the thirty percent

[5 minutes]

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. II Timothy 4:7

How important is it to you to finish well?

Biblical scholar and teacher Dr. J. Robert Clinton studied the lives of one hundred main characters in the Bible. What he discovered was hard to swallow. Fewer than 30% of them finished well.

Which people of the Bible might you add to a list of those who patterned exemplary faith? Joseph! Daniel, for sure. You have to include Ruth. Job had his moments, but he ultimately came forth as gold. Remember, it’s not about being perfect — or whether you stumble along the way (we all do!) — but rather how you finish.

There are noteworthy examples, but none more deserving than Paul. When I die, I hope with all my heart that I am able to echo what Paul confessed before he left this world:

I fought hard.

I ran a good race.

I’m ready.

“Finished” in the scripture highlighted above is τετέλεκα — an echo of the very proclamation Jesus made from the cross: It is finished. While the Savior completed his divine mission to perfection, Paul faced his own human death with Christlike finality.

Do you know what I really love about Paul’s ‘death-bed’ confession to Timothy? Ten years earlier, Paul had a shoreline meeting with some church elders at Ephesus when he declared at that time:

However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace.
—Acts 20:24

A decade later, Paul sent a letter from a Roman prison to the young pastor of that same Ephesian church to say: “Mission accomplished.”

I fought the good fight.

I ran a good race.

I kept the faith for a good death.

Oh how I long to meet my Savior having the same bravado! I pray I’ll not to be a shipwreck or footnote.

In Clinton’s study only 50 of the 100 Bible characters researched had enough print about their life to determine whether or not they finished well. That means the other 50 didn’t have enough data points to know one way or the other.

Brothers and sisters, I don’t want anyone guessing about my life. I pray there is ample evidence to sift through! One day, by the grace of God, I hope a flag is planted over my bones that declares, “Here lies Scott Thomas Mitchell. He loved Jesus to the death.”

Last October one of my ministry heroes, Charles Swindoll, preached his final sermon at age 90. In a time of great shaking, scandal, heresy, and controversy in the pulpits, it is refreshing to hear of a man who faithfully ran his race and finished his course in a worthy manner.

And yet — shockingly — as the celebrated pastor was preparing for his exit, one of his own staff pastors was fired for moral misconduct a few months earlier. Two men. Two entirely different outcomes.

It’s a mercy of God that as we age our goals for end of life become more streamlined, focused. While in our younger years our dreams were all over the map, old age has a way of shaking them out and latching on to the ones that stick.

Early on in ministry I had a pastor/mentor say to me, ‘You know what my goal is? When I die, if they say ‘he loved God and he loved his wife and family’ then I’ve achieved my goal.’ At the time I thought that was incredibly lame. Years later, I get it. Such wisdom.
— an anonymous pastor

Aging Scott gets it, too.

Three verses after anticipating his own triumphant homegoing, Paul grieved about a man named Demas. Still bruised, the apostle sadly reflected over the tragic outcome of his former companion’s faith.

Howard Hendricks, a renowned seminary professor who died well in the Lord, interviewed 246 men in the clergy who had started out well but failed within two years. Here are some of the common threads he found in those 246 case studies:

None of the men was involved in any kind of real personal accountability.
Each of the men had all but ceased having a daily time of personal prayer, Bible reading, and worship.
More than 80 percent of the men became sexually involved with the other woman after spending significant time with her, often in counseling situations.
Without exception, each of the 246 had been convinced that sort of fall “would never happen to me.”

It’s not only pastors or church leaders who should be wary of finishing poorly. In a letter to a congregation in Greece, the apostle Paul offers this solemn charge: “So, whoever thinks he stands must be careful not to fall.” (1 Cor. 10:12)

Consider for a moment this alarming statement:

In American Christianity today, there are more defections than conversions.
— The American Beliefs Study, 2022

There is plenty of evidence corroborating people leaving the institutional church, but the above annotation is taken from a study of those leaving the faith.

Jesus himself knew the sting of such numbers. As the gathering shadows fell across his popular ministry years, a raft of followers decided his way was no longer their way.

Finishing well is hard work. Paul called it a fight, a grueling race to be legged out. The world, the devil, and our greedy flesh each distract and frustrate us to no end. We drop the baton. Knock over a hurdle or two. Or three. We get downcast. We fall and lose precious ground. But we keep legging it out.

The race isn’t over. Wherever you are on the track, beloved, there’s still time to jump back in. Run for the prize. Compete for the crown. Be one of the 30%.

Keep fighting the good fight.

Stay the course.

And finish well.

Selah, and see you at the finish line, dear one.

are you the one?

[5 minutes]

I heard someone say the imprisoned John who wondered if he was trusting the right person to be the Messiah is a lot like us during Advent.

Can I trust you to fix what’s wrong with my world?

You’re a baby. You seem powerless. I envisioned a king and a kingdom, not a child in a manger. Are you big enough to take on the enemy and put everything right?

Now the Baby is all grown up, but Herod’s House is still up to its old shenanigans. Rome’s flags are still planted in sacred soil. All Jerusalem isn’t going out to see John anymore; he’s a has-been. Yesterday’s news. So last year.

Are you the One?

Charles Wesley intoned the groaning plea of the soul-heavy burden of advential waiting in the lyrics of his resurgent Christmas hymn:

Come Thou Long Expected Jesus

Come, thou long expected Jesus,
born to set thy people free;
from our fears and sins release us,
let us find our rest in thee.
Israel’s strength and consolation,
hope of all the earth thou art;
dear desire of every nation,
joy of every longing heart.

Born thy people to deliver,
born a child and yet a King,
born to reign in us forever,
now thy gracious kingdom bring.
By thine own eternal spirit
rule in all our hearts alone;
by thine all sufficient merit,
raise us to thy glorious throne.

▫️Charles Wesley▫️

Keith Getty remarked,

In the third and fourth lines of this first verse, the words fear and rest are juxtaposed reminding us that Christmas is often a time when our fears are amplified…There is often an unspoken pressure that Christmas must be perfect and harmonious, a time when we can stop and rest and have a break from all the usual stresses of life. And yet the reality is that the Christmas holidays don’t always give us the reprieve that we long for — many of us continue to carry huge burdens and difficulties.

A middle school teacher prayed these words in the aftermath of a deadly shooting at her Christian school this week: “In the depths of our spirits we know you are good, but our hearts are so confused. Our hearts waffle between being angry and afraid and being filled with memories and trauma. God, we don’t know how to manage all of that. We’re just coming to you and saying we need you.”

Since Jesus came, the storylines of human history include crucifixion, persecution, attrition, sedition, addiction, affliction, and a host of other maladies and catastrophes. We longed for a new world, but we’ve been given a world of woe.

There’s no way around the fact that incarnation means coming to a filthy and fetid world…Jesus came into a world where some babies are beloved and nurtured, while some babies are left on street corners or next to dumpsters…He came into a world where young girls and boys are sold into prostitution and refugees spend their lives waiting in squalid camps. It’s a world where white picket fences hold together falling-apart marriages.
It’s a world with disease and mental illness. A fallen creation groans with earthquakes, floods, and fires. We’ve made a mess of our lives and our families and this world. And we live with the fallout of other people’s messes too. Drugs. Death. Destruction. Sorrow, unending sorrow. Flies and vultures buzz over little ones with swollen bellies. Sludge freezes solid and becomes a playground for barefoot children. It is all too dirty, and yet he came near.
– Carrie McKean, Filthy Night, Fetid Night, CT Magazine, December 19, 2023

Are you the One?

Let’s hear Jesus in His own words: “Go tell John…”

Tell John what?

Tell him there are things happening he can’t see right now. There are miracles he’s not aware of. Right under your nose, John, all around you, my Kingdom is advancing, and droves of weary, heavy-laden folks are pressing into it.

Remind John that he leapt in his momma’s womb because of days like this.

Thank you, Heavenly Father, that the little children get it. The bent reeds get it. The smoldering wicks get it. Thank you that the least of these will not be left out.

Thank you for a world of woe that makes us heartsick and homesick for Another World. Thank you for the Incarnate Son of God who knew our grief when he wept at his friend’s tomb. Who expended necessary energy for a humiliated woman who couldn’t stop bleeding. Who tore down a blockade of bazaar kiosks to make space for weary pilgrims to pray. Who noticed a widow drop her last coins in the coffer because her God was bigger than her need. Who cast aside protocol and touched lepers.

You can hardly blame John. One doesn’t get a lot of good news down in Herod’s dungeons. Perspective is challenged when your days are numbered. It’s hard to see anything good when all you know is bad. Does Jesus even know about me down here?

I love that Jesus not only has pity for John, but praise. He’s still my guy. Nobody can hold a candle to John . He did everything that was asked of him and he finished well.

Next time you feel forsaken, consider the man down in Herod’s dungeon. Greater things were happening above ground because he played his part. Even though John’s part landed him in prison, facing execution, he would be gloriously resurrected at the Second Advent.

You are playing your part also, beloved. God’s favor rests on you because you have the Son’s Life in you. Sometimes we play a flute, sometimes we sing a dirge but we do it all because the Baby who came is the Sun of Righteousness who will return with healing in his wings. And we will go out of here leaping like calves released from the stall!

Yes, John, he is the One.

Selah, beloved.

wesley was right.

[6 minutes]

Do all the good you can,

by all the means you can,

in all the ways you can,

in all the places you can,

at all the times you can,

to all the people you can,

as long as ever you can.

John Wesley

Years ago the New York Times ran a feature asking for people to share their Thanksgiving (horror) stories. There were a number of funny anecdotes along with the disaster stories, but in the mix came one tragic comment from somebody who called themselves “Sad Person”:

My Holiday horror story is that every year I am reminded that my family doesn’t want me and I don’t have any friends. I wish the world wouldn’t stop for eight weeks every year and I could just be in peace.

There were a good many responses to “Sad Person” but I thought this one captured the gist of my post today:

A note to sad person. What you say about your family may be true, but I certainly hope not. However, remember, if you want a friend you have to also be a friend to someone, too. It’s not a one-way street. Be kind to someone who is lonely, do a good deed for someone in need, do volunteer work at a hospital/charity, and smile at everyone you meet. You will make people feel very special and you will feel wonderful for doing it.

I got the idea for today’s blog piece from a recent rereading of Galatians. In chapter 6, Paul appeals to a congregation of tired, irritated, even selfish believers who had lost the plot. He even said, “Y’all got me SMH” (Gal 4:20). This whole section, from verse one on, could fall under the title: “CHURCH IS HARD” or “SAINTHOOD IS EXHAUSTING.”

People sin and break your heart. They can drag you down with their drama and be a royal burden. You and I can be a piece of work also, let’s not forget. The flesh is loud and whiny and arrogant and is always trying to kill you when you’re not looking. It won’t ever shut up, or let up, or give up. The struggle is real. Saints don’t happen overnight (Gal 4:19).

good advice

So, given all that, just do all the good you can to anyone and everyone as you have opportunity. Don’t complicate things. Don’t overanalyze. Don’t overthink it. Just do good (v10). You’ve got shortcomings, I’ve got shortcomings; we’re not going to have everything figured out. Just. Do. Good. In the name of Jesus. Don’t withhold it because you don’t think they deserve it (newsflash: you don’t either!). Do good anyway.

There’s so much drama, yes. On the daily there’s a never-ending pile of (pardon the French) doo-doo we have to deal with all the time. “Sufficient for the day is its own trouble,” Jesus said. True to all of that, but that means there’s never-ending possibilities to do good, to make someone’s day, to punch holes in the darkness, to right wrongs, to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God.

Sainting is hard. Loving is hard. Bearing one another’s burdens is hard. Bearing our own loads is hard. Fighting the flesh is hard. Getting up and being motivated to face another day is hard. But we do it for Jesus. We are kind for Jesus. We are patient with others for Jesus. We fight what we’d like to say for Jesus. We fight airing our grievances for Jesus. We fight jerking a knot in somebody’s tail for Jesus. We overcome evil with good…for Jesus.

There are some I’ve had to halt praying imprecatory prayers for because God told me “I want you to pray good for them. Leave that other stuff to me.” So I pray good on their day. I ask God to bless them. I pray for opportunities to serve them in little ways. What I can’t do is be around them because that’s not good for my mental and spiritual health, but the good I can do is to pray good for them…and leave the other stuff to God to work out. Lord knows I fail, but I’m starting to fail a little bit less these days.

due season

Another motivation to “do all the good we can” is that, one day, there’s going to be a reaping (v9). And the reaping is going to be epic. It’s going to be so good. “Every ounce of Christian suffering will be compensated for with millions of years of rest, and still more besides. This suffering will be merely a blip on the radar of an eternity of peace, a grain of sand compared to the global beaches of God’s comfort in the world to come” (Jared C. Wilson).

So keep doing good even if the only good you can do right now is to smile at someone or finally finish that chore you promised or pay for the person’s coffee behind you in the drive-thru line. Or text someone you’re on the outs with and just say, “I’m sorry. I love you.”

Hey brother- (or sister-) -in-Christ:

“You were running well”…..now you’re just going through the motions

You were “standing”……now you’re bowing in defeat

You were “walking in the Spirit”……now you’re wasting away in inertia.

You were “doing good”…..now you’re questioning whether your good is doing any good at all.

Anne Lamott tells of a friend who told her “‘I’m not suicidal, but sometimes I wish I was dead.’ This is the point beyond exhaustion, when you can’t see how you’ll ever fill up again. And then she does, through what she calls lunch-money faith: nothing dramatic, and just enough.”

Perhaps you don’t have the emotional currency right now to invest in something that will cost you dearly, but you have just enough coin in your pocket to buy someone a cup of cold water in Jesus’s name. Lunch-money faith, right? Your level of faith right now has you in the shallow end of the pool when you can distinctly remember a time when you swam in the deep end. It’s okay. You can make a splash there too.

Wesley was right. Do all the good you can, etc. But if “all the good you can” is only enough to fill a thimble, offer that thimble up to God and ask him to bless it, then give it to somebody in Jesus name. Then ask for him to give you a cup for next time. I hear Jesus really enjoys a cup of cold water now and again.

Selah, beloved.