preaching to myself

[4 minutes, 710 words]

Do you talk to yourself? I do, and fairly often I might add. Don’t judge. I’ve heard it’s actually a pretty healthy activity that helps improve one’s cognitive function. It’s also an indicator that you’re a verbal processor, aiding in clarifying thoughts and solving problems. Self-talk does become problematic if one were to, say, carry on an entire conversation with one’s self — out loud, mind you — in the supermarket, on the public bus, or while waiting in line at the Chikfila.

Psalm 42 offers a classic example of why it’s so important to preach the gospel to ourselves when we are starting to go dark. One of Israel’s ordained worship leaders¹ was shaken to his core.² He had hard questions for God. He asks why He’s not coming through for him eleven different times. It’s an intensely personal psalm, packed with 50 personal pronouns.

In the middle of his pity party, this anonymous son of Korah recognizes how asinine his accusations against God have been and gives himself a good talking to.

Why, my soul, are you so dejected?
Why are you in such turmoil?
Put your hope in God,
for I will still praise him,
my Savior and my God.

And for good measure he chastises himself once again — using the very same words — at the end of his psalm³. Apparently, he’s a lot like you and me: we need to remind ourselves we aren’t God, we don’t know everything, and we aren’t always our own best counselors.

I pray this often: Lord, give me a love for Your Truth so that I will not be deceived. I don’t even want to deceive myself!

The Apostle Paul gravely warned the Corinthian believers:

Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you thinks he is wise in this age, let him become a fool so that he can become wise.
1 Corinthians 3:18

When’s the last time you’ve had a sure enough come-to-Jesus meeting with yourself? Is it long overdue? Sitting and stewing and spewing out dark words without reprimand will harden you over time. If left unchecked, unbridled blame and bitterness will stain your soul.

“Have you realized that most of your unhappiness in life is due to the fact that you are listening to yourself instead of talking to yourself?”

— Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Spiritual Depression

————————-

“Don’t just listen to your worries, preach to them.”

– Michael Reeves

The psalmist wearied of listening to the sound of his own voice. His vinegar words were like hot desert sand in his throat, drying up his reserves of inner peace and consolation.⁴ His onerous self-talk sounded like this:

God, don’t you care about me?⁵

Why should I trust you?

I’ve prayed and prayed until I’m blue in the face; you don’t listen. What good are my prayers?

I thought you were good. I guess not.

If you are entertaining these thoughts, it’s time to tear up that script and find another. If that kind of language is living in your heart, repent. Find a better sermon to preach to yourself.

Hey yo, I’m preaching to myself.

Every time I’ve said, “God, can’t you see what’s happening? Can’t you fix this?” (which is more often than I’m comfortable admitting), I’ve heard the Lord’s voice in my ear say, “What makes you think I don’t see? What makes you so sure I don’t have this?”

Why my soul are you so dejected? Why are you in such turmoil? Put your hope in God! C’mon, Scott, you know better!

I’m such a dunderhead sometimes. In those wildly unattractive moments, I need to stop listening to myself and start talking to myself. I need a long-winded, Spirit-led, grace-filled, life-changing sermon to get me to the altar.

Join me in this new year, won’t you, and may we reform our ways; let’s stop listening to our thoughts and emotions and begin preaching a better gospel to ourselves.

As such, we should take a page from the psalmist’s playbook:

Put your hope in God⁶
Praise Him in all things
Remember all the many other times He’s come through for you⁷
Never question how much He loves you…unfailingly so⁸
Trust in God’s round-the-clock protection⁹

Selah, beloved.

The signature for this psalm is given as a “son of Korah.” Such were entrusted with the organization and implementation of temple worship ↩︎
“turmoil,” v5, pictures a loud moaning that can erupt into a scream; Jeremiah uses it in Jer. 4:19 to describe his anguished heart beating loudly inside him ↩︎
Psalm 42:11 ↩︎
Psalm 42:1-3 ↩︎
Psalm 42:9 ↩︎
Psalm 42:5, 11 ↩︎
Psalm 42:6 ↩︎
Psalm 42:7 ↩︎
Psalm 42:8 ↩︎

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.

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.