Category Archives: Grace

Counterfeit Grace

Just felt I should share what I posted on Twitter today.

It needs to be said.

@Pasturescott: Be wary of those who are all about grace and not accountability. They haven’t received a revelation of God’s brand, only a cheap knock-off.

This addresses one of the more subtle deceptions snaking through the church in these last days. Shamefully, multitudes are drinking the purple kool-aid because it goes down smoothly and appeals to old Adam’s proclivities.

If we believers are not still accountable to God, then we’re right back in the Garden, fruit in hand, feeling good about ourselves and our chances.

Hashtag: “God have mercy!”

This has happened because, for generations now, the Gospel has been tampered with, tweaked, muddied and dumbed down. It’s been reduced to a formulaic cover-all prayer and a me-centered narrative rather than a lifelong grace-empowered surrender that forsakes all – even our own self – but Jesus.

On a related note, when I fail to forsake my own way and know that I’ve grieved the Holy Spirit, I take to heart the blessed truth of 1 John 1:9 – which is graciously for me! – and repent to Him, find mercy even for my egregious oversights, and fall ever more deeply in love with God who saves, keeps and covers me. And changes me. With genuine grace.

Now I can get into and embrace that brand of grace!

Christmas Love

I’m grateful to the Writing Sisters for posting this on their blog. It’s just too good not to share! So, hat tip to them…and kudos to Sharon Jaynes for such a creative rendering…

 1 Corinthians 13 Christmas Style

©By Sharon Jaynes

 If I decorate my house perfectly with lovely plaid bows, strands of twinkling lights, and shiny glass balls, but do not show love to my family – I’m just another decorator.

If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas cookies, preparing gourmet meals, and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime, but do not show love to my family – I’m just another cook.

If I work at the soup kitchen, carol in the nursing home, and give all that I have to charity, but do not show love to my family – it profits me nothing.

If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels and crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday parties, and sing in the choir’s cantata but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point.

Love stops the cooking to hug the child.

Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the husband.

Love is kind, though harried and tired.

Love doesn’t envy another home that has coordinated Christmas china and table linens.

Love doesn’t yell at the kids to get out of your way.

Love doesn’t give only to those who are able to give in return, but rejoices in giving to those who can’t.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things.

Love never fails.  Video games will break; pearl necklaces will be lost; golf clubs will rust.  But giving the gift of love will endure.

– From http://www.sharonjaynes.com

Favor

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“Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” Luke 1:30

We throw ‘favor’ around the way many refer to as a run of good luck.

“So much good is going on in my life right now. I’m really walking in favor…”

But there’s a side of favor I’ll bet you haven’t considered.

I once heard about a young teen-aged girl, no more than thirteen, maybe fourteen at most, who had a chance-of-a-lifetime encounter with a very powerful and famous individual. Her name was Miriam, but most knew her as Mary. The night visitor told her he was sent on a mission by God Himself and came to her because His Master found her favorable and wanted to bless her.

Actually, He wanted to rock her world.

That was the curious word he used. He said the Almighty “favored” her. So…how does one reconcile the two: you are so favored, I’m going to scandalize your life?

Unmarried but preggers. Then you can’t tell people the baby inside you is the Son of God. And even if you could, you’d have your ticket punched for a one-way trip to an asylum. Or exiled. Or stoned.

This is favor?

I mean, Noah, too, was favored and God said I’m going to save your life, but first you have to spend the next hundred years building a boat in the desert. Joseph was favored as well, but his price of admission was to be sold off as a slave, go through the mother of all set-ups, then be forgotten – not once, but two times – in an Egyptian hell hole where he would spend nearly half his life.

You call this “favor”?

If young Mary’s life teaches anything, it schools us with the truth that favor is often accompanied by challenge. It requires a submissive response, a costly sacrifice, an abiding amen. Stuff you don’t learn on a chalkboard.

And Mary said, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.”
Luke 1:38

Favor removes you from your present condition and sets you on an epic journey. It takes you higher, but there is always either persecution or great trial – or both – linked to it.

Sort of like: You’ve been chosen…this is your glorious (and perilous!) mission should you choose to accept it…

Well sign me up!

All things must change to something new, to something strange.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Favor also signals a transition. Note Mary’s “from now on” in her Magnificat:

“My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.
For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for he who is mighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.”
Luke 1:46-49

The little girl’s world has just been rocked like a cradle and she responds by bursting into song! She’s grown-up enough to know that when she wakes up in the morning the Son will be in a new place: her belly. You can’t make this stuff up.

Yes, “favor” is code for challenge. It’s calling card is upheaval. And it is spelled c-o-s-t-l-y. But take it from a girl who grew up overnight: Favor always leads us into a new measure of glory.

You’ve heard about the three-legged dog with one blind eye and a bad case of mange, answers to Lucky?

I was reflecting on my own pitiful self recently: teeth discolored from ingesting years and gallons of antibiotics, eyes blurred from other meds and hair falling out from still other super-drugs. Back hurts all the time, scars like ropes around my body, can’t walk. Ah, poor creature!

Even still, I know who I am: I am highly favored. I am His. I am chosen. I am blessed. I am eternal, going from glory to glory.

Not lucky, not by a long shot.

And that suits me just fine.

______________________________________________

FOR DISCUSSION: does the above post make you want to think twice before asking for God’s favor in your life?

We Three Writers

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It’s been my absolute joy to speak into and invest in the lives of three of the finest young man I’ve ever been around. These three fellows and I have been meeting together around God’s word for the last year-plus, and in one of our gatherings a few months ago I asked each to write a mini-essay based on a random topic that I would give them. I merely handed them titles and gave them the assignment to give to it their own words. I also promised to post their interpretations to my blog.

So, without any further delay, here’s Nathan, Rick, and John using the power of electronic print – with only minor editing on my part (I think I added one punctuation mark) – to shed greater light on some pretty pointed subjects.

Trivial Pursuits
Nathan

​Spoiler Alert: This author is definitely guilty of what is mentioned here!

​How much of our time and focus is spent on trivial matters in life? Really, take some time and think about it. We are all guilty; myself included. Triviality is a state that has affected the human race, especially God’s people, for countless millennia. If we want a self-contained example, we need look no further than the ancient Israelites that we study throughout the Bible. Time after time we are reminded of how much of a “space-case” these people were. God was there constantly trying to get their attention focuses back on Him, and they would not budge. Judges is all about the people running after the distractions of the pagan gods that were prevalent amongst the native peoples. Every major instance in that book has God intervening in some major way, only for the people to lose focus not long after.

​The triviality continued in Israel from the latter years of Solomon and all the way until the fall of Jerusalem in 586 B.C. as we see in several Biblical accounts. I have been recently reading through all of the Major Prophets in the OT, and we really get an idea of how trivial the people’s focus had become. Even though there were several times when you would think God’s patience would run out, He never wavered (never has, never will). Wavering is not a word in His vocabulary. We just need to accept that fact, even though it seems so hard to do. Again, I am guilty of this.

We also get a constant reminder of His grace and mercy throughout all of the words given to the prophets. There was a light at the end of the tunnel, and there still is. This may have been an extremely brief look back at history, but I believe that we need to see Israel as an example for ourselves. Take a look at our country for an example. We have truly lost focus on what is really important, and that is putting God first. For years, some have argued that the country never had its focus on God in the first place (we are looking at you Deists). I believe now more than ever, that we need to turn our focus on God. Not just as a country, but a church too. Something is not right, and has not been for a while. We have gotten lost in ourselves and our own incessant trivialities. There is so much of a parallel that exists between us now and with ancient Israel. Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, etc… all give us examples that sound too familiar to many situations we now face. Maybe I am reading a little more into the text than I should, but it is too eerily similar to ignore. Dig into the text and see for yourself, if you haven’t already. We need to get our act together! It is of the utmost imperative. I believe that it needs to start with the church! We have gotten too complacent and caught up in our own trivialities. Poor public examples of our faith have tainted our reputation, and reputation is a hard thing to rebuild. Where do we go from here? I am not sure. What I am sure of is that we need to get rid of triviality and focus on God.

Paraphrase of 1 Corinthians 13
Rick

Paul’s letter to the church of Corinth.

This specific chapter is over what many would call the eighth wonder of the world: Love

The first half of this chapter is solely about faith without love. It really is impossible.

​If I speak in the tongues (Or languages) of men and angels, if I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have faith that can move mountains; if I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I am worthless noise. I am nothing. I gain nothing.

It isn’t about us, but it is for us.

​Love is patient, kind, without envy, without pride or boast. Love is not rude, not self-seeking, not easily angered, and never keeps a record of wrong. Love rejoices with the truth and never delights in evil. Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres. It never fails. Love never fails.

​In a world that confuses love for lust, we find out that in this passage that Love is accurately for others.

​Lust is seeking after what one can get out of the other. Love is seeking out not only what one could do for the other, but also what one could do to uplift and encourage the other.

Many things will fade in this world, as most know. But in and after verse eight of chapter thirteen; Paul speaks on many great spiritual gifts that will, in time, fade.

Our minds are limited.

​He speaks of the great day that Christ comes back, where we will know fully and see imperfection depart and complete perfection arrive.

When we are born again, we search the Word for truth and for our way of life. We seek to put the old behind, and the new ahead. (Philippians 3:13)

Christ is our new, and our chains are our past. When we grow spiritually, we learn through the Word, how to release our bad qualities and gain righteousness (John 3:20-21); we begin to live as Christ, as we put childish things behind us. Although now, it is difficult to live for someone we have never seen physically, but to read His word and pray constantly is how we hear Him and get closer to Him. Now, we only get to see Him in a poor reflection, within us! Now, we only know little. But when our Savior comes back, we shall know fully. We will see Him face to face.

Jesus tells us the most important of all things, is to Love one another in brotherly love. May we be a family! He speaks through Paul stating that though Faith and Hope are amazingly needed things, Love is the greatest. In waiting for our God, He gives us Faith, He gives us Hope, and He gives us Love.

Everyone loves the black suit
John

What does the “black suit” represent?

When you think of spiderman’s black venom suit, what comes to mind? Power? Beauty? Strength? Cool? I think of all of these terms. But doesn’t the black suit bring out the greed, the selfishness, the hate, and the love of power in Spiderman? The answer is yes, it does bring forth all of these attributes. Why do we like the black suit then? I believe that it captures sin in its truest form. It produces nothing but sour fruit. The thing is, the fruit looks so tasty and tantalizing to us until we partake of it and recognize it as sin. The suit symbolizes the very picture that the enemy paints for us. The picture is painted with the greatest care with its only purpose designed to consume every part of your interest. The enemy knows your weaknesses and your very desires. It takes very little effort for him to construe a masterpiece and place it right in front of our faces for us to buy. Sin is like a good deal on craigslist; it is so easy to say yes, but it takes some serious effort to say no. This is why we love the black suit. It is so easy to wear, but it is so hard to take off. It feels so good, it feels so natural, and it fits like a good pair of jeans. Why? Because this “black suit” didn’t come out of nowhere one day and present itself to us. We were born wearing it. It is intertwined in the very fiber that makes up our very being. Sound depressing? Ya, a little bit. But the other side of this whole “black suit” dilemma is that there is this guy who wants to help us take it off. This guy’s name is Jesus! He wants to peel this suit off layer by layer. He started this mission when he took on, no, when he became the black suit on the cross and died for us all. His blood works like Clorox. You put your black suit in the washer, add his blood, and he washes it white as snow! That blows my mind! His blood is infinite and does not run out after 182 fl oz. No matter how many times you mess up, no matter how many times you lean on your own understanding, and no matter how many times we put another layer of the suit on.. he is always there waiting on us, arms open wide! That is the best part of this side of the story. You don’t have to do anything; he has already done it!

This is my story, this is my psalm…

Thirty-one October 2nd’s have now gone by since the accident that put me in a wheelchair. I cringe whenever I reference it as an “accident” as it was anything but. However, human nature being what it is, we like to classify things in terms we can wrap our heads around. To say my fall from a cliff while 17 other people stood as witnesses was happenstance is a miscarriage of truth. The truth is, God – Jehovah-shammah – was there.

And He was actively involved.

He didn’t enter the scene in the aftermath, like an EMT, but was overseeing and overruling the event as it unfolded. Try and wrap your head around that, why doncha?

Did He, then, shove me off the precipice?

Or did He stand aside and let it happen?

I know how we quantify His ways often by saying God “allows” things but doesn’t cause such things. I’ve said it often myself – and on most levels I believe in His permissive will. But we say it like it’s almost a passive will, that He looks at the evil that comes against us and says, “I wish I could stop you but my hands are tied.”

Okay, okay, yes He chooses to tie His hands as He did when His Son was being tortured and brutalized. That’s not my point. I somehow (somehow?) believe that evil set its design upon me 31 Octobers ago and asked for a warrant from the Judge of the Highest Court to tamper with me. The Almighty said, “Proceed” but did something far greater than step aside and let it happen.

He was there.

I said God was actively involved and I believe this is how: Isaiah the prophet encouraged the people of God with the promise,

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. – Isaiah 43:2-3

He told them the LORD would “uphold them with His right hand” (41:10) and I, personally, have been struck by the words I have long since felt the psalmist wrote just for me:

The steps of a man are established by the LORD, when he delights in his way; though he fall, he shall not be cast headlong, for the LORD upholds his hand. – Psalm 37:23-24

When the Almighty granted permission for my, shall we say, incident, I believe He added the caveat: “devil, you cannot kill him, cause any brain injury or completely sever his spinal cord. You may make My child a paraplegic, but no worse!”

I then believe God dispatched His angel-ministers to make certain His legislations were carried out.

If you interviewed many of the eighteen college friends that were gathered at Fort Bluff in Dayton, Tennessee that night, more than a few would probably say that over all, prior to my headlong jettison from that bluff (a height of barely 20 feet, thank the Lord), the night was memorable for all the right reasons: the mild temps, sunset over the Pocket Wilderness, the perfectly cooked steaks, the meaningful conversation, etc.

And yet…and yet…

Nothing anyone could up to that point put their finger on, but something felt…well…cockeyed.

What we couldn’t see in those hours between arrival, setting up camp, cooking and eating and cleanup, then the ambulance carting me away, was the open hostility in the heavenlies, where angels and demons stood their ground, the enemy determined to kill me and the heavenly beings determined to not let him.

God was anything but passive. Far from giving the devils free reign and making me open game, He was present and presiding and, as my body tumbled over the edge of that old rugged bluff, He did for me what He didn’t (by choice) do for His only begotten Son – intervene. Aren’t you deliriously joyful that there will never, ever be another son or daughter of God’s for which He will never intervene ever again? That He will always be present in our sufferings and afflictions?

They found me waking from unconsciousness with my head perched on a stone, however, the only mark on my head was a gash above my left eye where a scar still remains. My head wasn’t split open, my brain wasn’t damaged. I wasn’t a quadriplegic. My spinal cord wasn’t severed (although the enemy did everything to it just short of). And I wasn’t dead.

Thirty-one October 2nd’s later and I’m very much alive, with a quality and purpose of life I delight in, the Father is glorified in, and the devil despises (which is just fine with me). To His grace and glory, I’ve never come close to cursing God and taking my life. Every day I awaken I’m acutely aware of something I never much paid attention to those 21 years I lived on healthy legs: the strong Hand of God – His right Hand, He says – holding me up, carrying me when I require it, and hastening me on for another go. Every day, every season, every mile…until I am perfect – just like the One who made me.

“THOUGH HE FALL,
(I) SHALL NOT BE CAST HEADLONG
FOR THE LORD UPHOLDS (MY) HAND.”

Here’s A Cut-Through

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Luke 1:78-79
“…because of the tender mercy of our God,
whereby the Sunrise shall visit us from on high
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the Way of peace.”

John 14:6
“I Am the Way…”

_____________________________________________________________

There’s a story, often credited to E. Stanley Jones, about a missionary who gets lost in the jungle. He comes upon a village in the middle of the trees, and asks a resident to lead him out. The local agrees, and for an hour he walks ahead of the missionary, clearing a way through the foliage with a machete.

Eventually the missionary asks, “Are you sure we are going the right way? Isn’t there a path somewhere?” The villager smiles. “Friend, I am the path.”

There is a way, we are told, that seems right…but is always a dead end.*

Don’t walk in the treacherous realm of “seems” today. Everyone is looking for a short-cut when life’s greatest quest can only be encountered as a cut-through. Find Him who is the sure path, and you will walk on the heights.
___________________________

*Prov 16:25

2 Chronicles 7:14 Is Not America, It’s Me

Sorry to disappoint you, but God is calling out of the earth a new race of men and women, not reformed Americans. Not cleaned-up Europeans. Not re-cast Homo-sapiens. There is no immigration into glory.

From beginning the Lord has predestined Homo-nuvos as His eternal habitation. A whole new breed of men and women (see 1 Peter 1:14-18; 2:10).

As many as believed (participle in Greek) on Him, to them He gave the distinction to become

…sons and daughters…

…OF GOD.

A divine race, legal citizens of the Kingdom who are deemed heavenly, not earthly (see 1 Corinthians 15:48,49).

People like this:

I’m looking for a people who I can trust to do My will with purity of heart. They are a people totally dedicated and consecrated to My purposes, who will rise above the flesh and the things of the world to truly walk in the Spirit. They have their ears attuned to My voice, and they follow carefully every directive without selfish pride or personal motive or need for approval. I am looking for a people who will be the people called by My name, says the Lord.

I once read about a young, newly converted shoe salesman who happened to share a park bench with a renowned evangelist. The elder man of God mused: “the world has yet to see what God can do with and for and through and in and by a man who is completely dedicated to Him.”

Later that day, those words still ringing in his spiritual ears, the young man found a private place to bow and offer himself wholly “out and out” to the Lord. Whatever. However. Whenever.

Young D.L. Moody rose from his knees with this sacred vow burning in his heart and on his tongue:

“by the grace of God I’ll be that man.”

That’s who I am.

That’s what I claim.

That’s what I am made for.

All because He called, I repented of my Adam nature, and now I’m becoming.

That man.

That brand new man.

Ever in His grace.

The Kingdom of God Is Like A Game Of Catch

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Great thoughts from Carolyn Arends in her pleasantly moving book, “Theology In Aisle Seven”:

I suspect I have sometimes unconsciously used spiritual disciplines as smoke signals to get God’s attention. Now I am learning that they are simply ways of letting him capture mine…

…The other day I was trying to describe this shift in my understanding to my friend Roy Salmond. He ran to pull out an article he’d read in Time magazine more than a decade ago. It’s an eloquent piece called “The Game of Catch,” by Roger Rosenblatt, about baseball, parenthood, and the wordless communication between a father and son tossing the ball around. While the article is in no way religious, one thought in particular has permanently changed Roy’s view of life with God.

“They do not call it a game of throw,” Roy quoted, grinning. “They call it catch.”

Oddly enough, I understood exactly what he meant. Spiritually speaking, I’ve been preoccupied with throwing the ball; this turns out to be a case in which it would be better to receive than to give.

God is the initiator. We love because he first loved us. We’re here because he thought of us and welcomed us into his world. Yes, he stands at the doors to our hearts and knocks, but we need only let him in. We don’t have to summon him from another country or galaxy. The kingdom of God is already near.

Repent. It’s time to play catch.

Profiling Love

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I wonder if the FBI has ever done a profile on this “man”? I would think the TSA would let him pass through untouched.

I’m especially intrigued by the last line.

He who has love will be a gentleman though he be untaught in social graces. He will be a diplomat out of consideration for others and not for personal advantage. He will labor happily though unremunerated and sacrifice personal comfort without protest or complaint. He will measure happiness by his power to give and weakness by his limitation to bring comfort to those in need.

Frances J. Roberts, Make Haste My Beloved

Easter Needs The Gospel

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First off, go ahead and feed your kiddies all the chocolate bunnies and jelly beans their tummies can, um, stomach.

Color those eggs with the wee ones. Hide them in the tall grasses. The eggs, not the children.

I’m not here to pull the plug on all peeps, cadburies and patent leather shoes. If your kids know that all of it is just a side-show to the Main Attraction, have at it.

For me, I don’t much care for the word “Easter” anymore. I’ve dug through some pretty distasteful records of history that show how that celebration came to us and, frankly, it gives me pause. Or a heartache.

I stopped saying “Happy Easter!” years ago. And now I must tell you why. Excuse me while I pull on my history professor’s tweed jacket, complete with those trendy elbow patches. And now while I make my voice sound more professorial.

(clearing throat)

Ok, then.

Our story begins not long after the dawn of human history. Nimrod, evil grandson of Noah, built a temple-tower called Babel in the plains of Shinar, the birthplace of Babylon. Ancient texts tell us he married his female counterpart, a vile woman named Semerimus. Together, they bore a son, Tammuz, whom they claimed to be the divine Child of God.

Semerimus instituted the first in a long line of “mother-child” religions where she was worshipped as the “Queen of Heaven” and son as the “Divine One.” You see, Satan was already setting the stage to obscure the arrival of the True Divine King, Messiah. In Phoenicia, it was Ashteroth and Tammuz. In Egypt, Isis and Horus. In Greece, Aphrodite and Eros. In Rome, Venus and Cupid.

Fact soon gave way to fantasy and, as the story goes, Tammuz went hunting one day and was horrifically killed by a bear. Forty days later, he miraculously rose from the dead! To commemorate this event, temple virgins would fast and weep 40 days (see Ezekiel 8:14) which led to a great feast called ‘Ishtar’ where colored eggs were exchanged as a symbol of fertility.

A risen-from-the-dead deity.

Colored eggs.

Ishtar. Eas-ter.

This little history lesson is not intended to be a rant against Christians who do the dog and pony show of Easter, but a reminder that it was prodigals who thought the whole idea up, and God came to save prodigals. Prodigals mythologized a faux immaculate conception, a would-be heavenly son and fabled a resurrection, but we have all the factual nothing-made-up reality in Christ, hallelujah!

Satan wanted one-upmanship. He thought he’d do an endaround on the Godhead (remember the Lamb was slain before the foundation of the world) and get the world to fall at the feet of an antithesis Christ – one who wouldn’t crush his head! (Gen 3:14,15)

Ah, but that’s not what old slewfoot got. What he got was humiliated, trounced, crushed and defeated!

Christ has utterly wiped out the damning evidence of broken laws and commandments which always hung over our heads, and has completely annulled it by nailing it over his own head on the cross. And then having drawn the sting of all the powers ranged against us, he exposed them, shattered, empty and defeated, in his final glorious triumphant act!
- Paul, Colossians 2, JBP

The evil one’s lair was raided by the Stronger Man, Jesus, and the grave’s captives, long held despairingly and hopelessly in chains and leg irons, became a long procession of gloriously redeemed souls, the most awe-inspiring parade you ever saw! Far more beautiful, even, than a field of colored eggs or a church filled with frilly dresses!

Thanks be to God who leads us, wherever we are, on his own triumphant way and makes our knowledge of him spread throughout the world like a lovely perfume! We Christians have the unmistakeable “scent” of Christ, discernible alike to those who are being saved and to those who are heading for death. To the latter it seems like the very smell of doom, to the former it has the fresh fragrance of life itself.
- Paul, 2 Corinthians 2, JBP

Easter came to us via prodigal lore, all wrapped and dyed to keep our focus on things that lead to death, but Jesus came to set the record straight. Which version will your celebration reflect?

Happy Resurrection Day! (The real one.)

 

The Third Verse

I was in a conversation with a friend this week. I asked my friend, “If your life is a song, what verse are you on at this point of your life?”

My friend said, “I’m probably on the third verse.”

Then explained, “The first verse usually gives the overall concept of the song’s meaning. The second verse will give more meaning, makes it more personal, and the last verse pretty much wraps it all up.”

“The third verse,” I said, intrigued. “Huh.”

And then a thought popped into my head. In the denomination I belonged to growing up, we didn’t have worship leaders, we had “song leaders” or “music directors”.

Invariably – perhaps because they were trained at the same music schools? – each would have the audience – sorry, congregation – stand at different intervals, these usually being the opening two hymns (that’s with a ‘ymn’ for the young crowd – these were lines of songs with strange symbols above and below) and the song right after announcements, then once more after the offering. Then lastly, during the invitation. This could last as long as the sermon, only ending when someone finally came forward.

As though it were a canonized statement, each song leader would announce the ‘standing’ hymn with the words, “Please rise and sing the first, second, and last stanzas (not verses) of song number 362 in your hymnals (hardback books containing numbered hymns)…”

Never the third verse. That one got skipped.

Who knows why?

Back to my friend: I was hearing that they were at an unsung, forgotten season of their life. What their life was saying was just not important enough for others to notice. Though they had a lot to offer, they just weren’t getting their just due.

At least that’s what I heard.

It’s been my joy to preach a mini-series at my home fellowship on “endurance” these three weeks. It came as no surprise that the passage God gave me is the scripture that got me through my nine weeks of hospitalization, three surgeries, two separate trips to ICU, and coding on my hospital bed. Through everything, God supplied my own third verse

Hebrews 10:36
For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God you may receive what is promised.

That’s what Hebrews has to say: stand fast, hold your ground, and progress pilgrim, because going back is not worth it. What is worth everything is when your life sings the lyric that was written just for you, that no one else knows, but needs to learn.

So no one sings your verse? You sing it, beloved. Lean back, tip your chin and just belt it out. It’s your story, it’s your song. It’s about praising your Savior all the day long! Make your verse the one the conductor modulates on. Even if it’s in the minor key, that’s okay, because it can raise the hair on the back of people’s necks like you wouldn’t believe!

Fannie Crosby, blinded in infancy by a quack, used her third verse to sing the message of her life: “If I had a choice, I would still choose to remain blind … for when I die; the first face I will ever see will be the face of my blessed Saviour.” All she did was write 8000 songs and a lot of third verses.

Here’s one:

Perfect submission, all is at rest;
I in my Savior am happy and blest.
Watching and waiting, looking above -
Filled with His goodness…lost in His love!

A woman I know well has been a quadriplegic since 1967. Her own ‘third verse’ is: “God’s greatest miracle to me has been His sustaining power in my life.” Amen, Joni.

Yeah, we’re not gonna skip verse three. It has a LOT to say and just as much to offer. That’s what I think Hebrews 10:36 is supposed to be: the missing verse that puts it ALL together, giving better perspective to this beautiful, hard, fulfilling and frustrating thing we call discipleship.

It’s beautiful music indeed.

Drive-Thru Jesus

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Not far from our house is a small clutch of retail establishments with only three or four eateries. And one of those is a McDonald’s.

Sigh.

We’re not much for fast-food, but when we’re tired and hungry and don’t want to drive very far, we’ll give in and drive up the road and grab a bite. No, not at Mickey D’s – that’s pretty much never in our GPS. Except for their morning coffee. It’s pretty good, I’d have to say. Better than, even.

But I digress.

We’ll invariably choose another joint that at least has some good salad choices and better-than-average chicken plates. Anything with a pretentious ‘Z’ in its name has promise. We’d prefer to add to Truitt Cathy’s bulging wallet, but his place is way over four miles from us; plus it’s only got a drive-thru. And, we like the whimsical, warm-glow atmosphere of the primarily southern restaurant’s (could it be called that?) dining room.

Being the marvelous husband that I am, I gallantly offer to make a run up to the place and pick something up for us both. I know how Sandy likes her tea, how many yellow-pack sweeteners she likes, how she prefers her fries without its strangling seasoning, how she takes her sauce, etc.

I tell you, I’ve got this husband thing down pat.

But, invariably, my love will tell me she’d rather us go together so we can enjoy the full benefits of dining inside. Long ago she explained that you can get free refills, take the time to season or sweeten to your heart’s content, and, who knows, but being extra nice to the girl at the register might cause her to whisper “give ‘em extra fries” through the window to the food prepare’s side.

In short, the drive-thru limits you. What you drive away with, you’re stuck with. Ah, but when you sit and dine – hello – if the food’s not quite to your liking, all you have to do is walk ten feet to the counter and inform them (nicely! Extra fries or chicken pieces in your salad, remember?) that your palate, while titillated, is not yet sated.

A lot of His followers treat Jesus like a drive-thru. A quick convenience. In and out…or, up to the small impersonal window and gone, lickety-split. In a snap. A forty-second encounter. Little fuss. Little wait.

But remember…

When you drive away, you’re stuck with what you got, that is, unless you’re willing to go to inconvenient lengths to get your demands met.

When Jesus said He wanted a chance to “sup” with us (Rev 3:20), he used the word that means to sit and dine, not looking at the clock, not squeezing Him in, not ‘fast-fooding’ it. It’s the meal of the day that Martha was preparing for, bless her heart. She wanted it just right. Little did she realize, the feast was already happening in the other room.

Oh, the rich benefits of spending a lot of time over a meal with Jesus – not allotted time. It’s not “on-the-go”. The ancients had a meal-time like that – we call it lunch. This is a two to three hour meal where time is taken and life is exchanged. Five, six courses.

Conversation.

Savoring.

Embellishment.

Transformation.

Such ‘supping’ offers all the little extras. There’s the atmosphere – the ambience – of being inside, not “out there” choking on the fumes of the world. Complete with all the accessible a la cart perks!

The “better part.”

You may not get a daily time like this, I know, but carve times and seasons throughout the year – weekly, monthly – when you shut off the motor, venture inside…

…and sup at His table.

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