Come Sunday…

The last few days I have been reminiscing about growing up in a small town and how nice it was not to have to worry about a lot of things we do now.

Parents didn’t worry about us playing outside in the dark as long as we didn’t drift too far from home. We knew that at 9 o’clock the siren from the fire station would sound the curfew that meant everyone under a certain age should now at the very least be in their own yards if not tucked inside reading a book or perhaps doing homework.

I grew up in church and had a mixture of friends. Some went to church with me; quite a few didn’t. I never really considered myself popular but everyone knew my dad was the pastor of the Pentecostal church on Cody Avenue. It was a good life. We didn’t really worry about how much money we had or what people thought about us.

Sure there was some expectation from my friends. They knew what I was about. They knew what I would do and what I wouldn’t. It never seemed to matter to them that I didn’t do all the things they did. I didn’t go to the theater; didn’t have a TV in my house; didn’t go to dances and no one even brought up smoking or drinking because they knew what I believed and what my Dad preached. If I would have done any of those things I truly believe my friends that didn’t go to church with me would probably have been shocked, maybe even disappointed. And so would a lot of my teachers.

And no I wasn’t perfect but my faith kept me living the life as best as I could, even if it meant repenting in my bed late at night before I fell asleep about being mad at someone.

In My House

You see in my house we ate dinner together as a family. We got up every morning before school to read the Bible and pray before Dad left for work. We read a lot of books, listened to mystery stories, Ranger Bill, and Uncle Charlie on the radio, and we played outside.

Looking back I am not sure how we didn’t get hurt more often with some of the forts we built and the bicycle jumps in the field near our house. We fed the pigs  and chickens of the landlord and he would give us a couple near the end of the year for our trouble. Dad worked several jobs it seemed but he always had time to go hunting and more importantly to be active in our lives.

Whether it was studying up on bees to tell my 3rd grade class about since I had bragged he grew up on a farm and had bees, ( I didn’t know it wasn’t as big of deal as it was in my head), or the time he helped me carve a piece of wood into a race car for the pinewood derby. He did a lot of things like that, but come Sunday he was on the platform leading worship, maybe singing a song, and preaching to us and telling us about the power of God and His love.  We had a lot of miracles in our church. It became so common that if someone had a need they were calling my dad to pray, sometimes before they called the ambulance.  I could tell you lots of stories about things that happened growing up. Maybe some day I will, but for right now I want you to remember the scripture that says ‘train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it.’ That was and is my life.

The Other Family

I won’t mention their name but I am sure if you know me it won’t be hard to figure out who I am talking about. This family too ate dinner together. Usually most of it was homemade and from what I recall there was always fresh biscuits. They seemed to enjoy hanging out with each other but if you were to visit you would almost always hear one of them yelling at another.

Sometimes it was the adult yelling at a kid. Sometimes kids yelling and fighting with each other. Sometimes it was the kids yelling at the parent to be followed by a quick yelp as a hand or maybe a switch touched someone’s backside. I don’t know if they had a TV but you could be pretty sure if they wanted to watch something they figured out a way to ‘visit’ the neighbors who had TVs, even if it was ‘supposed to be babysitting.’

Remembering back, most of the kids in the family never finished school. It just didn’t fit with their life’s goal I guess. They didn’t really get involved in a lot of the stuff I did, although a couple of them hung around with me on occasion. I remember seeing black eyes and sometimes scratches on their arms and neck, but knew it didn’t come from the parents but most likely they had been in a fight with someone.

I spent the night there a couple of times and I don’t remember them reading the Bible and praying, but I do know that they had a couple of Bibles laying around. Most of them could sing fairly well and it was common for them to a sing a special in church or be part of a choir. They loved those old gospel hymns. It didn’t seem to matter what all happened during the week, come Sunday you knew that family would be in their Sunday best and sitting a couple rows back from the front of the church.

I remember their singing. I even remember some miracles that took place in their lives and lots of shouting and worship growing up with them. But I also remember the smoking, the chewing, the talking about dirty movies, and in general the chaos that was their lives. Sure, they did come to church. And I am certain they loved God, but the depth didn’t seem to be there when I look back.

The father was quick to point out what I should or shouldn’t be doing since I was the pastor’s son but the same rules didn’t seem to apply to his kids.

It has been quite a while since I heard from any of them. I know the parents have long since passed away and from what I have heard through the grapevine, none of the kids still serve God or even go to church. It is sad really. I wonder about them often. What happened in their lives? Is there still some place they can go to remember back to what it felt like to be slain in the altar or the worship that cascaded from the prayer rooms? What do they do on Sunday now?

Sunday…

We have a tendency to place a strong influence on going to church on Sunday. Whether you are a Pentecostal or attend another denomination, for most people come Sunday they are visiting a church somewhere. They might be quick to point out how important it is to be in church, or perhaps even look down their nose a bit if you aren’t there like they expect. And maybe they do miss you if you aren’t there but what is Sunday to them? Really?

Is it church? Is it worship? Is it a time filler before football? Is it just something they do?

Serving God is more than what you do on Sunday. Being a Christian does not mean you go to a church, pay your tithes, drop a few bucks in an offering plate and sing a song or two.

Sunday is the day we have come to delegate as time for worship, but serving God is what you do during the rest of the week. It is how you live your life with your family. It is the way you act in the supermarket when someone is slow. It is looking past that temptation to take that thing that isn’t yours or to forgive those who don’t quite act the way you expect them to.

Sunday should be a time of reflection, worship, thankfulness, and love for the Almighty. It is not about the pretty dress you have on, or the fact that you combed your hair a certain way, or the fact that you have your ‘assigned’ seat right near the back so you can run out to the restroom during prayer without anyone noticing.

Sigh…

I remember many services that were long but driven to worship. Celebratory times when people were baptized and it wasn’t just what we did because someone asked. Fellowship meetings where others who believed the same came together for some good preaching, singing, and worship and then stayed after long enough to chat and have a sandwich and chips.

I remember many who were overcome with the power of God and with long drawn out emotions as they bowed over at the altar. No one was going to drag them away; you just had to wait until they were done.

Everyone shouted Amen to the preacher and stood to their feet with their Bibles in hand excited about the presence of God. We believed in heaven and hell. We didn’t look for excuses as to why we weren’t there. We didn’t want to miss service because we knew if we did they were surely ‘going to have a good service.’

But the thing is most of those who used to do that aren’t there anymore. You might catch a glimpse of them around town but you can see their lives have take a different turn. It isn’t judging. It is more a sense of why? And no, going to church doesn’t make you a Christian. I really believe that. What transpires in your life during the week and how you spend time with your family is much more important. Do we have Bibles catching dust on the shelves? Or do we even know where they are anymore?

Come Sunday…

There are a lot of people who put the blame on others. For many years I have heard them say society started going down hill when they took prayer out of school; we need to get it back. And while I agree that played a big part it is not going to come back.

Besides, how is that going to help your child? Your wife? Your parents? Will having a Bible in school or prayer even reach them? Your kids used to go to church. They may have even spoke in tongues. Sunday School played a big impact in how most of us were raised, and yet most churches see it as a form of babysitting now. It isn’t about the word. It is about making sure someone watches your kids while you listen to someone theorize about why society is the way it is and that maybe we are just not forgiving enough. We just don’t understand them being the way they are. You have heard it. You know what I am talking about.

And yes, God forgives all manner of sin. I truly believe that. But I am sorry if you think getting prayer back in schools is going to make a difference. You are wrong. How about instead we start working on getting prayer back in our homes.

Crack open that dusty old Bible. Put down the phone, or the Ipad, turn off the TV and spend some time with God in your prayer closet. And come Sunday it will be a whole new day!

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Who Do You Say I Am?

This has been quite a summer. It has been one of the busiest I have faced in quite a while, and I find myself wondering where it has all gone.

Sure, there was lots of visits with family and friends, my parents 50th anniversary, catching a stomach bug, starting a new job, and doing my best to stay cool in the summer heat.

Politics is in full swing as is the Olympics and of course there is always controversy to some fashion in both of those, but about a week ago there was an event that took place across our nation in response to one man’s comment about his support of marriage between one man and one woman.  Liberals were immediately in arms against this man and his restaurant chain and ‘how dare he define what was right and wrong.’ Surely, you heard about Chick-Fil-A?

On the other hand the supporters, and I would assume believers of the Biblical principles of what constitutes a marriage, came out in full support. Record numbers showed up to purchase chicken sandwiches and drinks from this place to show that they supported the rights of this man. Some said it was bigoted hate coming out; some said it was the Christian thing to do; and still others said it was about civil rights.

Integrity And Character

A video surfaced on YouTube, where a man showed up and called the server at the window hateful, and how could she sleep knowing she was involved with supporting a hate group. It went viral, made most news broadcasts, and in the end the man was fired from his own job for his behavior toward her.

Today, I saw an interview with this girl and she said she had accepted an online apology from the man who was so rude and hateful, but also she was sorry he lost his job and that his family was subjected to so much criticism in the media. She showed amazing patience, integrity, and a great depth of character.

I found myself wondering how would I have reacted in the same circumstance? Would I have been as kind and patient? Would my human nature taken over and I would have spewed out the same type of anger toward him that he was giving to  me? Most probably the latter.

As Christians, we like to think of ourselves many times as above the fray, and that we would react differently if faced with accusations and anger, but let’s face it, most of us can get riled up and ready to fight back with just a couple of words.

The Bible says in the last days there will be wars and rumors of wars, but it also states that brother shall rise against brother, even unto the death. I must admit, even at my age, when my brothers get me riled up instead of walking away, or turning the other cheek, it is much easier to get angry and attack back. Words can hurt and being betrayed by your own brother in a moment that should be happy, can drop the strongest of us to our knees.

While on our knees, we should reflect on the one who is really able to deliver, but usually the anger, the hurt, the flesh takes over and we rise back up to fight with full battle gear. We are human; we don’t like being hurt or accused and generally it is those close to us who tend to give us the most problems. But when we blow our temper, chances are our integrity and character will vanish in the midst of it.

Who Do You Say I Am?

Peter was asked this question by Jesus. He had walked with Jesus, seen many miracles, joined Christ walking on the water; he was one of Jesus’ closest followers.  At first it seems an easy question. 

If we were asked we would probably say God, the son of God, Saviour, healer, or a multitude of other attributes we give to Jesus.

Peter was asked three times and by the last one, he was actually upset because Jesus questioned him. And instead of explaining why he asked three times, Jesus simply told him to feed his sheep and lambs.  The question I believe wasn’t really about did Peter believe in Jesus, but He was searching to see where Peter’s character was at. What did he really believe down deep inside? Was he trustworthy? Could he be counted on?

Jesus essentially was saying, ‘Peter, who are you?’

What About Us?

Most of us like to profess our Christianity. We might even brag to some degree. We have habits of discussing what we believe, and sometimes arguing the finer points of what the Bible really means and at times we can get in heated discussions about it.

This has its place, but I wonder sometimes if we are the same person we were when we first came to Jesus. That moment when we gave Him our all, when He filled us with His presence. Are we still that person?

Now some might say we should grow from where we started and we should, but do you still believe the same values with as much vigor as we did that first moment when we spoke in other tongues? Most of us at that time are quick to tell everyone. We want everybody to have what we have and we are unafraid to share it.

We do our best to get rid of the old man; the lying, drinking, swearing, or whatever bad behaviors we had in our life. We seem to hold our head higher, dress nicer for service, do our best to live a life that would be pleasing in God’s sight. But how long does it last? Or does it? Are we still serving God with the same tenacity we did then?

We know how it was when we began. You would find us reading the word, establishing a daily prayer life, doing our best to encourage and uplift others, and in as much ability as we have, being a witness for Christ.

If someone we knew saw us they might even call us a holy roller, and instead of being upset about it, we wore the tag with pride. We were a child of God. How much better could it be.

Living The Life

In time, though, most of us tend to slip back in some of our behaviors. We aren’t as open about what we believe, unless we are discussing it with someone else who believes. Some of the areas that we had overcame slip back in a little. We don’t pray quite as much because we get so busy, and well for many of us, our Bible gets picked up as we head out the door for church.

What we consider Christian, and even Apostolic,  changes some too. Maybe some of those things that we were so on fire about in the beginning was just our judgmental attitude or maybe it was just zeal at the time. Before long, the church we used to attend very faithfully, the tithe we used to pay, doesn’t seem to matter quite so much, and if our children don’t quite act the way they should, well we give them the benefit of the doubt as we remember them in prayers from time to time.

Please understand, I am not saying that everything we were taught was exactly right. Nor am I saying that we should judge those who do change their way of life. But I wonder if Jesus changed the way we do, would we still treat Him the same?

Restoration

Lately, most of us have reacted in sheer horror at the shootings in Colorado, and other events that destroyed lives and we feel for those who lost loved ones. 

We wonder how could they do it? What happened to make that man pull out a gun and shoot all those people. We think to ourselves, ‘if it was me I would…’  But the reality is, that except for the grace of God, we could be in the same situation, or perhaps our child might be.

I feel sorry for those who have lost their loved ones, but I do find myself wondering what must have happened in that persons life to change them so much? And then I look around at those who I grew up with, those who I attended church with. The ones who I saw with my own eyes slain in the spirit, or speaking in that heavenly language, and now the life they live would not be pleasing in God’s sight.

I realize to some extent that makes me a judge, but mostly my heart breaks for them. They don’t even seem to realize where they are in relationship to where they used to be. I want to scream to them, ‘get back to God. Don’t live that life!’ But its not up to me.

Maybe there was a change in how their mom or dad lived. Maybe they went through some adversity and instead of finding the encouragement they needed, they felt lost and alone. No one showed up to help carry their burden. The scripture says we are to help out.

‘Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.' Galatians 6:2

It is our duty to help restore our brothers and sisters, but instead many times we find ourselves whispering behind their backs. We still go to church. We still might even look the same and pay our tithes on time, but in the depths of our character, who are we?

Do we still believe it like we used to? Are we still committed to our walk with God, no matter what? Do we love our brother and sister?

What would He say if we asked Jesus, ‘who do you say I am?’

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One Moment In Time

These past couple weeks I have been scanning  photo albums and reflecting on memories from a long time ago. For most of us we have forgotten more than we ever use, and sometimes it only takes a little nudge to bring up the past. Hopefully, most of it is good.

My parents are celebrating their 50th Anniversary in July and I have been participating in the planning and getting ready for the events to take place and I have been scanning all these old photos. I have been wanting to do it for a long time now, and this is an opportunity to remember friends and family and things that happened that brought us to this moment.

Life is like that. For most of us, we tend to measure life in how many years its been, and there is nothing wrong with that. However, if you really take a few moments and think about it, life is not about years but about small moments in time that dramatically changed the path we were on. History is full of those moments where mankind was headed one direction and some small event, changed everything forever.

It’s Just One Moment In Time

Many times we do not take time to think about the moments in our life. We breeze past so many of them every single day without a thought. Perhaps it is what we might have for lunch, that item we bought at the store, or perhaps that one thing we meant to do but forgot. Oh well, we will do it tomorrow. If it was that important, we would have remembered right? 

It seems inconsequential, and so we don’t give it another thought and before long we have completely forgotten about it.  It usually takes something quite dramatic during our day for us to remember some things but if we do not do it right then, its just another lost moment we will catch up with later. It is just that one moment in time.

It we are honest, we all think that way. I was supposed to pick up that prescription, but I will get it tomorrow. I need to get new tags for the car, but I was running behind today and just didn’t have time. I really needed to get this paper done but… and before long.. just a lot of lost moments.

Most of  the things we forget are really not vitally important and time just passes by. Good things, bad things, life moments soon forgotten. If it was something we were supposed to pick up at the grocery store and we forgot, even when we had a list, we usually remember about the moment we walk through the door of our home. Usually we can get by without it. Other times we forget about these moments until something jogs our memories.

Memories

Looking at all the photographs, more than two hundred actually, a lot of good memories came cascading back to the surface. Friends, family, loved ones and those little moments of playing games, or what we were doing at that moment seems very close at hand, even when it was years ago. But did you ever stop to think about how those little moments at the time, are having a direct impact on what we are doing right now?

Those friendships you made with the family that lived across the alley from you, or perhaps that one guy who used to protect you from bullies. At the time you were hanging out and then years later you reconnect and all these moments come flooding back, the good and the bad.

Our destiny hinged on what we did in those moments. Oh at the time it didn’t seem so important maybe, but that one moment in time, where you took a left turn instead of a right, or perhaps you walked across the street and shoveled the old lady’s driveway, or maybe even that moment when you got mad and walked away from one of your best friends never to speak to them again. Memories, both good and bad  have a way of creeping back into our dreams and thoughts, sometimes when we least expect them, but they all bring us to this very moment.

We Aren’t Alone

I am certain that King David looked back on moments in his life. Maybe it was the time he slew the bear, or even Goliath. Or perhaps the loss of his child when he recalled how he had sent one of his men to his death because he had crossed into arrogance and stole his wife.

Yes, when we ask forgiveness God forgives but we all know there are moments when we do remember and look back and wonder. You know the ‘what if’s' of life. We all have them. If I could borrow a time machine for a little while, I would love to go back to a few moments in my own life and do it a bit different.  Some things in life we want to forget but the memory of man is much more intricate and can hold a lot more than a few terabytes that our current computers can handle, and we process it faster, and certain scents, images, or thoughts can take us deep into the files and we begin to analyze and ponder what might have been.

I have friends I have not seen in years, and every once in a while they are brought to mind and I wonder what they are up to. It may seem like nothing now, but they were an integral part of who I was at the time, and helped set me on the path I am today, and I wonder what became of them.

Moments Can Be Joyful

That moment you asked your wife to marry you; the birth of a child; the moment you raised your hands toward heaven and began to speak in other tongues. All joyful events with a purpose in our destiny. Over two hundred years ago some men sat in a room and signed a document making a group of tiny colonies into a country. Those few men changed the course of history for us all.

Had they not made the decision they did at the time, we would have remained a part of the British Empire, and the very fabric of our lives we consider normal would be much different. Our country that we are celebrating this July 4th, has been entered into events with purpose that has changed the course of the entire world.

Whether it was sending help to refugees in Africa, or funds and weapons, to the rebels in Libya, or even the wars we have fought in with rational or irrational reasons, we have help format what the rest of the world is today. Good or bad, whether you agree with our political leaders or not it affects us all. Yet, each thing we do begins with one moment, one thought, one action. It has made us who we are today.

Lost Moments

It was just a moment. I felt that tug on my heart to go pray with someone, but I had a headache, or perhaps I was just tired and in a hurry, so I went home instead of going to the altar with them. I haven’t seen them in church in a very long time and I have heard things, and I guess it must be true after all they don’t go here anymore.

Random thoughts can plague us, but they are soon forgotten as just another moment in time. We don’t pick up the phone to give them a call, we don’t take time to send them a letter, or even when they say hi at Wal-Mart, they are quickly forgotten again. And then we get a phone call from someone, and we find out they were in a car wreck, or perhaps they were sick, and we had planned to go visit them, but our wife needed us to run an errand as well, and while we meant to…. now it is too late. They are gone, and we will never get that moment back.

Sometimes Moments Cost

Did you ever stop to think about that? What if David had not picked up the five stones and took Goliath out? Would he have become king? Would he have been in the lineage of Jesus? It was just one moment in time where he made a decision.

And what if Jesus had said no? It was just one moment. He could have said no, I am God, I don’t want to go through this for these who curse me, deny me, and are so full of venom toward each other. I am glad He made the decision He did, but it was just one moment that took us to where we are now.

Can you remember a time when you wish you had chosen another path in life or in ministry? How about when we look back into our life, when we decided to walk away from the ministry. Are we satisfied with where our life ended up? How about the lives of our children? Are they happy? Are they living right? But it was just one moment in time, it shouldn’t matter so much. Tomorrow is another day.

A Few Defining Moments

There are entirely too many to list, but a few that will immediately stand out are listed below:

• Eve gives Adam a bite of fruit.
• Noah builds an ark.
• Moses leads his people into a wilderness
• David slays a giant
• Jonah is swallowed by a big fish
• Jesus is born, lives, and dies for our sins.
• Peter preaches on the Day of Pentecost
• We accept Him into our lives

What Are You Doing Next?

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He Came Unto His Own

The last few weeks my life has been different. No, it may not be noticeable on the surface, and some who believe they know me well might not even catch it, but something happened recently to change me.

I do not think I am a better person, or that somehow I have reached a greater plateau but one morning a few weeks ago,  I had an experience that wakes me up in the night.

I grew up in church. There were times I even fell asleep on the pew. Good times, and a few times where I didn’t really want to be there, but there are lingering memories of days gone by that molded me into the person I am today.  Is that a good thing? I am not sure some days. I am human and I have my faults, but there beats within my heart a purpose that regardless of how I feel at any given moment, I know where I belong.

I have heard the sermons of the prodigal son, the good shepherd, and the crucifixion. My eyes have been swollen with tears as my mind painted a vivid picture of Christ hanging on the cross. I saw the beating of those thirty nine stripes across his back for my healing, and at times I do not understand why I struggle with health issues because I know the power in each of those blood spattered scars upon his back.

I have heard the wails of an old saint burdened down in intercession for a lost soul. Maybe it was their child, their husband, or perhaps just the burden for the lost was so intense the moan came not just from their lips but from the utter depths of their soul.

But did any of it change me?  Yes, to a large degree I have lived my life in the shadow of the cross. I have been the good child, that never really desired to stray to far from the altar. I wanted to be about ‘my Father’s business.’

Growing up in a pastors home was not an easy life. Back then, pride was not allowed, and a self-righteous spirit would have been quickly scolded. We were taught respect for the House of God, as well as the ministry. And if we took the name of Jesus in vain, well if we didn’t get a stern look, the shame we felt later when we were closing our eyes to sleep pricked our hearts with guilt and tears would flow down as we apologized to God for our behavior.   But we were still human and we made mistakes.  I have regrets to this day of my attitude, and some things I said or did that may have changed the course of someone else’s life. If I could, I would go back and change it, but that didn’t change who I was.

Like many when they reach the teenage years I rebelled. Oh, I never really did anything of consequence, but when it came to singing solos or being part of the choir, getting up to speak was not going to be my thing. I had no desire to be a preacher. If anything, I ran from it.

Yes, I had seen the good parts, but I had seen the struggles as well of my parents, and others in my family and close to me that were ministers, and I didn’t want any part of it.  A few years later I had a different feeling about it all, but at the time I had other dreams and goals.

I did all the things I was supposed to growing up. I even took some time to go to Bible School, and met some life long friends there.  Looking back I had many experiences that would later shape my life. Moments of excitement when I would preach and see souls come to God. Instances where I would pray for someone and feel the anointing so strong and see them experience their healing.  There were many good moments of ministry, and there were some heavily burdened nights of agony when I realized that the mission was a soul, and they seemed unreachable.

The last several years have been very hard on me. Health issues as well as personal trials at times have dropped me to my knees to where I thought I could not handle anymore. I began to understand some of the conflicts with self and the flesh that surely Jesus must have felt in the garden and on the way to Calvary.

Do I think I was tried like Him? No, but some of my experiences I believe have left me uniquely aware of the agony and perhaps at times, hopeless feeling He must have had. 

Around Easter every year for the last several years, I always feel a sense of guilt and questioning.  I will never really be able to completely ignore or erase these feelings not because of what I did but because of what I did not do.

It was many years ago when I was very involved in the ministry of my church, and I had taken a night to go watch a Passion play at a local church. Our church never put on any really big program, and it was not a church night so I didn’t think it would be an issue if I went for the one performance.  Little did I know that that experience would affect me many years later.

I think I went with a couple church friends, but to be honest I do not recall any of them. The impact that was made in my memory was not about who I went with, but rather a couple events that transpired while I was there.  The production was good. It covered a good amount of Jesus’ life in small glimpses, and then was more detailed when it got to the time Christ entry into Jerusalem on a donkey (yes, they had a donkey in the church), the Last Supper, and hanging Jesus on the Cross. But the moment that stands out in my mind was the Garden of Gethsemane scene.

Even though I had grown up with this message, and spent my life trying to do the right thing, and reaching out to others even to the point of ministry, that moment in time still brings tears to me even as I write this.  I felt like I was experiencing the agony Jesus was under as He prayed for the cup to pass from Him.  Paintings of Jesus in the Garden typically show a figure of Jesus with a beam of light showing down on Him from heaven. They depict him most often in some flowing robe with a calmness about Him.

But that wasn’t the way it was in reality. This was the moment of His greatest agony. This was the moment He was most human. I believe he writhed about, sweating, crying, maybe even screaming, as He begged for the pain He knew must happen to be taken away. Perhaps there was another way for mankind to be saved?

His clothes were disheveled, probably torn, and certainly dirty as He knelt, or lay upon the ground pouring out everything He had. Maybe He walked a bit in similar fashion to many old time preachers who would pour their souls out to God against the wall of the old church building, or stood there with His eyes turned down as many do at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem.

No one really knows what it was like, but it wasn’t pretty. It was an old fashioned prayer meeting. I have been to some of those and they aren’t happy or joyful events most times, but they are burdened cries in the darkness, and stammering lips pleading with God for a soul.

The difference was, even though His closest disciples were with Him, He was all alone. At the Passion play I experienced this in living examples. I saw the agony He was going through, while those who should have spent a little more time with Him, knowing He had just given a heart rending speech to them at the Last Supper, knowing change was coming. But instead, they slept.

Looking around, He noticed, and walked over to gently wake them. He asked them to please pray with Him. He was in the hour or His greatest need, and instead of rising to the occasion, they slept. 

Have you ever really thought about that? When we pray, we are the ones asking God for something, but at this moment in His humanity, Jesus asked for something for Himself.  What if we were met with the same response when we asked of Him?

Again, He came to find them sleeping, and again asked for just a little bit of time for them to watch and pray with Him. And then finally a third time, He came to find them asleep again, and He let them sleep as the hour was that He was to be delivered unto the Priests and those that were determined to take His life.

To me, that is one of the greatest moments in the Bible.  He became most human at that moment and was in need, and those who were closest to Him, turned their backs. Yes, it is true that just a few hours later, Peter denied and even cursed Him, but this was a moment forever etched in my mind as life changing.  I recall the tears in my eyes as I realized just how alone Christ was at that very moment.  His very own people missed a huge opportunity to know Christ on another level.

A few minutes later I missed an opportunity as well, and it comes back to me every Easter.

At the end of the production, they invited people to come to the front for the ‘Sinners Prayer’ and I stayed where I was since that is not what I believe, but I recall seeing a young woman who couldn’t quite make it up to the front but was standing with tears streaming down her face, her mascara running, and obviously being moved by the spirit.

My heart told me to pray with her, but I was not a minister there, did not even believe the way most of the audience believed and so for me to step out when it ‘just wasn’t my place’ seemed like an irrational thing to do. I stayed in my pew, and saw her slowly make her way more forward and disappear into the crowd.

I will never get that moment back. I will never know what happened to that young lady.  I had a moment where I could have perhaps changed a life, and I didn’t take it. And for the rest of my life, I have to live with it.

Now, I am sure some are saying but you are taking one moment in time, and God understands. Surely, He does, but I could have made an effort. And I didn’t. I am just as guilty as the disciples who slept while Jesus poured out His soul.

He Came Unto His Own

John 1:11 states, 'He came unto His own, and His own received Him not.’ Jesus was not really accepted by his people. Sure, there were many who showed up when He was handing out miracles and doing good, but of the thousands who followed Him for teaching and miracles, only a handful were there always, and then when He needed them, they slept, they cursed, they denied they even knew Him.

Pilate wanted to let Jesus go. He saw no reason for Jesus to die. And if you notice, it wasn’t the poor, the hungry, the hurting that were screaming for Jesus to be crucified, but rather those in the ministry. It was some of those who He fed on the hillside. Perhaps one of those He stopped to hold their child as He ministered to their needs.

It was those who He encouraged and expounded the scriptures with that turned aside and even clamored for the death of Christ. Can you imagine? It wasn’t the Roman soldiers that wanted Jesus to die. It was those who were His own people. The church wanted Him gone. They didn’t like knowing He could see through their traditions and theologies. They felt threatened by what He knew and the authority at which even nature responded to His voice. They couldn’t let that continue. They had to destroy Him.

I have experienced similar behavior myself from some church leaders. Some of you know a lot of what I have been through but for the most part I keep it to myself. I haven’t ever been pushed aside by those we would call ‘the world’ or even other denominational Christians, but rather by my own people. I am certain that I am not the only one who has experienced this. If we are living the way we should and trying to make a difference in others lives, then it won’t be the outsiders or sinners that will attempt to cause us strife, but rather those that are counted among our own people.

We have preached it for years that our churches are supposed to be a hospital for the hurting, a shelter for the homeless, a comfort for those who feel alone. But instead many of our churches have become so bottled up with our own personalities and philosophies that many times, even the message of Christ does not reach the lost.

James 1:27 says, ‘Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.’

Understand this; I believe that there should be a respect for the House of God,  the ministry, and of course for Jesus Christ. I believe that some of our ideologies and even what we consider traditions were put in place for a purpose. They are not just some self-righteous rant by someone who decides that their way of living is better than the way someone else lives or dresses. There are some definite guidelines in the Bible that laid out for our direction that should not be messed with regardless of rationalization or lifestyle. Living Holy is still the way to go and it should not be compromised.

However, some have become so caught up in trying to build a dominion and grand edifices to the Lord, that they have set aside the very purpose of Christ. They have forgotten the very reason He came. He came to seek and save the lost. He came to heal and deliver. He came unto His own, and they rejected Him.

Maybe it is the Easter season and while I should be celebrating the fact that He rose again, my spirit is grieved within me.  There are situations in my personal life that trouble me, but not to the extent I wake up crying and burdened the way I am with seeing the lost upon the streets of my city.

Earthquakes, tornadoes, wars, strife all around us as the Bible says will be in the end of the age, and yet our church pews are being emptied out to make way for fellowship halls, basketball games, and to some extent open only to ‘those who can pay the cover charge.’

It seems the days when most of our churches were filled with the poor, the elderly,  and the children are quickly being taken over by those who would rather see the church as a business  or event center instead of a hospital. Many churches have went to one service on Sunday and have become so depersonalized chances are you don’t even know the other person at the end of the pew.

If Jesus were to walk through the back door would He even know it was a service? Or would He feel displaced because there was no one there like Him?

See Jesus was a homeless drifter. I know how that sounds, but He said, ‘Foxes have holes,  and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man hath no where to lay his head.’  Luke 9:58

And He came unto His own…

How many missed opportunities have we had? Are we losing sight of being a witness, or even just encouraging our brother and sister? Are we too busy to even notice the soul that is nearly gone? Not just the ones on the street corners, but the ones sitting next to us in the pew?

A few weeks ago, I was changed. I have noticed a greater number of people on the streets begging for money or work with their signs. It never used to be a common sight where I live. The few we saw were quickly rationalized to be drug addicts or lazy, and most quickly drove past.

At times, I have actually seen some who have turned begging on the street corner into a business. I watched one climb out of his motorhome, walk over to the corner with his cardboard sign, and stand there hoping someone would give him money.  My spirit wanted to tell him to go find work, but most of the time I didn’t really slow down I just kept driving.  But then one day it was different.

I was headed to Wal-Mart to buy a few groceries and as I rounded the corner I saw him. He was wrapped in several blankets pushing an old shopping cart filled with various odds and ends, and holding a small sign that simply said, ‘I’m Hungry.’ He was straight out of a movie, with a greying matt of hair and beard, an old stocking cap, and worn shoes. I don’t know how far he had come because I had never seen him there again.

I never really slowed down until I got to the doors of the store and I felt pricked in my heart. I had seen countless begging on that same corner and felt nothing, but this time was different.  Payday was quite a ways off, and the amount of money I had at the moment was meager but I couldn’t shake it. I was headed to the back to get my few items as usual, and on the way to the front I put most of them down except for the carton of water and went over to where they sell sandwiches.  I picked out one I would like and headed back outside.

I looked off into the distance where he had been standing and he was gone.  I knew I had to do something, so I went a few blocks out of my way to find him. I got out the vehicle, approached him with a sandwich and one of the water bottles. A tear came to his eye and he stuttered out, ‘Bless You.’

As I got back into my vehicle and drove off I felt different. I am not saying this to brag, and it brings tears to my eyes just reflecting on it, but in that old homeless mans eyes were a gratefulness that I hadn’t seen from anyone in a really long time. I felt guilty because I am not more grateful for what I have.  Sure, like anyone I have trials and tests. I have bills to pay, situations that only God can handle, but I should be more grateful. I should be spending more time worshipping and being loving and kind. I am striving to do better, but I know it’s a process. It won’t happen overnight. But I am changing.

See what I learned was this, ‘It isn’t a sacrifice unless I have to give something of myself to make a difference.’  I should be more willing to sacrifice after all Christ sacrificed everything when He took on Calvary, for me.

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The Real Winner

Today I watched football, and I wanted Denver to win. They have been ‘my team’ long before the phenomenon of Tim Tebow.

I’ll admit that over the past few weeks I have become impressed with this guy.  It almost seems like someone wrote a script on how we would like to see our sports heroes behave.

I do not know him in person, and granted most of what I find out is either online or on some other form of media, but to some degree this guy almost seems too good to be true; almost as if he is just playing a part in some grand theater performance. He seems genuine though.

Who Is Tim Tebow?

If you haven't heard, he is the quarterback for the Denver Broncos. I wrote about him a little, a few weeks back on my other blog.  He has proven leadership abilities both on an off the field.

This past week, and even a little before that, people have been emulating the way he prays, commenting on his life, making jokes, and some like myself have been a bit impressed.

I became more impressed today.

I Was Sick…

It is part of a scripture from Matthew 25. I was sick and ye visited me, hungry and you fed me, and so on and so forth.Today I found out that Tim brings at least one disabled, terminal, or otherwise impaired teen or child with him to each game. Not the same person, but different ones. And not just in home games but even the away games.

Tim spends time with them before the game, takes photos, gives them football gear, even takes interviews with them beside him.  The joy was shown today in the eyes of one young girl.

I am not sure what her condition was called, but you could tell she was very happy, and he spent a great deal of time with her before the game. He mentioned to a commentator that instead of going to the locker room and psyching himself up, he spends time with one of these individuals before the game, and uses that to get himself fired up. He affects change in peoples lives while doing his job.

No Better Than…

He also mentioned that his parents taught him that he is no better than anyone else as a young child. He said even though he is looked upon as something wonderful by so many people, he is only doing his job, and he is no more special than then mail man, fireman, or grocery store clerk.

He honestly seems a bit uncomfortable in interviews because he doesn’t get why they think he is that great. Oh, and did I mention he prays and is a true Christian?

No, don’t run away, this posting is not about Tim Tebow. Well, it is, but hang on.. I am getting there.

Uncomfortable Grace

Today on his Facebook page, Tim posted Romans 8:37-39. In all things we are ‘more than conquerors… nothing shall separate us from the love of God.’

This was several hours before the playoff game to determine if the Broncos would win another level on the way to the Super Bowl game.  I even saw a poll where 41% of people were thinking that God wanted Denver Broncos to win with Tebow. Odds were that they would go all the way, and some had even bet money on it.

But when it comes to talking about himself, Tim always seems to turn the conversation to someone else. The team, the disabled person he brought to the game, even God. God always comes up in any conversation with him.

He could be telling everyone how wonderful he is, but instead he uses humility and grace to turn the conversation to someone else. And he does the same thing on or off the field.

Ego & Bravado vs Humility & Grace

The other quarterback that played today is a far different story. He seems to thrive more on the publicity, even controversial, and he truly believes he is as good as his handlers say. Oh, and he is married to a supermodel, so perhaps some of his ego is deserved.

Now, I don’t know Tom Brady either, but in every interview I have seen, he thinks he is an important as everyone around him says. He is also pretty good at football, and so I guess somewhat deserved, but on and off the field he shows his ego and bravado.  So, of course the media loves him.

I have even seen some people compare the two quarterbacks to evil versus good.  I don’t think that is entirely true, but there is some truth there.

Tom shows his ego and bravado. Tim shows humility and grace.

The Difference

I said this wasn’t going to be about football, or Tim Tebow and it  isn’t. I want to show the difference, not between the men, but between humility and ego, bravado and grace.

• The Bible says that  we shouldn’t be arrogant or proud. It even says that true love doesn’t puff itself up.
• Humility will always give others first choice, while ego will take first, or get upset and angry. Humility loves.
• Grace will always accept the situation, no matter the outcome, while bravado is all about winning. Grace says I can still do it, and there will be a next time.

Evil Sometimes Wins

Now, I am not saying that all ego is evil, or that being brave is not a good thing. It has its place. However, it almost always has the attitude that it will win or else someone will pay for it.

I don’t think Jesus wants us to just hide in the darkness, but humility and grace always puts others ahead of self. Its not about ‘How I am doing, it is about how are you?’

Don’t get me wrong, I would love to win more. I would love to have my way sometimes, just as much as you do, and sometimes I succeed.

But sometimes we lose, and the worst can happen.

The Purpose of Evil

Again, I am not saying that if my team didn’t win, the other team cheats, or that God should just fix it so I always get my way.

The truth is we need difficulty in our lives.  We need times where we don’t get everything we want. We need those times, even when they are hard, where we ask, “Why did God allow this?’

It is in our struggles, or evils, that we learn how to stand. We gain strength, we learn how to trust God. We go through a testing period, either for ourselves, or for a purpose God has in mind down the road.  If there was no trial, test, problem, evil as it were, we wouldn’t have strength, we wouldn’t set goals, we would just go through life without purpose. We would never grow.

Accepting The Circumstance

• We can call it many things; trial, test, tribulation, situation, circumstance, evil, more terms could follow meaning the same thing

Why would God allow this? Why didn’t he do this for me? We hear those kinds of questions all the time, and even say them ourselves at times.

And don’t get me wrong, there are times that accepting what has happened can be very hard. I realize that. There are times when it takes all we have to keep trusting God, and sadly, there are many who do not make it, but instead fall into things, that in a former life, they would never been caught even close to.

But we can be sure of a couple of things.

• If we fall we can choose to get up.
• Evil only wins for a short time and then it is gone.

Change Happens

Whatever the circumstance that knocks us down is, it can only prevail for a little while. It isn’t permanent.  Bravado and ego is the same way.

It is true that sometimes ego is going to win, but it is not long term, and it has a purpose to make us stronger.

However, humility and grace have a lasting effect. It touches more lives, it changes them, and makes things better. He wasn’t lying when He said His ‘grace is sufficient, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.’

Ego touches one person for a short time, humility changes lives, possibly eternally.

No one was ever so humble as Christ himself, yet he took on the shame and reproach of the cross that we might win.

He could have come out and said I am God; zap someone with fire or a lightning bolt; go back up into Heaven; and be happy with us going through the motions. Being robotic, just doing what we are told, getting what we need, not striving to achieve anything else. But no, He is the God of humility.

Romans 8:37-39

So, we didn’t win the game today.  Being more than conquerors doesn’t mean that God will give us the ability to always be right, always win, always get what I want. 

That scripture means that no matter what happens, good or bad, we are still more than conquerors, and nothing can separate us from His Love.

So, Who Wins?

James 4:6 says, ‘But he giveth more grace. Wherefore he saith, God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble.’

Grace to the humble and God resists the proud. Who wins?

As I am sure most of our mothers have told us at sometime, ‘It isn’t whether you win or lose, but its how you play the game.’ How profound!

Humility and Grace for the WIN!

#Winning

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More Than...

In the church I attend in Alaska one of the duties I have is leading prayer meetings and give direction on what I have learned, or am learning about prayer. Sometimes, I talk about how to pray, but each month I also write a newsletter in which I attempt to give some keys or insight to a greater prayer life. I had planned to do the same this month, but the Lord woke me up in the middle of the night with this message and I would like to share it with you.

We would have to be locked up in some closet not to recognize that this is the holiday season. Our lives are filled with spending time with family and friends, running to the stores, pushing our way thru the crowds, or even getting up entirely too early to attempt to get that one item that Walmart has marked down in a marketing scheme to get us in the door. They may only have one of two of these items that are gone first thing as the crowd pushes their way in, but it gets us in the doors, and then we end up spending more than we can afford on items we won't even remember a week or two after Christmas is over, with the exception of the bills.

It is also the time of year, when regardless of our personal religious beliefs, we can find displays and ornaments, and our thoughts turn to the birth of Christ. I realize we can get easily caught up in all the commercialization, Santa Claus, and all the amazing food items that never seem to be out except at this time of year, but for most of us we also remember the baby in the manger.

When Jesus was born it wasn't in a hospital; he didn't have doctors, and Mary didn't go through prenatal classes. There wasn't a sterile room with rubber gloves and gowns abundant. He didn't even have a midwife to deliver him. The bible doesn't specify who delivered Jesus, but only exclaims that he was born. We know he was born in a borrowed stable. We know that they laid him in a manger which the reality is, was the place the cattle got their food. He didn't have pressed linen sheets, or even a pillow. He will forever be known as the baby in the manger. For some of us, that is all we see him as, just the baby in the manger. Saints been down in awe to this baby; this icon of what is good about all of us before we are corrupted with cares of life, and we esteem him as a miracle and perfect. While we all seem amazed by his birth, some of us stop right there and never see him as anything else, but he is so much more than the baby in the manger.

Scripture and tradition teach us that Joseph was a carpenter, and thus when Jesus came of age it was only common for the sons to learn the trade of their father. Jesus probably spent untold hours sweeping, sanding, putting together wood to make something of use. In those days, carpenters not only helped in construction of housing, but also in the very furniture that would be in that house. Jesus may have had his own work bench where he would carve, saw, and hammer a piece of wood into something of use. Perhaps he made chairs or tables, and many of his day only saw him as the carpenter's son. He was so much more than a carpenter's son though, and history has told us so.

We read that he went about doing good, teaching in the synagogues and on the hillsides. He astounded the teachers and theologians at an early age with his knowledge of laws and scripture. There are many passages that speak of him as a rabbi, or teacher, and he could tell stories with the best taking the examples from life as he would instruct those who listened in steps to lead a productive, successful life. He taught so even the little children could understand how they should go about their day and grow into adulthood with purpose. If he was alive today, I am certain he would be on the best seller list, and people would buy his self help books to go on the shelf with all the other wisdom that ends up there. He was a great teacher, and some would spend hours, go without food even just to hear him teach, but he was so much more than just a teacher.

Some didn't come to hear him teach, but rather to see what he would do. To many he was a magician, a seer, a miracle worker. They came to watch the show, or perhaps even be involved in it. We read with astonishment and maybe even a smile about the time he fed the five thousand, or when he raised Jarius daughter from the dead. See, they knew where to come when they had problems, when they didn't know where else to turn. Even his closest flowerers, his disciples, whom he would teach more in-depth, who should have realized that he was giving them a great gift, saw him many times as just the one who could fix things when they were in trouble. To most, he was just the one who did the miracles, but he was so much more than the miracle worker.

I have had a copy of the passion movie on my desk for more than a year. I have planned to watch it. I have heard many stories about how close the real deal it must have been. The scenes of agony and and powerful testament of what took place has been shown by Hollywood to be more real than ever before. I like anyone else have seen bits and pieces online, but I often wonder why I never seem to have time to watch the movie. It has went with me on several airline flights but remained in my bag, and someday I will watch it, but he is so much more than just the depiction of his struggles with humanity and praying in the garden, tempted and abused by the people of his day.

We can read the passages of scripture ourselves, where he wanted someone to just pray with him for an hour when the religious right of his day conspired with the government to do away with this man that is upsetting their plans. We read about how he was beaten, carried his own cross up a criminal's trail to a hill where they hammered nails into his hands and feet and stuck him in a hole, naked before all humanity, to die for his transgressions of trying to help others. History has cleaned up the story; it was so much more brutal than we can imagine, and they have given us and image of this pretty cross with a man hanging on it dressed in some sort of garment as he died there on Golgotha.

I can relate with most people as to the power of the cross, and many of us have preached about it, and some religious entities have made the cross into an icon that they hang on the wall, wear around their neck, or put in a place of honor in their cathedrals. They look to the image of a man hanging on a cross to find strength in times of trouble, to restore hope, and as a companion, while most of the time, the words of this man sit idly on a shelf somewhere collecting dust. At Christmas, or any time of the year you can find all sorts of icons, images, idols of Jesus on the cross, or the cross itself as a reminder of what he did for us. While it is a powerful image, he isn't that little idol; he isn't on that cross you carry around, and even though he died on a cross and we all know he rose again, he is so much more than the man on the cross.

Most of us make an effort to attend some sort of worship service each week, where we will sing, pray, listen to someone talk about some passage in the bible that is usually meant to be uplifting and a way to feel the humanity of Jesus. We tell the different bible stories of old, how David killed the giant, Jonah and his big fish, Jesus walking on the water. We sing songs praising his name, his blood, the significance of the price he paid as we embrace who he was, and how his life has changed the destiny of most who listen. A lot of us get this idea that if we go to church on Sunday, and listen to the preacher then we become good people, and of course good people go to heaven. There were times when we listened and our hearts were pierced with the suffering of our savior, but these days of more modern influences, it has become more about the social aspects, the gathering together, and perhaps the prayer for our needs. We reflect on Jesus, and we have ministers who can make him come alive with stories, but the truth of the matter is Jesus is more than what we do on Sunday.

I am sure by now, some are a bit rattled in what I am writing, and yes I do believe he is all of these things. I myself have known him as a healer. I depend on him to supply my needs. The scriptures tell us to. We are taught to cast our cares on him; trust in the Lord with all our might; if we have a need to take it to him. Growing up in a preacher's home I saw many miracles over the years. Broken bodies have been healed by the power of his name; families have been put back together; in times of dire financial straits, somehow the money has just been there. Even now I pray for my own healing and restoration of my body, spirit, life, and ministry after some terrible circumstances have changed my life forever. I pray for my family and friends, all the while believing that God is going to give them what they need. God has shown me revival in churches soon to come. He has showed me that certain people I know are going to be healed to such a magnitude that right now they are not able to comprehend it. He has shown me things that are set to transpire in my own life, that even I have a hard time accepting. He is so many things to all of us, and yet he is so much more.

More than...
a baby in a manger
a carpenter's son
a good teacher
a prophet
a miracle worker
the man on the cross
the one who rose again
an image on a cross
strength in need
something to do on Sunday
a song or message
a memory of what he has done
a celebration time
even more than our savior
anything we can imagine

He is still more...

It is easy in our circumstances or trials to forget how powerful Jesus really is. Sometimes we become so complacent with the day to day, that we forget him. Even when we are doing good ourselves helping humanity, leading others to him, we can sometimes forget just who he really is.

I used to sing specials in church and there were times when I would feel God leading me to minister in song to let others know he is there. One of my favorite songs was "More than Enough." My dad would play the piano, and I would sing and I would see tears on even the most wounded spirit as they remembered that he really is enough to take care of their circumstance. Many times if we are not in the midst of the trial, then we tend to overlook the power of his deity, the strength he gives in the midst of the storms and that welcome hug when we have nowhere else to turn to. If we haven't been thru times of crisis, we cannot really appreciate just how "More than.." he really can be.

I used to hear people talk about how Jesus was this or that, and many times to me I didn't fully get it. I knew he could do anything; I knew he healed; I knew he supplied; I knew he saved, but I didn't fully grasp just how 'more than..' he really was until I faced hardships in my own personal life. Faced with situations in which I had no control I agonized over how I was going to make it. It seemed just when one part of life got better another part got worse, and it has been a long battle. There have been days I thought I couldn't get out of bed anymore; days where I questioned God and his methods; situations where I really just felt like giving up. I still face things that I don't have the answers to, I don't know the outcome, and can be very fearful. However, in the midst of all of this, there is a depth in God that I feel that I could not have known had I not been thru that trial.

I know some are going thru devastating illness and burdens that seem to have no end, but I am living proof to say, he is More than Enough.

He's more than enough, more than enough,
He is el shaddi, the God of plenty,
The all sufficient one, God almighty,
He is more than enough.

No matter the trial you are in, no matter the questions you have about God, no matter what others might think about God, He is more than enough for any situation. He is more than just a baby in a manger.

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