'm now smarter having learned from painful experiences, and partly because they take too much energy) yet, it would seem that the devil always puts forth something that is enticing no matter what age I become.

I strive to be a decent person, a kind person and a positive person, but that isn't what God is looking for.  He's looking simply for a friend.  He's looking for someone who is totally yielded to Him, someone He can live out His life in.  Unfortunately, as long as I seek to retain control over me, I will be unable to see Him living in and through me, because He can't.  And therein lies the struggle, no matter what age.

I've been reading the Jesus Manifesto by Leonard Sweet and Frank Viola, and they have an interesting concept in there.  Their premise is that the reason so many Christians have such a hard time succeeding at being followers of Christ is because they fail at this struggle.  And the reason they fail at this struggle is because they are trying to live the Christian life from the perspective of the wrong tree.

In the Garden of Eden there were two trees.  One was the Tree of Life.  If Adam and Eve ate from this tree, life would flow through them and they could continue to live for eternity.  But there was another tree: the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.   God desired that they should only know good.  They were created knowing nothing of evil.  But Satan convinced them that if they wanted to be like God, they should eat of this tree, because then their eyes would be open and they would know both good and evil.  Since they had no idea what evil was, we can only presume that what really caught their attention was wanting to be like God.  They suddenly felt as if God were holding out on them and they desired to find out what it was.  They wanted to be in control of their own knowledge.

Up to that point, all they had to do was eat from the Tree of Life and it was effortless to live.  The life-giving quality of the fruit coursed through their veins and sustained their very lives.  When Jesus was here, He showed us the way to life.  "I am THE Way, THE Truth and THE LIFE.  No one comes to the Father except through me." (John 14:6)   He also said,  "I am the bread that gives life! No one who comes to me will ever be hungry. No one who has faith in me will ever be thirsty." (John 6:35)  And in John 15:5 He said, " I am the vine, and you are the branches. If you stay joined to me, and I stay joined to you, then you will produce lots of fruit. But you cannot do anything without me."

Do you see it?  The great struggle is not resisting sin or fighting off secular humanist or atheists or even trying to be good.  It's about partaking of the Bread of Life- Jesus- and allowing His life to course through your veins.  The reason we fail so often in the Christian Life is because we are trying to serve Christ from the other Tree--the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.  Notice there is still good there.  And it is often out of our knowledge of the Good that we seek to serve.  It is often from our wanting to retain control of how we do things and when we do things instead of letting Jesus simply live and reign in us that we are overcome by our own weaknesses.  The Struggle then, is to choose to let go of my way and choose to simply stay connected to the right Tree.  Let Jesus be your Tree of Life.  Partake of Him often, and let Him live out His life within you, and you will find that the struggle, the temptations, the burnout, the discouragement and the desire to quit will melt away.

But there will always be The Great Struggle.  Only your choice will make the difference.  Which Tree will you choose to live by?

The End

Two words.  They can leave us satisfied or wanting more.  Sometimes you might even be overjoyed to come to the end.  We might get to the end of a good movie and feel satisfied.   We might get to the end of a good lasagna and want more.  Or we might get to the end of a grueling backpack trip or an off-key rendition of a song and be overjoyed that it is the end.  Some have even expressed they were glad when I came to the end of a sermon.   But no matter what you are talking about, when you get to the end...that's it.  It's the end.  So whether your satisfied or wanting more or overjoyed or relieved,  really depends on where you are and what you are doing and how you feel about it when the end comes.

We all have times when the end comes and we are sad.  The end of high school.  The end of a favorite childhood dream.  The end of childhood innocence. (...and naptimes.)  The end of a job that you like.   When the end comes--that's it.  And transitions leave us just a bit unsettled.

Sometimes when the end comes, we are more ready for it.  We are anxious to move on.  Like the end of high school.  Or College.  Or a job we hate.  And suddenly we find ourselves again in transition.  Even there though, the transitions can still be unsettling. 

A few weeks ago, my uncle came to the end of his earthly journey.  And the next week, a very dear friend also came to the end of his time on earth.  And the interesting thing is, when one comes to the end, there is only a split second between life and death.  One second they are alive-the next, they aren't.  And for those left behind,  life is also split in two.  Before that moment and after that moment.  They will never be the same.  They came to the end with their loved one and then they entered the transition from normal to chaos and eventually they will come to a new normal.

But now you and I (as well as the rest of the world) are coming to another end.  The end of a year.  Some will be relieved.  Some sad.  Some overjoyed.  Some wanting more.  Your reaction to it will depend on what type of year you have had.  If you have had a great year, you probably hope things will continue on into the new year.  If you have had a bad year, you are probably looking forward to 2011 with renewed hope and higher expectations.

No matter what your view, this year will come to an end.  Gone. Behind you.  Receding into history.  It can never be lived over.  Mistakes can't be undone.  Words can't be unspoken.  And though relationships can mend over time, the damage that you cause will always leave a scar.  So the question comes: How did you live this year?  How did you respond to the good times?  What about the bad?  Did you meet them with an unshakable faith and determination to let God grow you through them or did you find yourself whining and complaining about all of your trials?  Did you grow more like Jesus in the way you learned to depend on the Father, or did you blame God and everyone around you for making you miserable?

The interesting thing about coming to the end of many things is that they often give you a chance at a new beginning.  Kindergarten ends and you move on to first grade.  Elementary ends and you start over in high school.  When that ends, you move on to a new start in college or you begin to pursue an occupation.  And the same thing happens with years.  When one ends, another starts, bringing with it a new chance to step up and meet the challenges with a new attitude and renewed determination.

As you face this new year, what things do you need to address in order to grow?  Where do you need God to step in and grow you?  What are some of your hopes, dreams and aspirations for this new year?  I'm not talking about New Year's Resolutions that won't make it past January 15.  I'm talking about real, deep, lasting life-change brought about by allowing the Spirit of God to work in and through you?  Will you grow this year?  Or will you come to the end of another year still hobbled by your habits, controlled by your lack of self-discipline, and unable to control your anger?

Here's the deal.  None of us can make decisions for the other--but I can make decisions for me.  And I want to grow.  By this time next year I want to be a better person.  I want to be a more Godly man.  I want Jesus to shine into and through me.  As I come to the end of this year, I want to leave my failures behind and press on towards my ultimate goal: knowing Jesus.   And I hope you do too, so that when the End comes and Jesus returns, you and I will together take the next natural step over the threshold of heaven into a brand new beginning.



May you have a blessed and hope-filled New Year.  And may God bless you real good!
The End. (at least for now)

Vending Machine God

Dad holding my son, Donnie to get a drink

"If you let Dad die, God, I’ll quit the ministry,” I muttered to myself as I sped down I-205 towards my parent’s house in Portland, Oregon. Up to this point, my life had been one of pleasant memories, successful youth ministry and happy times with my family. To be sure, we had our moments, but now, suddenly I was faced with one of the most difficult situations of my life.  We had watched as a rather large lump under dad’s right arm had turned into an ugly, oozing, bleeding, ulcerous tumor that was approximately 7-9 inches across. The diagnosis: melanoma, the worst form of skin cancer.  The prognosis: 3 to 6 months.

We prayed. We wept.  We encouraged others to pray with us.   Thousands from all across the country, even across the world, prayed that dad would be healed.  I felt sure that healing was in the bag.  If it had to do with the amount of prayers or the sincerity of prayer, then dad should have been healed.  If it had to do with faith and seeking the Lord, then dad should have been healed. But he wasn’t.  He died.

A few Sundays before dad died, he could not stand up without two or three people helping him out of bed. I had spent the greater portion of the night praying.  I really wanted God to work a miracle.  I had read the stories in the gospels of all the people that Jesus healed. I had read the stories in Acts where Peter (Acts 5:15,16) was walking through crowds and people were clamoring to put their sick in his shadow as they passed and they were healed. I had read stories of
Paul (Acts 19:11,12) walking through crowds who were passing their handkerchiefs and aprons over to Paul so that he might touch them and send them back, and Acts declares that all of them were healed.

Then there were the proclamations of Jesus, “If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.”( Matt 21:22) “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” (Matt 7:7) “Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name.” (John 15:16)

I had believed. I had asked.  I didn’t doubt that God could do it. I had prayed hard and long that night, yet somehow, was still like the disciples in the Garden. Somewhere along the line, I had fallen asleep.  Now doubt plagued me. Would my sleeping preclude my miracle?  Never mind that I had only averaged only 3-4 hours of sleep for the previous 3 weeks as I sat by the bedside of my dying father. Never mind that I was driving 40 minutes one way to go home at least once during each 24 hour period and see my family, and that usually for only an hour or two. This particular night, I had decided that I would keep a prayer vigil and pray all night. Yet, I found myself waking up on the floor of my study at 4 am loathing the weakness of my humanity. “Lord, I believe!” I cried, “Help my unbelief!”

About 6 o’clock, I felt an impression to go to dad’s and say to him, “In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and be healed.” And so now I sped down I-205 wrestling with myself and God. The struggle raged.  Inwardly, I said, “If I go and do this thing, and nothing happens, I’ll be really embarrassed.  How would that look for a pastor?”  On the other hand I thought, “But if I don’t, that could be the very thing that saves him.” I thought of Namaan’s servant saying, “If he had asked you to do a big thing, wouldn’t you have done it?” I wrestled.  I prayed.  And then the thought came, “If you let Dad die, God, I’ll quit the ministry.” The turmoil continued to rage for most of the trip down.  As I turned into dad’s neighborhood, a peace overtook me, and I was resolute that God wanted me to go in and pray and ask Him to raise dad up. I was confident that God would do that.

I entered the room. No one was with dad at the time, so I told him that I felt impressed that we should pray for his healing once again, only this time I felt that God was calling on us to demonstrate our faith in Him by actions.  Dad said, “I think you are right.  I appreciate that about you...always being a man of faith.”

I prayed. Hard.   And then I said, “in the name of Jesus Christ, I say to you, get up and be healed.” Without hesitation, dad holding on to my hand, swung his feet off the bed and began to feebly stand. About halfway up, he gathered strength from somewhere and straightened all the way up.  We both stood there holding on to each other for a magical moment wondering if indeed the healing was happening, and then he said, “Help me lay back down.  God may heal me in stages.”  I helped him back into bed and then he said, “Thanks for your faith.  Thanks for your love that would prompt you to pray for me. And don’t worry.  God will heal me.  Now or then.”

I left the room very bewildered and very embarrassed.  Angry with God for asking me to do that.  Angry with myself for possibly misreading His cues. Angry because it felt as if the devil was just taunting me.  Throwing my faith in my face as totally preposterous.  Was it a lack of faith?  Was I acting on what I believed God wanted me to do? Why would God have me do something that He wasn’t going to answer.

I don’t think dad ever mentioned it again and I wondered if he was embarrassed by it. He didn’t seem to be.  The thing that got me was that his trust was immediate.  He was willing to try whatever means were available because he loved us and he loved life so much.  And he truly believed that God was going to heal him.  So to him, I don’t think he was embarrassed, even though I was.

After much thought, here is what I think the point must be. (Or at least some thoughts that can be drawn from the whole experience.) First, I think that God may have been testing me to see if I would trust Him no matter what. I had thought that if dad died, I would leave the ministry.  What use would it be to serve a God who didn’t answer prayers?  Why minister to the goodness of a God that wasn’t so good?  I think God’s point was, “Hey, no matter what happens, I will still be in control and you don’t h
ave to worry. I will take care of your dad.  And I will take care of you.  So do you believe me or not?”

Second, I would have regretted never trying it if I had kept silent and dad had died. I could truly say that I had tried everything, and could rest knowing that God had another plan.  If I had never experienced that, I could never have forgiven myself, and so I think God gave me the urge to go ahead and try what I had read in the Bible. I think God wanted me to see that sometimes all of the notions that we have, or all of the “magic” words we want to speak do not hold the power. Only God does.   I figured that if those words worked in the Bible, they just might work now, and that if I didn’t try them, they might have been the words to save dad.  But such is not the case.  

God is not moved by our “magic” words. He is moved by our heart.  He isn’t interested in our notions. What He wants is to be loved freely.  With no strings attached. With no “magic” words.  And He risks being misunderstood and spurned rather than perform to my tune. The love He wants me to share with Him is not a love based on manipulation or insecurity. It is a love based on a deep abiding trust.  And the question comes back, “Do I trust Him no matter what?” If I only trust Him when things are going my way, then I have a conditional love. If I only trust Him when He responds to my “magic” words, then I have reduced Him to a vending machine God; put in the right amount, say the “magic” words and out will pop your desired outcome.  That’s not a relationship.   It’s manipulation.

When I say to God...”do this and I will love you” or “don’t do this and I will not love you,” I am basing my relationship on my own immature desire to manipulate Him to get what I want.  God has never worked that way.  Not even when it would have saved Jesus’ life.  Herod wanted Jesus to perform a miracle in exchange for Jesus’ freedom.  He didn’t yield because He wanted our love to be from a genuine response to His love, not from a manipulated response based on what we might get.

And so, I am finding a deeper relationship with God, even though dad died. Even though healing didn’t occur the way I wanted.   Why?   Because I can’t blame God for all of the misery...we chose it.  WE sinned, not God.   But He commended His love towards us in this, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:8

Love only wants a genuine response.  So Love stretched out His arms and died.   To show us He loved us.  To show us that though the devil has made death to be a fearful thing, we need not fear it.  To show us that he understands even the worst of what happens to us, and yet has promised us a better day. And because of that promise, I still have something to share in the ministry. And because of that Love, I’ll stay in the ministry until that day. A day when all will be made right.   A day when we will see why things didn’t work out here.  A day for joy instead of tears.   And a day when dad will be raised up.
 

A Patch of Sunshine

“Pastor Don, it’s pouring down rain!  How are we going to paint that lady's house today?”

What do you say to a group of teens who have just posed a very pertinent question?

It was the last full day of our mission trip in the mountains of Eastern Kentucky.  The previous day we had worked on Barbara's house.  Barbara had three children she was trying to raise on her own.  Six years earlier, Barbara had returned to their small hillside shack after going to the store for her husband, only to find he had committed suicide while she was gone. 

Living had been meager since then.  It had also grown more violent.  A friend of her late husband had decided that Barbara was going to be his woman whether she wanted to be or not. Whenever he got drunk and decided that he needed a woman, he would head up to the hillside shack and break down a door, or bust a window or even tear off boards from the side of the shack and break through the inner sheetrock and then brutally rape her as her three children cowered in one of the other rooms of the small house. Repeated calls to the police yielded no results since they "didn't really see nothin' happen, so how do we know ya ain't lyin'"? These episodes were repeated about two or three times per month.

Day one, we fixed a hole in her foundation that allowed the floor to droop downward away from the wall, leaving a gaping 12—inch hole for the rats to run in and out at will.  We re-roofed her sagging, leaking roof, and fixed her chimney and stovepipe to reduce the risk of this becoming a fire hazard. We re-floored her bedroom and patched sheetrock throughout the house. We painted the inside of the house and even fixed the bare—wired electrical outlets. We worked as hard as we could, but somehow, it seemed that every time we finished one project there were two more that we still needed to do.  We decided that we would have to come back and finish the exterior the next day.  We would fix all of the holes on the exterior and broken windows and then paint the house.

I was up at 5:30 am and looked outside.  Rain.  Pouring rain. Instantly, I panicked.  How would we finish Barbara's house?  A small voice reminded me that Jesus had controlled the storm on the lake and if I would just trust, He could do it again.  I relaxed and began my personal devotions.  By the time I had finished reviewing the story in scripture, I was sure that God would work a miracle for us.  During my prayer time, I asked God for a miracle.

I stepped out of my room and headed for the kitchen. One of the staff came into the dining area and informed me that the weatherman was calling for 100% chance of rain.  So far, he was right.  But the weatherman forgot to talk to my God about it.  Each time a student asked me what we were going to do, I simply answered, "We are going to pray and ask God not to let the weather interfere with our work and then go for it." 

They gave me that look that only teenagers can give.  That look that says,  "I think you'd be better off in a straight jacket," but simply shrugged their shoulders and just said, "OK, whatever".

At the close of worship, I asked everyone to join me in a prayer session where we claimed the promise found in John 14:13,14 "And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father.  You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it."

"Lord", I prayed, "You've given us Your promise, and we believe that we are doing Your will.  Please don't let the rain interfere with our work.  May we show Your love to Barbara and her family today.  In Jesus name, Amen."

"All right, load up."  We headed out the door into the pouring rain.  The farther up the valley we drove, the harder it rained. "Um, Pastor Don," one teen ventured, "it's still raining."

Without thinking, I shot back, "We're not there yet!  He doesn't need for it to stop yet."  We drove on in silence.  Finally we turned onto the little road that led up the hillside to Barbara's little shack.  Amazingly, the higher we drove, the less it rained, until we finally turned off into her little driveway.  Just a mist now.  "All right, guys,"  I said, "God's done His part, let's do ours!"  By the time we finished unloading ladders and tools, the sun was beginning to peek out.  Our whole group was pumped!  God had performed a miracle just for us!

It was about an hour later, as I finished pounding a nail into some siding that I happened to look off the side of the mountain down to the main road that wound through the little town of Pineville, Kentucky.  It was then that I realized that we had a bigger miracle than we had at first realized.  I called the whole group together.

"Look down there.  What do you see?" I asked.  "Why, it's raining hard down there," someone exclaimed.  "Look, you can even see trucks and cars with their windshield wipers going." 

Another joined in, “Look, it’s raining so hard down there that the road almost looks white!”

"Hey guys, look over there to the left,” someone else exclaimed. 

Another yelled, “Hey, look to the right.” 

Everyone spun around to look behind us up over the mountain.  Sure enough.  Rain.  We had rain on every side!  We were under God's umbrella as we stood there in that little patch of bright sunshine looking 500 yards in every direction at the pouring rain.

John 14:13,14 "And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father.  You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it."