elon

[4 minutes, 674 words]

No, not that Elon. Today’s meditation is about an Elon of the tribe of Zebulon, who was listed as one of Israel’s judges. All we know about him is that he judged for ten years and where he was buried.

Elon, who was from Zebulun, judged Israel after Ibzan. He judged Israel ten years. And when he died, he was buried in Aijalon in the land of Zebulun.
Judges 12:11-12

Two verses. That’s it.

No dramatic battles. No miraculous exploits. No lengthy narrative. We may surmise that, being buried in a Levite town, Elon was also a priest. Other than that, his life didn’t move any needles that we can see. Nothing heroic is mentioned and yet Elon served a vital role in the history of Israel. And because there is no mention of scandal, we can assume he did his job with integrity.

The church is filled with these kind of leaders. They are everywhere. We don’t really know much about them because their testimonies don’t show up in books, nor are their names dropped in conversations. They never see the big stage, don’t pastor big churches, and their sermons never go viral. They are, for all intents and purposes, unknown in their respective fields.

But not to God. He knows their names, and what they do, and how hard they struggle.

My February read is Pastor, Jesus Is Enough by Jeremy Writebol. The author takes the reader through the seven letters of Revelation, reminding us that they are, first and foremost, addressed to the pastors of those churches. Most of the letters do not flatter the pastors or their congregations.

Sandwiched between the dead church (Sardis) and the lukewarm church (Laodicea) was the only church whose pastor received Jesus’s glowing commendation.¹ He served the church in Philadelphia admirably, even bravely, standing strong in the face of overwhelming opposition.²

Jesus told him, I know you only have a little bit of power in the place where you are ministering. It feels like you’re all alone. You feel inadequate and useless. I assure you, you are not. I picked you. I put you where you are because I want to do God-things through you.

“Jesus doesn’t love the pastor of the big church more than the one who has a smaller, less-well-known ministry. He doesn’t delight more in the international traveler and evangelist who speaks to millions than he does the guy who speaks to the same fifty people every Sunday. His affections aren’t attuned more to the brightest young stars in evangelicalism than they are to the unknown and forgotten pastors who labor faithfully in insignificant places.”
—Jeremy Writebol, Pastor, Jesus Is Enough

Hey you. Yes, you. This post is for you even if you’re not a pastor. God sees you. He sees you in that lonely place where you are faithfully serving the King in spite of your weakness, opposition from others, anonymity, thanklessness, and lack of reward. Nobody else may see what you’re doing and what you’re up against, but your Heavenly Father does.

Most of us will live “Elon lives.” We won’t make headlines. We won’t move any needles. Our follower count will look tame by any metric. But we matter by God’s. So we’ll keep calm and carry on. We’ll simply show up — day after day, year after year — faithfully doing the work God has placed before us. We’ll raise children, serve our neighbors, love our families, and quietly point others to God. And that matters.

God doesn’t measure significance the way the world does. He doesn’t need your life to be spectacular to call it meaningful. He’s calling us to be faithful.

Elon judged Israel for ten years. That was enough. Your quiet faithfulness is enough too.

Prayer: Lord, help me to be faithful even when no one notices. Remind me that significance in Your kingdom isn’t measured by applause but by obedience. Give me the grace to serve You well in the ordinary, everyday moments of my life. Amen.

Selah, beloved.

Revelation 3:8 ↩︎
Revelation 3:9 ↩︎

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.

when jesus is your “why”

“The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.” – Mark Twain

Once upon a time a Sunday school teacher got a burden for a young man in his class and visited the young man at his shop. He told him the good news of the gospel of salvation and that young shoe salesman became one of the great pastors and evangelists of a generation, D.L. Moody.

Now I’m sure that Sunday school teacher accomplished many other things in his life but none more notable than walking into a shoe shop that day.

What an amazing “Why.”

There’s Martin Luther’s memorable “Here I stand, I can do no other” appeal before the Roman Catholic tribunal. Defacing cathedral doors with inflammatory messages might get you in trouble with religious folk but they may be just what is needed to ignite a reformation.

Six centuries later and we all can give thanks today he found his “why” and struck the first match.

At a pastor’s retreat one of the attendees noticed how a woman joyfully cleaned all the rooms each day. On the last day he found her in the bathroom scrubbing one of the toilets and thanked her. “How do you do such degrading work so happily?” he asked. “Oh no,” she relied with a noticeable spark, “I don’t have to do this, I get to do this!”

A beautiful “Why.”

For nearly 40 years I’ve watched my wife minister to me by doing things no wife should ever have to do for her husband. Not long ago I listened in on a phone conversation she was having with a family member. She told my wife, “One of the things I have watched you do over and over is to simply show up. To be there, whenever and wherever you’re needed.”

Her “Why” sings into eternity!

Let’s look at another.

Mary, the sister of Lazarus, is found in several places in the New Testament but in three of the four gospels (Luke shares a different occasion, a different woman, but an uncannily similar act of worship) we find her demonstrating her most notable “Why” the day she walked into the room where Jesus was reclining and poured costly perfume on his feet.

[Read Mark 14:1-9]

Mary’s“beautiful work” was to prepare Messiah for his burial. This is a work belonging only to her. It was a one-of-a-kind act of service in which she endearingly rose to the occasion (or bowed, in her case).

The thought struck me: we can’t do Mary’s noble task of preparing Christ’s body for burial but we can prepare his body for his return (Heb 10:25).

Two Marys and Salome went to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus (Mark 16:1), but they found they were too late. Their anointing was not necessary because Christ Jesus was alive. They didn’t need to do Mary’s “beautiful work” because that was a one-off. Instead, they were given a new mandate to pound the ground with the news of the Savior’s resurrection, and every generation of disciples since are compelled to share that same empty-tomb news… with the added good news that he is coming back!

worthy v. worthless

A word. Just because we do stuff “in Jesus name” doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll have it memorialized on a building or a park bench in the New Jerusalem. There are “beautiful works” and there are “disposable works.” The difference is the source that drives it. Beautiful works put self on its knees and the body of Christ in the place of honor. Disposable works reverse the emphasis. We can cut our neighbor’s lawn but the minute we subtly draw attention to it on social media (posing next to a push mower, gesturing wiping sweat from our faces but smiling like we just did something special) it’s destined for the brush pile. You do know it’s possible to do some pretty great things in Jesus name and those things be burned up and lost in the end (1 Cor 3:11-15), right?

beautiful waste

What Mark does with this beautiful tableau is nothing shy of genius. The anointing at Bethany was actually a week earlier but Mark drops it here because he wants the readers to see the contrast between selfless worship and self-driven religion.

You know how the room reacts to Mary’s “waste of resources.” The Twelve, led by Judas, turn it into a church business meeting and vote against the whole affair. It didn’t make sense to their sensual minds. Judas especially, driven by greed and devilry, thought the whole thing was stupid and consequently showed his true colors.

Where do we next see Judas? That’s right. In the very next paragraph. Mark sets him in the most unflattering light, akin to Iago’s treachery to Desdemona’s innocence. I imagine the good John Mark spitting into his inkwell and gritting his teeth before putting pen to parchment. Gothic overtones. All black, at night, evil intent.

Nothingness.

Waste.

Incidentally, the word “wasted” in verse four is the same word translated “perdition” in John 17:12 with regard to Judas. Mark exposed him as destined for hellfire. It’s a cautionary tale in ALL CAPS for us: any work, act of service, effort, duty, ministry, offering, cause, collaboration, whatever, motivated by greed, self-promotion, self-indulgence, or internal pride, is burnt up and worthless.

Bottom line: if our “Why” isn’t Jesus, there’s no life in it.

In the next post, we’ll explore more deeply the idea of such beautiful, selfless, Mary-scented, Son-approved, life-giving works to the body of Christ and for the glory of God. Judas and his ilk don’t figure into it like this one, so let’s just wash that bad taste from our mouths and focus on a broken jar of perfume and a house infused with a hint of heaven. Mark still has much to say on the matter, so I hope you’ll be back.

Selah, beloved. Until then.

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