Feeders of the Faith

It was he who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, to prepare God's people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.  (Ephesians 4:11-13)

October is Pastor Appreciation Month, so it seems appropriate to take a moment and reflect on what it means to be a pastor, and what pastors mean to us.  Being a pastor - much like being a teacher, a nurse, a parent, and so many other things - involves much more than the title implies.  At first glance, it might seem that a pastor simply delivers a sermon on Sunday mornings, and officiates weddings and funerals when requested.  Assuming this is all that pastors do (it's not), even these things require much more planning, preparation, skill, and faith than we realize, and they are almost never performed on the nine-to-five schedule that many of us are accustomed to.  A sermon is not just a speech; it is an oratory spiritual meal for congregants.  A wedding is not just a rite or a ceremony; it is the joining of two lives in commitment to God and each other.  A funeral is not just a final farewell to the dearly departed; it is a reassurance of the risen Christ for the grieving and brokenhearted.  I've not performed any of these duties, but I have witnessed them performed many times. The words a pastor uses, and the manner in which he delivers them, have the capacity to inspire one to faith in Christ and to heal a broken heart - or not.  No pressure, right?

Of course, there are countless things that parishioners, wedding parties, and mourners never see of their pastors, among them: prayer; triaging the needs of those who enter the church building, call, or email looking for help; juggling the business aspects of keeping the doors of the church facility open; being creative while also being true to the Gospel; visiting the sick, grieving, and shut-ins of the community; fielding multiple questions, suggestions and complaints of church members; and inspiring others to service by engaging in frequent, humble service themselves.  Pastors choose a vocation that causes their every word and action to be subject to scrutiny, both from those inside the faith and from those outside the faith looking for any excuse to discredit Christianity.

What does your pastor mean to you?  The word "pastor" has the Latin root of "pastorem," meaning shepherd, and more specifically "to tend, keep, pasture, feed, guard, protect."  Among those descriptors, the one that stands out to me is the word "feed."  Christ saves, redeems, and sustains us through His life-giving blood and the gift of the Holy Spirit.  He alone is the leader of the Church.  But pastors feed our faith in word and deed.  They teach us, comfort us, hold us accountable, and inspire us to service.  Such is a calling of utmost responsibility and honor.

Thank you, Pastor Norm, Brian, Deona, Debbie, and all at Christ Church in the past, present, and future who have impacted our community (and us individually) for Christ.  We appreciate you!  Let us take a moment this month - and anytime the Spirit moves us - to thank and pray for all those in our lives who have fed our faith, whether they are ordained or not.

Walking in Obedience

And this is love: that we walk in obedience to his commands.  As you have heard from the beginning, his command is that you walk in love.  (2 John 1:6)

A while ago, I asked God to guide me and show me how I can best serve Him.  I've long known that to counsel and otherwise tend to victims of crime was my calling, and I have pursued that calling in my professional life.  But there is a longing to hone that calling in ways that intentionally expose these victims to the healing love and grace of Christ.  Only Jesus can heal the deepest of wounds, and the desire to share that truth has been impressed upon me with greater urgency of late.  So I asked God to illuminate ways in which I could satisfy that urgency in accordance with His will.

A word of caution, in case you were usure about this: God answers prayer, but not always in the way you expect.  Rarely does He choose the path of least resistance.

In addition to calling me to walk more fully in my own truth as a victim of crime, a walk that produces both pain and freedom, God has recently placed a most unusual challenge in my path that jars me out of my comfort zone.  I have a dear friend, an amazing man and elder brother in Christ, whose calling is ministering to prisoners.  For years, he has prayed with prisoners, led Bible studies among them, and taught them to read God's Word.  An untold number of prisoners have come to faith in Christ through my friend's willingness to minister to them.  We have supported each other in prayer over the years.  In the past few months, he has begun doing what has always been his greatest desire - counseling inmates on death row.  Over lunch recently, he asked me to pray specifically and frequently for a particular prisoner he is counseling, someone destined to die for a crime so horrific it turns my stomach and summons an anguish I'd rather not feel. 

My friend knows that what he is asking of me is not easy.  He knows that I've spent countless hours with hundreds of crime victims and their loved ones who have suffered the terrible impact of human cruelty, some of them on the brink of death themselves.  He knows that I have tasted that suffering myself, and it is bitter.  To honestly and purposefully pray for the salvation of one who has caused such immense suffering is a daunting request, and one never before presented to me.  As you can imagine, my friend has very few supporters, very few people in his life that agree with what he's doing or have sympathy for the importance or difficulty of it.  If I'm being honest with you, the temptation to join the ranks of those detractors is strong, and I am ever weak.

Ultimately, I cannot refuse my faithful friend's request, nor can I refuse the opportunity God has placed in my path to grow in my own faith.  If I believe in the salvation and healing power of Christ, who pulled me from the pit of my own sin and despair, how can I not pray for that same salvation and healing for a man whose days are literally numbered?  My Jesus knows no depth too deep, no sin too awful, no person too fallen.  Grace is for all who choose to believe, not just those I deem worthy.  After all, there is a scar somewhere on my Lord's precious body that has my name on it.

The lesson in all this for me is that I cannot faithfully and effectively pursue a ministry of sharing the truth and grace of Christ with anyone unless I am willing to share that truth and grace with everyone.  To withhold God's love from anyone who needs it is to deny what Jesus did for me on the cross. 

May we all walk in obedience to His love.  It's okay if it's not easy.  Obedience rarely is.

Our Own Worst Enemy

“Refusing to accept God’s love because we are unworthy – of course we’re unworthy! – is another golden calf.”  (Madeleine L’Engle)

If you consistently fail to show up for work, or the quality of your work is poor, do you get to keep your job?  If your test scores are low and you don’t turn in your papers on time, do you pass the class?  If you treat others badly long enough, do they stick by you?  Of course not, as it should be.  So, when it comes to something as important as your salvation, you’d better have all your ducks in a row.  After all, God is considerably more important and influential than your boss, your teacher, or your friend.  You’ve got to be good everywhere, all the time.  Wait…not just good, but perfect!  If you’re not, then you can’t possibly be worthy of God’s love or His saving grace.

Hmm…but there have been countless times when you haven’t been very good, let alone perfect.  In fact, you’ve been downright rotten at times, haven’t you?  (Dont worry, you're in good company).  Your list of should haves is almost as long as your list of shouldn’t haves.  Committed a crime?  Had unkind thoughts about God?  Well then, case closed!  As if that's bad enough, there’s nothing you can do about it.  Even if you are a perfect person from here on out (an awfully tall order!), you can’t go back and fix the times when you’ve messed up.  There is no way God could love you, really love you, if you’re such an incurable screw-up, right?  And there’s surely no way God would ever consider extending His gift of grace to you, right?  Why would He?

The reason it’s so difficult to accept God’s grace can be summarized in one word:  pride.  I know this all too well.  I’ve frequently questioned how or why God could possibly love and want to save a screw-up like me.  And in questioning that love, I’ve actually thought myself virtuous.  (I’m acknowledging my sinfulness and that I’m not worthy of God’s great and perfect love.  How humble I am!).  In reality, nothing could be more selfish, more arrogant, or more prideful.  Of course I’m not worthy of God’s great and perfect love.  No one is.  That is a given, yet somehow I think I have the authority and the influence to negotiate the terms of God’s love for me.  Somehow the ugly and shameful parts of my life are more significant than God’s ability to love me despite them.  What I’ve done and who I’ve been are somehow too much for the God of all creation to handle, too far beyond His vast reach, of greater significance than the cross of Christ.  So why not continue living as a victim?  Why not continue wallowing in my imperfection and adding to it in resignation?

Let this sink into the depths of you, as will I:  God’s grace cannot be earned.  We cannot make God love us or want to save us.  He simply does, more than we can fathom.  We can’t put qualifiers on God’s love for us.  His love is utterly complete and perfectly justified as is.  God created us, and what God creates He loves.  What God loves He wants to keep – not because of what we’ve done, but because of who we are to Him – His children. He sacrificed His one and only perfect Son for us because He loves us so.  We don’t have to understand it, to analyze it, or to make it fit.  All we can do is acknowledge it, accept it, and gratefully choose to live in it.

Thank you, Lord, for loving us despite ourselves!

Beauty from Ashes

"The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.  He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion - to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.  They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.  They will rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated" (Isaiah 61:1-4a)

In the arid mountain bowl of south-central Colorado lies a small town by the name of Cañon City, population just over 16,000.  In addition to its close proximity to the famous Royal Gorge, Cañon City is best known as the "prison capital of the world."  Within or just outside city limits are no less than nine state and four federal prisons or penitentiaries.  One of the prisons, Colorado Territorial Correctional Facility, is older than the state itself and another in nearby Florence houses some of America's most infamous inmates, from mobsters to terrorists.  Maybe it's because of such a unique distinction, combined with the empty, arid landscape, that Cañon City feels especially isolated, lonely and oppressed.  I'm sure many of the locals would argue that it's all about perspective - after all, I live just a few miles from two prisons next door to each other between Monroe and Lebanon, and I don't have the same feeling about my surroundings.

It was with this essence of loneliness, this burdensome, tangible aura of pain and sadness emanating from within the walls of Cañon City's many prisons, that I embarked on a two-plus hour rafting trip along the rapids of nearby Arkansas River.  Drifting through the beautiful walls of the stunning Royal Gorge, the thought of so many caged and lost souls easily faded into sun-soaked peacefulness.  But then we passed through the steepest part of the gorge, where the famous Royal Gorge Bridge towers above the river as one of the highest suspension bridges in the world.  Normally a bustling tourist destination, the bridge was eerily empty, closed due to a devastating wildfire earlier in the year that spared the bridge but destroyed most of the surrounding attractions.  The small trees, shrubs and grasses growing in the walls of the gorge had been scorched, leaving blackened skeletons dotted along our river route.  Thoughts of those prisoners returned, and of the ways in which my own life and the lives of those I love have at various points been imprisoned by sin and tragedy.

It was while my raft-mates were discussing the ravages of wildfire that I noticed it.  Beneath the charred remains of trees and shrubs were tiny bright green and purple specks, almost imperceptible to the casual passer-by.  Upon closer scrutiny, it became apparent that these specks were the shoots of new plants and wildflowers, struggling to poke their newborn heads through the surface.  The combination of dirt and ash had provided the ideal breeding ground for new growth, brilliant in color and thriving with hope and determination.  It was, as the saying goes, a God moment.

Wildfire is a part of nature's life cycle, and even if the fire is man-made, God's magnificent creation has a way of regenerating itself stronger and more vibrantly than before.  And so it is with mankind.  We experience the devastation of pain, struggle, tragedy and loss.  Some of it is a natural part of life, and some of it is man-made, caused by our own sin or the sins of others.  Like nature, we are capable of regeneration, of recovering and emerging a stronger, more vibrant instrument of God.  How?  By coming to the cross of Christ, by bearing witness to the suffering of the Lamb of God, by accepting Christ's victory over sin and death, and by allowing the Holy Spirit to consume us and guide our path.

Whether caged within prison walls in lonely Cañon City, Colorado, or chained by sin and sorrow in the suburbs, all is not lost.  Life, healing and growth are possible no matter how harsh the circumstances.  Nothing can destroy that which God has created and which lives in Him.  Nothing.  Beauty instead of ashes.  Beauty from ashes.  Praise God!

He's Got This

“Look at the nations and watch – and be utterly amazed.  For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told.”  (Habakkuk 1:5)

In a recent sit-down with my Bible, it occurred to me that there are numerous books of the Bible that I tend to routinely ignore.  I pour over the Gospels, Paul’s letters, and numerous gems in the Old Testament like Daniel, Isaiah, and Psalms.  But when it comes to books like Habakkuk, I tend to just skim right on by.  Can you relate?  How easily I forget that there’s a reason all the books of the Bible exist: it’s because God thinks they have some important things to say.  Point taken.

In its three short chapters, Habakkuk beautifully addresses one of the most common dilemmas of human existence: the crushing injustice in our world and our perception of God’s unwillingness or reluctance to intervene in a timely fashion.  In speaking of the corruption in Babylon, Habakkuk summarizes the dilemma nicely in his dialog with God:  “How long, O Lord, must I call for your help, but you do not listen?  Or cry out to you, “Violence!” but you do not save?  Why do you tolerate wrong?  Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds.  Therefore the law is paralyzed, and justice never prevails.  The wicked hem in the righteous, so that justice is perverted” (1:1-4).  I don’t know about you, but I think Habakkuk and I would have been good friends.  His words have flooded my heart and crossed my lips more times than I’d care to admit.  Have they yours?

The book of Habakkuk is less about God exercising His perfect timing and will, although His answer to Habakkuk does address it (see the verse cited at the beginning of this post).  The book is more about we the faithful resting in the knowledge that God has it under control.  He absolutely does see the injustice around us, and He absolutely does have a plan to right the wrongs.  It is up to us to trust that God knows what He’s doing, even if we don’t see His justice exercised before our own eyes as quickly as we’d like.  It could be that the enemy is allowed to swell in power and pride so that his eventual fall will be harder and more complete than it would otherwise.  In the meantime, our patience and trust in God strengthens our faith and solidifies our hope.  As Habakkuk concludes, “Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines…yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior” (3:17-18).

All too often, our world is cruel and full of violence and corruption.  True faith and abiding joy is realized when we trust God to address the injustice in His perfect way, in His perfect time.  It’s a good reminder today and always.

And to think how many times I've skipped past Habakkuk…

Where the Road Ends

If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.  (2 Chronicles 7:14)

There are some people who get lost while driving and calmly navigate their way back to familiar territory while taking the time to enjoy the unexpected view.  I’m not one of those people.  I fall into the panicked, sick-to-my-stomach group of folks for whom being lost (especially while alone) is all but intolerable.  Even with the benefit of GPS, all I can think about is finding familiar ground, and when I do, the sense of relief is tangible.

It’s easy to recognize when we lose our way on the road, but it’s not always so easy to recognize when we’ve lost our way in life.  It tends to happen more slowly in life, one poor decision and circumstance at a time.  Things snowball and before we know it, we’re miserable and we can’t seem to figure out why.

There are two women with whom I once shared a wonderful friendship, but a couple of years ago, I destroyed that friendship by choosing to engage in hateful gossip about them that had nothing to do with me, and which made a difficult situation for them much worse.  I felt completely justified in my sinfulness at the time, not recognizing how lost I was.  I prayed about it, and thankfully, God reminded me that my internal compass was stuck.  The GPS of my soul kept saying in that disappointing, nasally voice, “recalculating route,” until I finally oriented myself in the right direction.  I reached out to these two women, sincerely apologized, and showed them some long-overdue compassion.  It was difficult and awkward, but it was needed.  They responded more graciously than I could have hoped, and one of the women just last weekend emailed me to say she is sleeping better now that she has in years.  Praise God.

When it came to my salvation and my faith in Christ, God relentlessly pursued me until I finally stopped running.  And still today, He pursues me whenever I errantly choose to run circles around His love, rather than living in it.  The key is in learning not to run.  When someone runs from the police in crime shows on TV, it means he has something to hide.  It also means he’s making life much more difficult for himself that it needs to be.  The same applies to our relationship with God.  If we feel the need to run from Him for any reason, then it means our compass is pointing us in the wrong direction.

There are many detours and adventures on the road of life.  Sometimes it’s smooth sailing, sometimes we hit some potholes, and sometimes we choose to ignore warning signs meant to guide and protect us.  No matter what road you’re on right now, just remember one thing: there are no dead-ends with God.  We are never truly lost if we remember that all roads lead back to Him.

(In)Dependence

Live as free men, but do not use your freedom as a cover-up for evil; live as servants of God.  (1 Peter 2:16)

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.  (Representatives of the United States of America, July 4, 1776)

This week, we will celebrate the ultimate of American holidays, Independence Day.  Flags will wave with pride, fireworks will burst with brilliant color, and friends and relatives will gather for good food, pool parties, and laughs.  It's good to be free, to live in a nation that believes in and fights for democracy and individual freedom.  The Declaration of Independence is a magnificent document outlining all the reasons why the American colonists should officially break free from the oppressive Kingdom of England.  Not only is the document logical and concise, but the language is stunningly eloquent.  I can only imagine the electricity in the air when the Declaration was being crafted and ultimately signed.

Long before our Founding Fathers declared us a free nation, God provided us with a clear path to ultimate freedom - no matter our country of residence.  The life, death, and resurrection of Christ provides us a freedom unlike anything any nation could declare, fight for, or secure.  What makes God's freedom unique is that it is not based on independence, but rather dependence - on Him.  We've been granted free will to embrace or to deny the truth of Jesus Christ.  Those who deny the truth of Christ believe themselves to be fiercly independent, to be the masters of their own lives and everything in them.  Those who embrace the truth of Christ, however, find freedom in being totally and completely dependent upon God.  By surrendering every aspect of our lives to Christ, we realize an unparalleled freedom.

Life, Liberty, and Happiness.  Those words were capitalized by the Founding Fathers when they wrote the Declaration, and I'm certain it was not by accident.  All of life comes from the Creator, true liberty comes from surrender to Christ, and happiness comes from the realization that in Christ, we find complete fulfillment.  It is in being a servant of God that we find true freedom.

As the saying goes, with freedom comes responsibility.  We do not choose to be servants of God because it's a cool, get out of jail free, feel-good way of life.  On the contrary, we choose to be servants of God because He is the Way, the Truth and Life.  He created us to serve Him, which undeniably exposes us to danger and to persecution.  We serve Him because it is our greatest honor and privilege to glorify God with our whole lives.  It is dependence on Him that we strive for in our quest for freedom.

We are one nation under God.  This Independence Day, as we pledge allegiance to the flag, let us also renew our allegiance to the Creator.  Let us make a Declaration of Dependence on our Lord and Savior July 4th and always.  Life, Liberty, and Happiness are ours to enjoy in Christ.