black and blue

Credit: Getty Images

[900 words, 5 minutes]


One of my former parishioners, a longtime friend, contacted me about some books I left behind in our former church’s library and asked if I might be interested in receiving them back. One of them looks like a Father’s Day gift from Graham, he said. Of course I wanted it!

Seven-year-old Graham thought his dear old dad could use a book of devotional readings geared for men. Although I read many of its 365 entries in 1997, I never finished it. I thought it might be a good idea — in honor of my son’s wishes — to plow through its 400-plus pages again.

Its daily readings feature a selection of writings from various respected Christian authors and ministers. Some are unfamiliar to me but others I know all too well.

Here’s the thing. I built up a good head of steam reading the daily selections, feeling nourished by some insights I found therein, but one day I hit on one that stopped me cold. The writer was recognizable to me as a man who had just filled the headlines with substantiated charges of adultery. I decided to skip that day.

A few days later, another blighted pastor was featured. I skipped that one too. Two days hence, yet another disgraced man of God. Three fallen preachers in one week, in a book designed ‘for men seeking integrity.’ The irony was crushing. I mean, What are we even doing here?

These discoveries forced a question: What testimony am I building? I’ve catalogued a great many blog posts, spiritual essays, and sermons through the forty years I’ve been preaching. Do I want someone to come across something I’ve written twenty or thirty years from now and have them say, “no thanks, I’ll skip this guy”?

I’m privileged to be a part of a rotation of teachers for our church’s Thursday night men’s discipleship gathering. Each of the last two weeks I shared from Paul’s final words to Timothy.


I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

2 Timothy 4:7


It’s telling that I haven’t spent my time condemning those men who failed, but instead I’m taking stock of my own testimony. Lord knows I still have things the Spirit is working to redeem, and while I certainly have my share of disappointments and failures, I’m grateful to have the public testimony of a preserved faith. I’m holding on to that like a precious treasure.

A proverb reminds us to “Guard your heart above all else, for it is the source of life” (Prov 4:23, CSB). If the citadel is taken by the enemy, the whole town has to surrender. If the enemy overtakes our spiritual loves and affections, our entire testimony will collapse into rubble. People won’t remember our glory days; they’ll only recall how we fell on our swords.

It’s a fight to remain faithful. It doesn’t come naturally nor does it come passively. Paul’s last recorded words are solemnly directed at a pastor to get serious about death and judgment, the faithful proclamation of the scriptures, and faithful attendance to his own testimony. All else is prelude.

Prisoner Paul then makes a bold admission. He says “I’m ready, Timothy. I’ve been a lifelong warrior and I’m going out on my feet! I’ve done all that God commanded me to do. I’ve finished the race, gutting it out to the very last mile.”

There were a lot of battles and bruises that preceded such a declaration. In one harrowing passage, Paul recounted all the bloody miles of his marathon that led up to his finish line. Fought the good fight, indeed.

And then I remembered another fight the apostle had: with himself.


I run the race then with determination. I am no shadow-boxer, I really fight! I am my body’s sternest master, for fear that when I have preached to others I should myself be disqualified.

1 Corinthians 9:26-27 (JBP)


As if the world, the flesh, the devil, and religion aren’t enemy enough, we’ve got to face off with the man in the mirror every day of our lives. We’ve got to box ourselves, beat ourselves black and blue (the Greek in verse 27 means to bruise your eye), and train ourselves in godliness.

Paul said his hardest opponent was Paul. Alexander did him much harm, but Paul needed to be brought to the mat. Demas forsook him, but Paul needed to go all Rocky on himself. Hymanaeus had to be turned over, but Paul needed a black eye. The Corinthians were a source of endless consternation, but Paul stood toe-to-toe with himself every day of his life.

One of the great things about coming to the finish line — for me — will be to finally be done with this world, the devil, and myself. I get so tired of me. But if the word of God is true – and it is – it’s a good fight, a noble fight, a necessary fight.

If Scott Mitchell doesn’t want his testimony to be ‘skipped over’ some day, he’s going to have to daily go toe-to-toe with himself in the ring and punch himself in the nose, not box the air.

Winning takes training and discipline. It takes black eyes and bruised faces and broken noses to be able to say, “I’ve fought the good fight.”

That’s how I want to go out: black and blue and…ready like Paul.

Selah, beloved.

it had to be john

[5 minutes]

Hey y’all, I want to share some thoughts with you I’ve been mulling over about the naming of John the Baptist in Luke 1…and what that means for us, the grace-endowed people of God.

When Zechariah and Elizabeth presented their miracle baby for circumcision, Elizabeth insisted her baby be named John. Insisted. Others thought Zechariah would be more appropriate, but Elizabeth stood her ground.

“No,” she said staunchly. “His name will be John. Period. End of discussion.”

We know why she was so adamant from a verse earlier in the chapter:

But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard, and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call his name John.”

Luke 1:13

I mean, the angel Gabriel said so, come on. Who’s going to defy God’s main messenger angel? John it was prophesied, and John it shall be.

When Elizabeth told those closest to her about the naming, they balked. When has there been a ‘John’ in our history? Give him the name of a notable priest or prophet! This is a miracle! It deserves a BIG name! But John?!

“John” means ‘Yah (the LORD) is gracious’ in Hebrew. “God has graced us” is a beautiful rendering also. Zechariah and Elizabeth were graced with a son in their olden years.

Remember, Elizabeth and Zechariah were well past childbearing years. The name infers “special grace“ for a privileged couple. All of John’s days he would have the reminder of his name to know that he was a grace-gift.

May I just insert here – [it is my thesis after all!] – you and I have been blessed to carry the name of Christ Jesus. This should remind us all day, every day that we are stewards of special grace and are to extend that same grace everywhere we go.]

They could have gotten really clever and named their baby Zechariah John. That’s catchy, right? Got a nice ring to it? It’s good compromise after all. But no. His name was John. No other name would do.

So from here on are the thoughts I’ve been mulling over about this scene in the third gospel, Luke 1:59-80 in particular.

John’s birth and calling worked in tandem with the Advent of Jesus who is the Christ. So close were they on the timeline of salvation’s grand history you can’t be witness to Jesus’s arrival without hearing John’s announcement.

The Baptist was born into the world to do one thing: prepare people’s hearts for the Advent of Messiah (Luke 1:17). His coming illustrates the Church’s mission since her birth in the Acts.

We believers should take joy in being part of something so special, birthed by God, indwelt by His Holy Spirit, and called out among all the peoples of the earth to announce and proclaim the Coming of Christ Jesus to the world. The Church is meant to be a blessing for all!

forerunner of Messiah

Enter John. It had to be “John.” We have been wonderfully, gloriously graced to meet Jesus. It became official when his Dad, Zechariah, (finally) said the name out loud, much as the Father spoke over Jesus: This is My Beloved Son.

John was a peculiar name just as we are a peculiar people. We are peculiarized (my word) in our naming and identity. We are Christians (belonging to the realm of Christ) and called-out ones, called to wilderness life this side of heaven to prepare us and make us ready for the Day of our Revealing as the sons and daughters of God (Romans 8:19; 1 John 3:2).

And the child grew and became strong in spirit, and he was in the wilderness until the day of his public appearance to Israel.

— Luke 1:80

John grew and “became strong in spirit” (v80). The tense of the verb is that he kept growing and he kept getting stronger in spirit through his lifetime. We won’t mention John’s briefly questioning Jesus’s creds when he was in prison facing execution. I think he gets a pass for that, considering he was faithful unto death.

Maybe as you have read along, trying to follow the flow of my thinking, you’re slowly beginning to pick up on it too. The trajectory of John’s life, beginning to end, is the same testimony of the Church.

Enter the Church. We were conceived in grace, birthed in promise, named intentionally, living as nomads and exiles on earth, all the while announcing the Glorious Arrival of the Christ of Heaven.

The Apostle Paul said it has to be us, too. God doesn’t have a Plan B. Weak, foolish, low, and despised though we may be, we’re it. If you got to play God for a day, would you choose us?

the church as forerunners, too

Brothers and sisters in Christ, we know there’s a lot of “not the Church” “inside the Church.” That’s pretty obvious to us (and to the world). Don’t fret it and sweat it. God knows it too. He graced us with a calling and mission. (By Christ) we’ll get it done.

God’s graced us with fiery prophets and prayer warriors and preachers and wilderness voices and faithful husbands and devoted wives and surrendered singles and poets and artists, as well as Spirit-filled children …with more yet to be birthed into the Kingdom!

God stands over it all, steady and unflinching. He named us. And because He promised a faithful Bride for His Son, we will see unparalleled growth by the Spirit — along with increasing hardship — as we draw ever closer to the Day.

‘God is gracious.’

He has graced us.

Let us give thanks.

And you, child (Church), will be called the prophet (people) of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people in the forgiveness of their sins,
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.”

— Zechariah’s blessing over John, with slight edits to include us

That’s what I’ve been chewing on lately. What are you thinking about these days?

Until next time,

Selah, beloved.

going out weeping, coming home rejoicing

[4 minutes]

They weep as they go to plant their seed,
but they sing as they return with the harvest.

Psalm 126:6

The Bible isn’t a guidebook, it is a life book. It’s not a collection of principles to live by, but life-giving truth to rest in.

With refreshing transparency, Andrée Seu Peterson confessed her once weak-kneed approach to scripture during a particularly painful season of grief. While “grousing” she read from another writer who leaned hard into the Word of God in her own similar season of trial.

In her book Won’t Let You Go Unless You Bless Me, Andrée Seu said she was more prone to “pursue minimum Christianity: saved by the blood, but entitled to grouse.” Patti McCarthy Broderick, however, believed when the Bible said ‘suffering produces character and character hope,’ it means that suffering produces character and character, hope.’*

Andrée Seu:

I, on the other hand, have interposed a baroque system of hermeneutics between the Bible and my life. I have seminary training. Unlike simple people who obey the Bible because they don’t realize how complicated it is, I find ambiguity in every verse. I don’t obey scripture, I discuss it.

She and Broderick had both heard the same statistics and psychological findings regarding the ‘natural’ course of grief and the amount of time needed to ‘process’ it. “I went with the statistics and gave myself permission to be as bad as I wanted to be. She, more simple-minded, files the following report: ‘So I chose instead to bank my life on scripture being true, and I was not going to let even well-meaning Christians talk me out of it’… 

Of Broderick, Andrée Seu said, “She took the Bible as practical…She made a conscious choice to trust in God, to take his word as truth, to see opportunity, and to wear his praises publicly on her lips. And she did not find him disappointing.”

It’s necessary to draw a distinction here between distrustful whining and trusting God even as we grieve. Some sorrows run so deep they may take years to heal. But at the heart of Psalm 126 is a promise that will never disappoint.

jerald

I still recall my friend Jerald’s beautiful exposition of this verse. Jerald served as my right hand man for several years when I was pastor in Douglasville, Georgia. I remember his teaching as if it was yesterday.

Picture it: God directs a farmer to take the precious seed, the last seed in the barn, and plant it in the dry soil of his field. It hasn’t rained for weeks.


What? Waste my seed? Why would I do that? How will my family survive?


See him as he kneels in the dust, taking the last of the seed and putting it into the dry ground. He’s risking everything on God’s coming through for his starving family. Tears fill his eyes as he surrenders to the soil, praying with uncertainty. He looks up at the sky. No clouds. He writes his sweaty brow. The seed does no good in his hands, so he presses it into the hard-packed earth.


The next week he hears thunder. He rushes outside and sees dark clouds filling the sky! Torrents of rain wash down on the farmer’s fields. The ground is suddenly bathed in precious streams of living water, as valuable to him as if he discovered gold.


He had wept when he planted the last of the seed but now he rejoices because he knows the Almighty has heard his cries and has seen his sacrifice. The farmer now laughs as he stands under the showers with arms raised to the sky…

I sat by Jerald’s hospice bed one Sunday morning when he quietly slipped off into eternity. Marie, his wife (and one of my regular readers!), joined me in singing as many verses as we could remember of Leaning On The Everlasting Arms as we kept vigil. Somewhere in the middle of the hymn, Jerald left this earthen sod.

In in his lifetime Jerald wept much because of cancer, but Marie and I were witnesses to the exact moment when her husband heard God’s gentle thunder inviting him Home. He took flight from his sick bed to where the fields of grace are always green, always growing, always lush with crops. I believe Jerald was laughing when he saw Jesus.

those who dream

Beloved, one day your soul’s deepest cries will be heard and you will be as one of those who dream about reaching the crest of the last hill after a long wilderness journey. Every thorn and desert, each and every stream of bitter water, and all the giants who towered over you and made you feel weak and unprotected, they will all be behind you, drowned in a sea of forgetfulness.

Oh, but beloved, it’s not a dream. It’s a promise for us too, not just for an ancient people who were just like us. Trust the Almighty Tear-Wiper. You will not find Him disappointing.

Those who sow in tears
shall reap with shouts of joy!

Psalm 126:5

One final word: this promise is not merely for those who cry in this life, but for those who are willing to sow their seed — trusting, believing, hoping — in the midst of their tears. They will be the ones dancing in the rain.

Selah, beloved.


*from her book He Said, “Press”: Hearing God Through Grief by Patti McCarthy Broderick