Wednesday, July 27, 2016
It’s a valid question. In this case, the answer was "yes," but the truth is, there are many who teach in churches and universities who, for all their degrees, have never learned to communicate the simple truths of their discipline. They can throw some Greek at you, but you have no idea what they are talking about most of the time. They can tell you all about the Hebrew verbs in a passage, but then they wander down a rabbit trail that has nothing to do with the text, and you are lost. Some speak about their subjects in a way that sends their audience into a deep sleep. I even heard about one professor who fell asleep himself while he was lecturing. Standing at the chalkboard, talking to his college class, the man actually nodded off while leaning against the wall. David Garrick, the great 18th century actor, was asked why he could so mightily move men by fiction, while preachers, speaking such momentous truths, left them unmoved. He replied, "They speak truth as though it were fiction, while I speak fiction as though it were truth." If a man speaks the truths of the Word of God as though they were fiction, then he may as well be speaking in another language to his audience, without an interpreter. It will have the same effect.
Some have passion for what they speak about, but they are even more impressed with themselves … and that is what is communicated most clearly. To paraphrase Charles Spurgeon, “He who makes much of himself makes very little of God.”
Others have a passion for their subject, but they refuse to put the cookies on the lower shelf. Their vocabulary is impressive but a stumbling block. For example, how many of you would know what is meant by this quote? “Avian bipeds whose plumage can be demonstrated to have reasonable similitude display a tendency to congregate in groupings of some magnitude.” Huh? I don’t think they had avian bipeds where I grew up. Actually, they did, and the quote simply put means, “Birds of a feather flock together.” How about this? “Male cadavers are incapable of yielding any testimony.” Maybe you can wade through that one and come up with the answer, “Dead men tell no tales.” But I bet you never heard your Mama say this to you when you were growing up: “Freedom from incrustations of grime is contiguous to rectitude.” Not if she was from around these parts, anyway. But she might have said it in English: “Cleanliness is next to godliness.” My personal favorite, however is this one: “Scintillate, scintillate, asteroid minifid!”
Ponder on it for a minute. But in the meantime, let me remind you that it was Jesus who said, just as plain as could be, “Unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven.”
That’s a truth as simple to understand as “Twinkle, twinkle, little star!”
Monday, July 18, 2016
“Let us first and unequivocally say every human life is precious and valuable because it bears the very image of God. C.S. Lewis wrote in 'The Weight of Glory,' ‘You’ve never met a mere mortal… Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit.’
Let’s also say that (last) week’s events are a surface explosion of issues long present in our society. We’re not OK, folks, and we haven’t been in quite a while. These horrible events are not creating unrest; rather they are revealing it. Our society is weak in its middle — at the “social glue” level of local communities and civil society. And, we have a race problem. We might disagree on why, but it won’t do us any good to say it doesn’t exist. Here we are — and there’s no way out of this except by confronting it.
Third, and most important, let us proclaim, “Christ has risen!” It is true about this moment as it is about every other moment of history — good or bad.
And now, Christian, what might we do?
First, pray. I am praying for Christians tasked with talking about this to colleagues, families and neighbors on Monday. I am praying we will be Gospel-shaped in our words and tone. But mostly, I pray today for mercy using ancient, tried, and tested words: Lord, have mercy on us.
Second, we can, in the words of the Apostle James, be quick to listen and slow to speak, particularly to those with whom we agree on the Gospel, but differ in experiences as citizens.
Third, we can focus efforts on rebuilding those institutions able to address the problems we face. Government has a role, but the state cannot lead us in reconciliation, virtue formation, or trust building. God has uniquely equipped the home and the church for those tasks.
It looks bleak, but we worship the same Christ whose Gospel has brought healing to post-adultery marriages, post-riot cities, even post-genocide Rwanda. It can here, too. There is, in fact, no other place to look."
You and I may not be able to break down the mistrust that exists among the races, or the social classes, or the political parties. But you and I can choose to be a part of the solution by praying for our neighbors, believing that the same power God used to raise Christ from the dead can change our city. But don’t stop with prayer. You and I can choose to be a part of the solution by crossing the street to have a conversation, to build a relationship, to offer a cup of cold water in Jesus’ name.
Monday, July 11, 2016
Not to God. And not to the devil. Tom Sawyer told his Aunt Polly that the devil made him do the bad things he did. Flip Wilson made that a punch line in the 1970s. "The devil made me do it!" But there is nothing funny about the devil. He comes to steal, kill and destroy. However, though he may suggest a lie to us, as he did to Eve in the garden, he cannot make us sin. J.A. Bengel said, "Even the suggestions of the devil do not occasion danger before they are made our own."
He can bait the hook, but we have to take the bait, and when we do, it is always because of our own evil hearts. This often surprises us in ourselves or others. A young priest was listening to confessions for the first time, accompanied by an older priest. At the end of the day, the older priest pulled him aside and said, "My son, when a person finishes his confession, you have got to learn to say something other than, 'Wow.'"
The Bible uses a fishing metaphor to describe how temptations can pull us away from a safe place. We are tempted when we are "lured and enticed by our own desires." I was watching my sons fish a few days ago, and I noticed that no one was throwing out an empty hook, thinking that a fish would be stupid enough to throw himself on it and be reeled in, you know, just for fun. No, the lures they were using looked just like food to the fish, which is a God-given desire. Fish like food. God made them, and us, that way. But when a fish takes the bait, it is hooked and dragged out of safety and to a place that is decidedly not safe. It is the same for you and me.
When we are hooked and dragged away, caught in a trap that works because of our own desires, it often carries a very high price. And it is true that our desires are not always evil, but the ways we fulfill those desires can be dangerous and destructive. A desire to be loved leads many young girls in dangerous places. A desire for sexual gratification leads many young men astray. A desire to eat and enjoy food or drink can lead us to gluttony or drunkenness. We have a golden retriever who loses her mind when a thunderstorm comes. We have a perfectly safe place she can hide in our garage, but her desire to escape the storm completely has convinced her she needs to be inside the house, which has led to the near destruction of our storm door.
What to do about temptations? Here is another plain truth and main truth in the Bible: "No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it." That is a verse to believe, memorize, and live. We can never say, "I couldn't help it."
There will always be a way of escape. It’s our choice whether to take it or not.
Tuesday, July 5, 2016
I headed home to collect my specs. I slowed down just a little at the stop sign that someone put there to test my skills at crossing from Nana’s road to our road without having to tap the brakes more than once.
Driving along, singing a song, and then I saw it. A blur of blue in my rear view. I couldn’t really tell what it was, but I figured it wasn’t the northern lights, so I pulled over. Seconds later, a sheriff’s deputy appeared at my door and I began to shake. I saw that his mouth was moving but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. My window! I rolled it down quickly and he said something again, but my ears had temporarily stopped working. He said it a third time, forcefully: “Get out of the car, sir!” I got out, half expecting him to slap some cuffs on me and drag me off to jail, since I had just had a wreck a few weeks earlier, a wreck that was my fault.
The sheriff’s deputy was asking me another question, and I didn’t answer because, once again, my head was ringing and my ears were refusing to work. The officer was beginning to think I was mute. And maybe blind. My glasses! He was asking about my glasses and why I wasn’t wearing them, and according to my license I was required by law to wear them. Did I know that I had run a stop sign back there, and did I know that I could be cited for driving without a license, and did I know that I had nearly run a car off the road? And suddenly I was in a time warp, and my first grade teacher was saying, “Mark, did you know that it was wrong to hit Kip in the head?”
I was finally able to speak and the sheriff’s deputy kindly served God’s purposes by giving me a ticket. I said “Yes, sir,” as he explained the consequences of my actions, and I said “Yes, sir,” as the DMV revoked my license for 60 days, and I said, “Yes, sir” as I paid my fine for running a stop sign.
The Bible says, “we are to grow up in every way, into Him who is the head.” I am thankful that the God who owns the universe governs my life. I can try to run from him, but I can never hide.
He loves me too much to let me do that.