Generation: LOST

My heart has been troubled to the point of not sleeping well the last few weeks.  I suppose, one could attribute it to the headlines in the media regarding the coming election,  or perhaps to the stories of missing children who we later hear have been brutally murdered. And yes, that does trouble me.

However, for me, the haunting images that are keeping me awake at night have more to do with the lack of respect for God’s word. It seems as though many have decided that the principles that we were taught to adhere to, and the scriptures that set us toward our eternal destiny only matter if we choose it to.

It seems as if the fear of God is gone and that it was only words our parents and those who have gone before lived by.  In society and in our churches there is a growing lack of concern about the direction those coming behind us are heading. And it just might be too late.

Now, I realize I cannot speak for the church you attend or the places you minister, but nevertheless I am certain the principles I see unraveling in front of my eyes, I am sure you are noticing as well.

Blinded Eyes?

For quite a while now I have burdened with what I have seen in social media. Nearly everyone we know in our personal lives is on Facebook, and we all know people who are on the site several hours per day.  And for many the images and postings tell quite a story.

It amazes me that many of those I went to Bible School with are either no longer living for God, or have ascribed to some watered down version of what Christianity is all about, to say nothing about being Apostolic.  Oh sure, most of them still quote scripture, they still profess their love for God, but when our eyes are privy to some of the words they write, and see photos of the places they go and the way they act, there is something missing there.

Am I judging? I don’t mean to be, but maybe I am. However, I am the first to admit my life is not perfect, but I find myself wondering what happened in their lives to change them as a person?  Was there some huge even that came into their lives and knocked them off the track?

Many of these are people I grew up with; those who were in the altars at church camp, those who even the very idea of activities they partake in now were considered abhorrent and yet somehow all of that hunger for God we once knew seems to have slipped out somehow.

Now I realize some may think some of what we learned when we were younger was too dogmatic,  too harsh, perhaps not even necessary in living for God. But, it kept most of us going to church, doing the right thing when temptations would come, and most importantly, loving and serving God. It couldn’t have been all bad, right?

The Bible says to ‘train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.’ Not my words, that is scripture and it does more than just affect you and me. Can our kids even quote a memory verse anymore?

From the beginning of time, mothers taught their children the principles of loving and serving God.  Moses is a great example of how because of what he was taught when he was young, when he was older, he was able to continue in his faith and even lead his people toward the promise land. I am sure Joseph’s early childhood teaching  kept him from giving in to temptation, fear, and hatred, even when he had been treated unjustly by his own flesh and blood.

But what about our kids? What did we teach them? Or what are we teaching them now?

Seared Minds?

Just this past week there was a study that came out that stated most of the divorces in America come from those who call themselves Christian and conservative. In fact they said  in ‘Christian’ marriages, two out of five with end in divorce, and also that there are multiple marriages among Christian believers.

Their reasoning behind it was because we are taught not to be involved in sexual encounters outside of marriage and so they claim that many are unprepared when they enter into their first marriage young, rather than disregard their belief system.  Now, to some extent that is good that some are not wanting to go against their beliefs, but to get married essentially just to be legal at being sexually active is no way to start a marriage. And whatever happened to the vows we took to love, honor, and cherish in sickness and in health? Are those just archaic words that don’t mean anything? Whatever happened to working on our marriages?

Now please understand me, I am not attacking those who end up in divorce. But, it seems the way the world is going, so should the church. Lets just take the easy way out.

The divorce rate is not what is bothering me but what are we teaching our children? It has become what are we getting out of this?

In our lives we have become about who has the biggest house, who has the most toys, who lives the best life, even who loves God more. We are consumed with ourselves instead of hungering after God.  Whatever happened to convictions?

Our worship is just enough to get by; our church attendance is only if it doesn’t affect our fishing trip; or perhaps if we don’t have to get home in time to see the ‘reality’ of Honey Boo Boo, hoarders, and the messed up lives of those on television.

It Is Just Too Hard

It may have seemed when we were growing up that our parents didn’t understand or perhaps they were too hard on us. Every generation believes that.  There were times when our parents, and even teachers, said no, and didn’t let us do some things that they knew were bad for us.

Our families had dinner together, some of us even had a family altar, and we even played games and spent time just  being a family.

We wanted to hang out with our friends, to go to a party, even to stay up a little bit later; they were so mean to us. And for some of us the idea of being ‘forced’ to go to church, yes you know that is what you thought at times’ was just a violation of our rights, and we swore we would be better parents.

Yet, most of us who lived that lifestyle are not in prison, we haven’t killed someone driving drunk, we don’t live a life of poverty brought on by drugs and alcohol. We still go to church even if our kids don’t go with us.

Comfort and convenience is what drives our lives.  Hungry? Instead of taking time to make a dinner for our family to sit down, we rush out to grab a couple of hamburgers on their way to somewhere else.

That new iPhone comes out and instead of paying the money on our past due bills, we stand in line for hours, maybe even days to be the first to have the new and ‘best’ toy.

Everything needs to be in a hurry. Kids grow up not knowing how to cook anything that isn’t in the microwave because that is the way their parents lives have become as well. If we see some clothing outfit we want, or want to go see the newest blockbuster, we will break out the credit card to pay for it, because right now we don’t have the money but it is so important for us to possess.

Our lives are driven by the newest thing, the best sports game, where we will shout until we cannot speak, but when it comes time to have a family altar, or even time to sit down with our kids and help them with homework, we are just too busy and do not have time for that.

And Yet We Wonder?

I am troubled because I have seen some kids, who from birth drooled and slept on church pews, who no longer serve God at all, even though their parents still attend the local shouting church, and they have walked away from what they are taught, and it has become cool to have a baby or two and not be married.

I was talking with someone recently, and they asked me what has happened that when a young apostolic couple begin to date, one or both of them think it is okay to be sexually active, while dating?  To them its just another part of trying to find the right one. But then they will come to church, sit on the pews, sing in the choir, maybe even teach Sunday School, and then everyone is shocked that she is pregnant and he is dating someone else, and she is shunned by those around her?

But it is more than just about losing some of our convictions. It is more than just about what the parents teach their kids away from the church.

Generation: LOST

We can rationalize our actions, maybe even our services as we turn a blinded eye to what is happening. And maybe, for most of us, we will still make heaven, and do not do anything that can be construed as sin.  I wonder when we walk through the doors of the sanctuary, whether in our churches or in our personal prayer lives if we have a format we adhere to, or do we come hungry and lose ourselves for a while in the presence of our Creator? 

Do we find time to really worship and not be concerned with what our neighbor is doing, or are we busy making sure that our kids are minding, or noticing the one who comes in late and the new outfit they are wearing.

Or maybe it has just become about preserving our dignity in front of our friends? But what are we teaching those who come after us? I have friends and relatives who profess to love and serve God, but I see the direction their kids lives have taken and I wonder how did it get so far off track?

Sure, we are all responsible for our own salvation, but we must admit that some of the responsibility must fall to the parents, pastors, and others who went before. We might even still invite friends or people we work with to church, but what about the next generation? What about our own kids?

So What Comes Next?

There was a time when pray in schools was just as common as the Pledge of Allegiance, and even that is disappearing. Our own president doesn’t think it necessary to put his hand over his heart when everyone around him is and someone is reciting the pledge or singing ‘The Star Spangled Banner.’  It has been said that our children will pick up our bad habits and bring in some of their own as they become adults. What will they pass down to their children?

Our country is changing rapidly and regardless of your political persuasion, not for good.  Most people live their lives wanting their own way and if they don’t get it, they will do what they can to change everyone’s rights to make sure it happens. Gas prices are  too high and soon going to be out of reach, jobs are scarce, and more people are becoming dependent on someone else giving them a handout.

Our schools teach principles that are opposed to the word of God, and when someone comes along to offer possible solutions, he is called a liar and trying to take away their liberties. And I realize some are active and will get angry when they remove the Ten Commandments from in front of a court house, or try to take Christ out of Christmas, but we don’t have a time to get together with our families unless it is in front of a television? 

What happens when we are gone? What if our kids suddenly had to live in a situation like Joseph, or perhaps Daniel and the Three Hebrew Children? Would they be serving God or bowing down to the gods of this world? Or are they already there? Can you say with assurance that you know if something happened to your children, they would make heaven their home? Or how about your grandchildren?

What are we doing to prepare them for the coming trials and tests of life? Or do we even still tell them about the goodness of God and His mercies? Or do we just accept them as they are because we don’t want to chase them away and accept that they will be Generation: LOST?

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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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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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Disposable People

I have been thinking about this topic for sometime now, and lately the relevance of the idea has become paramount in my own life, so I feel like I should say something.

All of us like to think we matter. Whether it is on our jobs, at church, or at least in our own families, we want to know we count. However, there is a perception that seems to evade many of us, that some people are, well, to put it in the easiest terms, not needed.

It seems society places such a huge stigma on certain people and if you do not fit the image that they expect of you, you simply are not needed; not even wanted sometimes. I know many of us at one time or other have felt like we were not wanted, but truth is we like to hide behind our fears and our insecurities and not even think we are the ones they are talking about.

Magazines, movies, television, and now even apostolics have placed us all in boxes based on our appearances, money, or other criteria. We look at people based on preconcieved ideas of who they must be based on our perceptions of what we have heard, or our own prejudices of certain features of life, and all of us are guilty of this in some fashion or other.
We like to think and rationalize our behavior by using other criteria to categorize people, but in the back of our mind we know what we really think. Let's be real here. "That person is too fat, too ugly, wears their hair funny, or doesn't wear the latest fashion, so they cannot possibly be as good me."

I laughed the other day when my son came home wearing clothes my mother would have thrown away when I was growing up because they looked like they came from the bottom of the rag bag. We wouldn't have been caught dead in clothes like that because we may have been considered poor, and we couldn't have that. My son, on the other hand was wearing clothes that were brand new. He bought them at the store that way, and paid entirely too much for them! But that is the style that is accepted now, and he wanted to fit in. I can relate to that, all of us want to fit in, but what about those people who do not fit the stereotypical criteria, do we exclude them just because they may not look, or act, like us?

Yes, we do. All of us are guilty of this on some level. Maybe we do not want to sit by the fat man on the bus because there is a chance he may smell, or near the mother with the baby on the airplane, because we want to have a good trip, and that doesn't include a crying baby next to us. Some of us would cross the street, rather than come close to someone of a different ethnic background, and most of us wouldn't even think of venturing in certain parts of town, because, well, that is where the bad, "insert ethnic group here", poor, druggies, drunks, live. We base our feelings based solely on who we think people are. Sometimes, we are afraid of people just because they look or act different.

This is never going to change. Society is always going to place stereotypes on certain people. The sad thing though, this same attitude has become pervasive in the church, and yes, even in the apostolic, pentecostal movement. If people do not fit our mold, we assign them a type, and we don't fellowship, associate, or God forbid, allow them to participate in our services. This is a travesty, and I am certain God is not proud of us.

We have become the Levite, willing to pray for the sick, hurt, abused, outsider, but we will not cross the street to see if we can help somehow. It is killing our churches, and it will change us all.

The scripture says, "I looked for one to stand in the gap, and didn't find one." That is the generation we live in. We are blessed, no doubt, and we think we have the best preachers, singers, teachers, that money can buy. Yes, I said that money can buy, because some churches base who is good enough to be even a praise singer, based on how much money they put in the offering or how much tithe they pay. Yes, it is a fact. It shouldn't be, but it is.

Countless churches build edifaces to themselves on the notion that they are building for revival. They take man-made objects and elevate the style of the building, and yes, even the style of worship on what they percieve is what is wanted in this 'contemporary society.' They call themselves apostolic, because Pentecostals have become more mainstream and even trinity, and they cannot possibly be associated with that. How arrogant we have become, in our standards and attitudes about others.

There are many churches created solely from people who have been hurt, and yet we claim God can heal, deliver, etc and that He is bringing revival while people who have gone to church for decades are headed out the door in marital problems, financial issues, or simply because they have realized no one really cares about them. I know I sound angry. I am!

The prophets of old were angry when they saw the people of God breaking the very rules of God simply because it wasn't the way they wanted to live. We have joined society in pushing aside people and our excuse is they must not have had a great relationship with Christ. Really? Just this past week someone told me the reason for a situation in a family was because they were in rebellion against the pastor. I asked how they knew that, and the lady talking to me, said "Honey, everyone knows they were out of line, just ask anyone in our church." Appalling.

Jesus came to heal, save, and deliver, but we have taken his message and used it to puff ourselves up; create cliques; and decide who is worthy of the blood. I am ashamed for everytime, I have thought of approaching someone to just be nice, and walked away because, they were fat, or weren't dressed right. How can we win the lost, or even be Godly ourselves if we categorize people?

We cannot.

Do you realize that had Jesus been born in our generation, he wouldn't have been allowed in our pulpits?

He was concieved in an unmarried woman, and so automatically some would have looked down on her. He came and made himself of none effect; in other words he chose to be born in a family that did not have wealth. His earthly parents made do with what they had, or worked hard. Even in the bible he wasn't considered a 'man of God.' They called him the carpenter's son. He did not many miracles amongst his own because of their unbelief in his power. Appalling I know, but in reality, we wouldn't have treated him any better.

There are always discussions about whether Jesus had a beard or long hair. He walked everywhere, or caught a ride, because he didn't own his own transportation. He didn't even own property, and slept wherever he could find rest.

Homeless!

He is the one we serve, and yet we won't show up to donate food most of the time to foodbanks, let alone give a homeless man a sandwich. I could go on and on, but I think you can get my point.

Jesus said 'inasmuch as you have done it unto others you have done it unto me.'

This doesn't just apply to feeding the hungry, but it also applies to those who are hurting, or perhaps have an unused ministry.

Why, preachers, pastors, do we not use the tools, talents, abilities God has given us? I know of ministers who have been pastors for years, and are now cast aside like yesterday's leftovers, while we bring in people without anointing to be the ministers. I was told by a friend of a pastor who uses his backslidden sons for his worship leaders when he knows the night before they were playing in a dance band at a local bar? WHAT?

It has been a long time, since I heard some elderly sister wail in the corner for lost souls. It has been a long time, since the value of people was not based on what they wore, or how they looked, but it was based on how they worshipped.
Gone are the days when we labored in the altar for one soul who might need Christ. Now, it seems as soon as the message is over, we are already at the local fast-food place in our minds, and the altars are empty.

I know all churches are not like this, but there are so many that are, that I wonder when Christ does come will he find us watching, or checking out a menu at McDonalds?

Where is our burden? We preach about soul winning, revival, and loving our neighbor, while we wipe our hands with antibacterial handcream after shaking hands, if we even do? Have we know faith, no compassion left?

I don't know about you, but I don't want to be lost! Jesus said to go after the halt, the lame, the poor, the wretched, that his house may be full. I don't know when it became how much you can put in the offering made a difference in the eyes of Jesus. He said the least shall be the greatest, and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted, and yet those with their heads bowed, sometimes in shame because they do not have the best, or cannot put much in the offering are looked at as less than good enough people. Disposable people.

Does anyone call them up when they miss a few services? Does anyone remember their name?

When he comes, there are going to be many who say, 'didn't we do this, or that in thy name?' He is going to shake his head sadly and say, 'I don't know you.' It really isn't what big thing we do for Christ, although that is what we say. It isn't the amount of money we put in the offering. It isn't whether or not we look the part. It isn't even if we can preach good.

It is whether we have done what we could to lift our brother who is hurting. It is whether or not we have called the lonely, or taken them out for a hamburger. It is the ones, that stoop low, and wash their brother's dirty feet, and give a blanket to the widow woman that are going to be sitting there next to Jesus on that day; the ones who have done to the least of these, have done it unto me.

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