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Have I ever mentioned that I won't buy Girl Scout cookies? That's right. When those adorable little girls come to the door in their cute little brown outfits, I just smile and say no thanks.
It's my personal conviction. I simply cannot stomach giving money to an organization that has been taken over by radical feminists and supports Planned Parenthood.
Related to this is to today's Boundless article called "Basketball Jesus" by George Halitzka. It's about how Christians often have varying degrees of conviction about issues like politics, alcohol, R-rated movies, and when, and when not to, boycott something. Have you ever met folks who think R-rated movies are a tool of the devil? Or setting foot inside a bar is sinful, and voting Democrat means supporting baby-killers? If you ever question the views of those "Super-Saints," they'll cheerfully tell you how unspiritual you are.
Maybe on the flip side, you've encountered Believers who vote straight Democrat (because Big Oil has Republicans in their back pocket). They enjoy slasher movies and have nothing against a good chugging contest. When you wonder about their shady lifestyle, they scoff at your "legalism."
For 2000 years, Christians have argued over stuff that isn't covered in the Bible — only the topics have changed. In ancient Corinth, the disagreement was over meat.
Though I'd argue the sanctity of life is covered in the Bible, I do get his meaning. So go ahead and buy your box of Thin Mints, I won't judge. Really, I won't. As a matter of fact, my father-in-law often has them in his pantry. And I'll even enjoy one once in awhile when I'm visiting.
There are many crises in the world to worry about, and at times it's easy to become overwhelmed. I'm sure many Boundless readers have causes that they're deeply devoted to and support, so I'm not going to suggest you change where the Lord might lead you.
But let me suggest something to think about. The word genocide is thrown around too lightly these days, but a case can be made for a real genocide going on today in the Darfur region of Sudan. It's a slow-motion genocide, receiving limited attention in the press because of the logistical difficulties of reporting from one of the most desolate places on earth and because of the very real danger of death at the hands of the genocidal perpetrators -- the government of Sudan in Khartoum.
The roots of the Darfur tragedy are long and deep, but here is a good, succinct summary. For a more disturbing, firsthand look, though, I highly recommend you view the movie The Devil Came on Horseback and read the accompanying book by Brian Steidle. (The film and book take their title from the name of the government-sponsored Arab militias that terrorize the people of Darfur: the janjaweed. The word means "devil on horseback" in Arabic.) Warning: the film contains some very disturbing images and content, but I think we owe it to ourselves to look this evil square in the eye in order to understand it -- and confront it.
Nearly 10 years ago, when I reported on the war and slave-trading in southern Sudan, I became despondent that so few people in the world seemed to care. But I realized my vision was too narrow. Through the patient efforts of many people, a peace treaty was signed in 2004, and while the people of southern Sudan still live in tenuous circumstances, they at least are not having to dodge bombs and bullets.
I was mere days away from flying into Darfur back in 2006, but the situation deteriorated rapidly with the removal of African Union troops, and the janjaweed started targeting aid workers, so my trip was cancelled. But I'm able to keep up with developments and support the people of Darfur through the Save Darfur coalition.
Please check out the situation for yourself. And if the Lord so leads, please pray for and support the people of Darfur.
He stood at the stoplight at the bottom of the freeway exit ramp. Dirty, disheveled, most if not all of his worldly possessions in a few bags at his feet. He held a scrawled cardboard sign: "Homeless: Just tryin' to survive."
I watched him from about four cars back. Interesting touch, I thought, making note of the dropped "g." With an apostrophe, no less! That's when my son spoke up: "Why isn't anyone giving him money?"
Why, indeed? Had I become so jaded that I took it for granted that no one gives money to beggars on street corners?
It's a common dilemma. I lived and worked in Manhattan in the mid-'80s, during the height of the crack epidemic. One encountered three or more dirty, disheveled beggars on every block, each holding the ubiquitous blue-and-white Greek coffee shop paper cup. When I first moved to the city, I was genuinely torn as I walked down the street; even if I was so inclined, I did not have enough money to give to everyone who asked. In those first days, I put a few quarters in a few cups. But a few days later I saw one of my beneficiaries staggering down the street, drunk out of his mind. I had no doubt where my quarter had gone.
That's when I stopped giving money. A few offers to buy a meal were turned down. That solidified my resolve. And when a woman in a full-length fur coat gave me a sob story about how she'd just inherited the coat and wouldn't part with it because it was her aunt's favorite coat ... blah blah blah, so could you please give me some money, I just walked by, giving her barely a glance. Living in the city had hardened me.
Twenty-plus years later, I had taken a purely clinical approach to the man at the bottom of the freeway ramp. My son, alas, had not yet been hardened.
I'm still not sure how to think about this. There are Jesus' words in Matthew 25:45: "I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me." Those words are a dagger to the heart every time I think of how callous I'd become in New York -- and on the freeway ramp.
But then I read the apostle Paul's words in 2 Thessalonians 3:10: "If a man will not work, he shall not eat." The homeless man was young and able-bodied, and surely he could find work somewhere. Giving money to beggars merely encourages irresponsible behavior.
But then ...
I can go back and forth on this forever. One thing I can do is to give generously to organizations such as the Salvation Army, Samaritan's Purse or Compassion International that are able to pool resources and do genuine good for the least of these -- no equivocating or questions asked.
Ted just sent me this link from freerepublic.com about the United Methodists changing their mission statement this week at conference. Previous mission:
The mission of the Church is to make disciples of Jesus Christ.
New mission:
The mission of the Church is to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world.
Rejected amendment:
The mission of the Church is to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the salvation of souls and the transformation of the world.
Now I don't want to read too much into this. I mean, I'm a marketing guy so I understand wanting a pithy mission statement. But it seems they should have rejected the latter phrase of the rejected amendment, not the former. It's just too man (and earth) centered. You know, how about something like, "... for God's glory."
As freerepublic.com notes,"transforming the world" sounds more like a political agenda than a church mission. And from my experience, it will likely be a leftist political agenda.
Anyway, it appears my optimism about the "conservative governing majority" was a little premature.
Have you ever found yourself doubting your faith -- even just a little bit? Does God really exist? Is Christianity the only way? How can we be sure?
I've had these questions, and I would guess that many of you have as well. But how do we deal with them?
Well, I have a few suggestions. First you should watch our new TrueU video -- I, apparently, am a very doubtful person.
Second, you should definitely check out Jason Boyett's latest TrueU article. In it, he talks about one of his weaknesses -- doubt. But instead of hiding in shame because he's not always sure about his faith, he decided to take Paul's advice and boast in his weakness: I'll willingly identify myself as a Christian. I live as a Christian. I write magazine articles and books for Christians. But there are days that I don't feel like a Christian. Faith for me is hard.
There are plenty of reasons for this. Maybe you identify with them. Sometimes I doubt because of sin. Willful disobedience doesn't remove me from God's presence or love — nothing can do that, according to Romans 8:38-39 — but it can certainly mess up my experience of His presence and love. Sometimes I doubt because of negligence. When I'm going through a spell of prayerlessness or spiritual apathy, God begins to feel distant. It should be no surprise, then, when it feels like He's not just far away, but completely absent.
Jason recommends admitting our doubts, refusing to fear them, and then understanding how doubt and faith work together. He points out that to get beyond doubt, we must practice our faith: In the presence of doubt, the best way to express faith is by living it out. There may be a lot of things that bring me uncertainty, but there are plenty of things about which I'm very certain. I know that it's good to worship God and to gather with fellow believers. I know that it's good to extend mercy and grace to others, just like it's been extended to me. I know that I am to show love without discretion, I am to give without selfishness, and I am to care for those who can't pay me back. So when I'm faced with theological or philosophical uncertainty, the most faithful thing for me to do is to practice those things I'm certain about. So I worship. I give. I love. I obey.
I think this is beautiful. It's faith in action -- it's us living what we say we believe, even when it is difficult. It is recognizing that, as Jason says, "Jesus frees us -- not the absence of doubt."
I grew up attending a quaint United Methodist Church down South. The people were nice, the services were reverent, and music was worshipful. But I can't say the Bible was preached well there. Either that or I just didn't have ears to hear it then.
Maybe it was both.
I left the church when I left for college. But not with animosity or anything like that, I just wanted to do my own thing on Sundays. And I did my own thing for about the next 10 years.
When I was 27 years old and working in D.C., I decided I needed church again (in hindsight though, it was really the Lord beginning to call me). So I began attending a United Methodist Church very near my apartment. The female reverend took some getting used to, but other than that, I felt right at home there ... until I heard my first sermon on the beauty of homosexual love.
And that was enough to make this conservative good ol' boy head for the doors right in the middle of the service, never to return.
I became a Christian about a year after that through a U.S. Senate staff Bible study. A brother immediately took me under his wing and took me to a Bible believing, expositional preaching, reformed Baptist church (though he himself was a Presbyterian). And it was only then that I began to see my upbringing in a new light; to see the difference sound doctrine makes in denominations.
So today I was interested to read this article from The Daily Standard titled "Will Methodism Tilt Right?" It's about how plummeting membership among the liberal United Methodist Churches in America has left the door open for a "strongly evangelical" influence at this years quadrennial General Conference.
The African United Methodists are strongly evangelical. While U.S. church elites are confused by their declining influence and give their attention to fading political causes of the left, the Africans are quietly assuming wide influence over what was once almost an entirely American institution. Thirty percent of the delegates at the General Conference will come from Africa, the Philippines or Europe. In coalition with another 30 percent of delegates who are U.S. evangelicals, mostly from the South, there is likely for the first time in modern Methodist history a conservative governing majority. Just 4 years ago, U.S. evangelicals and overseas delegates comprised less than 50 percent.
The articles ends with a warning not to expect changes overnight like it did with the Southern Baptists in the late '80s. But still, it's encouraging.
Thank God for African evangelicals.
The garden is still beautiful. Tucked among the deep green canopy of leaves, birds chirp and squirrels play. The air is fresh with the scent of flowers and dew. Being there, it just feels good to be alive.
Except that the first two humans have just disobeyed their Creator, bringing shame and discord upon all of creation.
Perhaps the Lord is heart-broken. Perhaps He's infuriated. Certainly He is not surprised.
So God the Just metes out the punishments. The serpent will be cursed, will eat the dust from which Adam was created, and will some day be further punished by the Offspring of God and humanity. Eve, the life-giver, will experience pain in bringing about that life, and will continue yearning to usurp her husband's authority. And Adam's work will no longer be pleasant, but a grueling chore.
But then the Lord does something both peculiar and prophetic. He calls over a lamb, a gentle creature that has been grazing deeper in the garden. As the animal walks over, the Lord bends down and gathers it in His arms, pained at the terrible grace He is about to extend to Adam and to Eve. The Maker and Sustainer of life slices deeply into the lamb's neck, blood splattering down His arm and collecting onto the ground in crimson puddles. Never before has He killed one of His creatures, but this moment calls for a death, a providential and atoning death.
The frantic bleating comes to an end and the flow of blood slows. The Lord peels the animal's skin off its muscle in sheets. Adam and Eve look on, horrified. He folds this edge of the skin back over, affixing it to that edge, pulling this flap under and that section over.
And then it's done. He instructs Adam and Eve to remove the clothes they had made of leaves. As they do, they're freshly made aware of the shame of their sin. Trembling, Adam stares at the ground, trying to take in what he has just seen, trying not to think too much about the difficult road ahead of him. Eve stands next to him, tears flowing down her blushing face.
Then the Lord tells the first couple to look at Him. As they do, they are stunned to find not a face of anger, but of compassion. And there in His hands they see it, still moist with the blood of the lamb, something divinely crafted to cover their shame: a garment for Adam, and a garment for Eve....
Saturday is the first day of Passover this year. Although we already celebrated Easter at the end of last month, I think it's so important to remember the Passover celebration as well.
Celebrating Passover by having a Seder dinner is something I've done for the past three years. It has radically changed the way I see the Resurrection and the symbolism of what Jesus did and when He chose to do it.
A lot goes on during a Seder dinner -- it's a time for all participants to remember how God rescued them from slavery in Egypt. During the dinner, we remember the ten plagues God sent, the redemption as He brought us out of Egypt and the future glory and joy when Messiah comes. For the Christian, it is no different. It is beautiful to remember what God did so long ago in Egypt -- how He has set us free from our slavery and redeemed what was broken.
One of my favorite parts of the Seder ceremony has to do with Matzoh -- the unleavened bread required at Passover. God told the Israelites to only eat unleavened bread during Passover to remind them of the fact that there was no time for the bread to rise when they left Egypt.
At the beginning of the Seder, the leader takes out a container that has three sections for three different pieces of Matzoh. There isn't any agreement as to why, where or how this tradition of three pieces began. Some say it symbolizes the three fathers (Abraham, Isaac and Jacob). Others say it symbolizes the priests, Levites and the congregation. Either way, there are three pieces of matzoh.
The leader takes the middle matzoh out of the container and breaks it in two parts. He puts one back, and the other he wraps in a separate napkin. This pieces becomes the afikoman, which means dessert. The leader hides the afikoman and moves on with the ceremony. After the meal, the children go to look for the afikoman. The child who finds it brings it to the leader, but holds it as a ransom until a price has been paid -- usually a treat for the child. The service cannot continue until the afikoman has been redeemed.
So, let's review: The afikoman, the middle piece of the three matzot, was broken, hidden away and brought back. For its redemption, a ransom had to be paid. Symbolism, anyone??!!
After the afikoman has been redeemed, the leader breaks it into pieces and distributes it to the whole group. It is the dessert, and its taste is to remain in their mouths as long as possible to remind everyone of God's deliverance in the past, present and future.
So let's go back to a room with a few guys in it a couple thousand years ago. The group has just finished their Passover meal, the youngest person in the room (perhaps his name was John) has found the afikoman and redeemed it. The leader begins the ceremony: And as He had done earlier, Yeshua took the afikoman and gave thanks.
"Baruch atah Adonai, elohaynu melech haolam hamotzee lechem min haaretz." Or, in English, "Blessed are you, O LORD our God, King of the universe, who brings forth bread from the earth.
Yeshua broke the afikoman, passed it to His disciples, and then said something new: "Take, eat, this is my body, given for you; do this in remembrance of me."
It is so much more powerful to me to know that the elements in the Last Supper were already part of a bigger tradition. Jesus didn't take random pieces of bread or a meaningless cup of wine. They are part of the ceremony of the Seder dinner. They are part of the Jewish tradition. They take on new meaning when Jesus breaks that second piece of matzoh and tells us that what's been broken, hidden, and redeemed is what He is going to do for all of creation.
It's a beautiful thing.
If it's hard, scary or dangerous, I'm there. I volunteered for the Marines and the infantry -- while there was still a war going on. I traveled with guerrillas in southern Sudan to report on the war and Christian persecution in that country. When I lived in Switzerland I skied double-black-diamond, parachute-optional runs in the Alps. I look for sharks when scuba diving. And, as research for a magazine article, I pulled 9 G's in an F-16.
But when it comes to my faith ... well, sometimes I'm a wimp. I take the easy way out. It's easy to say I'm on fire for the Lord, but all too often it's simpler to just stick with that and forget the "therefore go ..." part of Christ's commands.
That's why I'm thrilled to see Do Hard Things by Alex and Brett Harris, brothers of Joshua Harris of I Kissed Dating Goodbye fame. (The foreword is by Chuck Norris, and our very own Ted Slater has written an endorsement.) The twin brothers have started a movement they call The Rebelution to urge Christians to recognize that God has commanded us to do hard things.
I think it's the new generation's answer to the problem of cheap grace addressed by Dietrich Bonhoeffer more than 60 years ago. The Harris brothers say: We're not just saying that hard things happen and that you can benefit from them. We're not just saying that you have the ability to do hard things. We're telling you that you should do hard things because it's the best and only way to experience true growth in your life. ... Our big, crazy idea is that this is the life God has called us to live now—not 10 or 20 years from now, but right now, as young people. This is your best life, not your easiest life; the only way to avoid wasting your single years and ultimately your life.
It's a great insight that I think we have to rediscover with every generation. Me, I have to rediscover it every week or so.
What kind of hard things are you doing? What do you wish you were doing?
Hurray for Suzanne in today's blog. I personally am bothered by the architecture of so many of our churches today. Some are either featureless concrete blocks not much different from a Home Depot, or else they resemble a shopping mall, with atriums, bookstores, coffee bars and huge parking lots. ("Now did we park in Peter or Paul today?") 
I understand the twin desires to look current and to be good stewards of building funds. And large congregations have to accommodate the parking needs of their people -- if not out of courtesy, then out of building-code requirements. But do we consider that, as with any art form, the medium is part of the message? Our church architecture tells the world something about the people who inhabit the building. Do we want to blend in? Show off? Do we want to say something about the God we worship? Art consists of both form (e.g., painting, architecture, film) and content (what the artist is trying to communicate). And both form and content should reinforce each other. (I realize, too, that you can have some art that is all form and no content, such as instrumental music.)
Think about the Gothic cathedrals of Europe. The architecture of these buildings was intended to create an elevated sensory experience; the high vaulted ceilings, stained glass windows, and soaring space evoked a sense of awe in anyone who walked inside. The spire reached toward heaven, and the building itself was built  in the shape of a cross. For example, the cathedral in Exeter, England -- that's its interior vault to the left -- must consist of thousands of tons of stone, yet it looks light and airy enough that you can imagine it floating among the clouds. Consider also God's instructions for both the Tabernacle and the Temple. Artistic excellence was a defining feature.
Now I know God can be worshiped anywhere, and I realize some churches don't have the budget to build a soaring structure. (My church meets in a YMCA.) But what message are we sending to the world when we want our churches to be "non-threatening," to blend in as much as possible with the surroundings? (One famous megachurch won't even put a cross on the outside of the building.) Or what happens when they try to be so trendy that all sense of majesty and wonder is lost? I know a lot of Roman Catholics were appalled at the new Cathedral of Los Angeles when it opened. It's a boxy mishmash of conflicting angles and squat ugliness. (It at least has a cross out front.)
And some churches scrimp on the building fund, insisting that they can do more good works with the money saved. But consider this story: While [Jesus] was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of a man known as Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head.
Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, "Why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a year’s wages and the money given to the poor." And they rebuked her harshly.
"Leave her alone," said Jesus. "Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me."
Are we the equivalent to those who rebuked this woman because she gave the best she had to worship God? Are we like the artisans of the Old Testament who used their best materials and greatest talents to make something that glorifies God?
I'm not saying we need to build gothic cathedrals or even Christopher Wren Gothic-Classical mash-ups. But our church buildings, whenever possible, should say something about us as a people and the God we worship. After all, some people may never get to the content of our message if they can't stomach the form it's preached in.
Ted has raised some interesting questions about what should be our response to the undeniable evil being perpetrated by Robert Mugabe. (I have a personal interest, too, having lived in South Africa during the apartheid era and visiting its immediate neighbor to the north when the country was still called Rhodesia. In fact, I have a souvenir sculpture of a springbok whose plaque reads, "Made of the finest Rhodesian copper.")
If I might gently correct Ted, though, I think there's a third option not being considered. We must pray for Mugabe. Prayer does not necessarily preclude other actions but it might make them unnecessary.
I know I often turn to prayer as a last resort when it should be my first resort. But I was reminded of this when I saw this recent news report. The fact that Pope Benedict XVI would want to pray for the redemption of terrorists during his upcoming visit to Ground Zero in New York City should not be remarkable, yet it is causing controversy in some quarters. Why?
In fact, let's go one better. Let's adopt a terrorist for a personal prayer bombardment. Instead of letting hatred fester or living in fear, let's deploy the greatest weapon we have. We worship a God of great wonders and power. Let's urge Him to show mercy toward and soften the hearts of so many who are today twisted with hatred.
In last week's The Boundless Show, Candice mentioned a TrueU article I wrote awhile back -- one in which I talk about being tempted to date a non-Christian guy.
The article, "Uncertain of What I Do Not See," is actually one of my favorites because I talk honestly about my volatile walk of faith with God.
It all started when I went out on one date with a guy who wasn't a Christian. I had fun -- I wanted to do it again. So I spent the next few days arguing with myself about the situation, and I came to the following conclusion: It finally dawned on me that my struggle with this decision had a lot less to do with [the guy], and much more to do with my volatile relationship with the Lord. It hit me that I didn't believe that my obedience to the Lord in this situation was worth it. Basically it came down to this fact: I do not trust God. I just don't.
Even though I've been a Christian for a long time, I still struggle to believe that God has things under control. Lucky for me, the disciples sometimes had the same problem.
In my article, I mention Ray Vanderlaan and a lesson he teaches about Mark 8:22-26 when Jesus heals a blind guy -- but only partway. He then heals him a second time and he is able to see clearly. Was Jesus just practicing the first time? Well, Ray would tell you to read the entire passage to figure out what this miracle meant: Anyway, just before Jesus healed the blind man, He had fed 4,000 people with seven loaves of bread and a few fish. Quite the feat. The disciples collect baskets of leftover food, and then set out with Jesus.
The disciples promptly begin lamenting the fact that they forgot to bring lunch. "We don't have any bread," they whine. Jesus, with disbelief, says this: Why are you talking about having no bread? Do you still not see or understand? Are your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes but fail to see, and ears but fail to hear? And don't you remember? When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up? … Do you still not understand? (vv. 17-19, 21, NIV)
The disciples apparently didn't get it. Here they had seen Jesus twice feed thousands of people with a couple of loaves of bread, and yet they continue to worry about where their lunch is going to come from. They are witnessing the miraculous acts of God incarnate, and they are failing to see who He really is — they immediately forget what He is capable of. It is right after this lunch fiasco that Jesus goes and heals the blind man at Bethsaida. He heals him partway — he has eyes, but still does not see clearly — kind of like the disciples.
Ray posits that this miracle is an object lesson for the disciples. Jesus is showing them what their faith walk looks like. As I listened to this explanation, I realized that I am no different than those disciples.
I often walk around wondering where my next desire is going to come from and promptly forget how God fulfilled my last one. How quick we are to forget, which is probably why God reminds His people over and over again that they need to remember what He has done.
It's an important lesson, and one that I have to continually remind myself to learn.
I walked out of the clinic in a stupor. The sky seemed less colorful, the spring air less fresh, my legs less stable. I had testicular cancer.
More blood tests, ultrasounds, X-rays. My dad flying in a few days before the surgery date. Surgery. Almost passing out in the bathroom after getting home. Passing out in the hospital a few weeks later. Months of chest X-rays and CT scans and blood tests to determine whether or not they got it all. Years of chest X-rays and CT scans and blood tests.
Five years of this, and the doctor gave me the good news: The surgery five years earlier was completely successful. I was now officially cancer-free. I was a survivor.
Did God ordain my cancer? I don't know. Did I do something to cause the cancer? I don't know.
What I do know is that I am grateful for having gone through cancer. Yeah, you read that right. I'm grateful that the Lord used that time to teach me to trust more in Him, to not fear talking with others about Him, to place some things high on the priority list and other things lower on that list.
I didn't get tied in knots with all the "why" questions, frankly. I knew God was good, and He was guiding me each day through my illness. And that was exhilarating, as though I were on the cutting edge of life. Who knows what tomorrow might bring? God knows. And He had been faithful before; He would continue being faithful. Of course. Why should I question Him now?
My cancer solidified faith and character. And that's a good thing. (And I'm not the only one to see the potential benefits of going through cancer.)
I'm no biblical scholar, but that does sound consistent with Scripture. We know, for example, that for those who love God all things work together for good (Romans 8:28). For good!
And who knows? Maybe the cancer was being used as a kind of discipline. Not punishment, since God does not punish His children, but discipline. And if it was discipline, that's a good thing -- even a gift. After all, the Lord disciplines those He loves (Hebrews 12:6). He "disciplines us for our good, that we may share his holiness. For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it" (Hebrews 12:10-11).
Suffering does that: It produces in us fruit of righteousness. It allows us to share God's holiness.
Whether my cancer was brought about by God's decree, by Adam's sin or by my carelessness, I don't know. Regardless who was at fault for the cancer, the Lord used that season of suffering to discipline me for good.
* * *And now, oddly enough, I find myself thinking of another kind of suffering: the suffering of a single adult who longs to be married. They may be single because of bad choices; they may be single because of no fault of their own. I don't know. But just as the Lord did a good work in me through my suffering with cancer, I believe the Lord can do a good work in those who suffer in their singleness.
Of course, I sought out a physician to deal with my cancer. That was a good idea. And it's a fine idea for marriage-minded singles to seek help in bringing an end to their suffering as well. You don't just sit there and not deal with the root cause of your suffering.
But at the same time, I believe that one of the richest and most fulfilling joys of this life is serving the Lord in the midst of our suffering and allowing Him to make us more Christ-like through our suffering.
You may be called to a lifetime of serving the Lord as a single adult. I commend you. Suffering for the Lord by forfeiting spouse and children is honorable.
Or you may be called to marriage, and ache for it. Let me encourage you to do something about it, just as I dealt with the thing that brought me suffering. But don't despise this season: The suffering you experience may very well be a gift.
The book of Jonah was the focus of my college inductive Bible study class. The instructor (who had written his master's thesis on Jonah) forced us to get beyond the storybook Jonah (by reading the book some 20 times) and arrive at the book's true implications: God shows mercy to whom He chooses, and He will use even the disobedient to accomplish His will.
In "Eaten Alive," Ronald F. Marshall addresses the way children's books have sanitized the story of the disobedient prophet and in so-doing removed its gospel message. Jonah is a horrifying book, with its raging storm and fierce sea-monster, a suicide attempt and near drowning, and, at the end, a confrontation with a massive enemy city. But in American children's literature it is largely a harmless adventure story, all about travel and intrigue, underwater hideouts, success and fame.
Jonah may not have been eaten alive in the Bible, but he has been in the children's books. In the nineteen versions I examined for this essay, the horror of the story has been extracted and removed from sight, and with it an important theological and imaginative preparation for the gospel.
Marshall observes that many storybooks justify or romanticize Jonah's disobedience, ignore the consequences of his sin and completely overlook the "death" of being swallowed by a whale. This treatment of God's Word extracts its power. The New Testament itself presses this connection when it says that only the "sign of Jonah" will point to Christ (Matt. 12:39; Luke 11:29). Just as Jonah was thrown to his (expected) death in the sea to save the sailors from the storm, so are we, "the entire boat of humanity," as the church father Jerome put it, saved from sin by Jesus when he is nailed to his death on the cross. So Jonah's headlong leap into the deadly sea prefigures Jesus' willing ascent to die on the cross.
Additionally, only a few versions included the scene in chapter four, in which God sends the worm to eat the shade tree and Jonah is left pouting and sulking. I'm ashamed to admit that it wasn't until college that I found out Jonah was not a role model. His obedience was unwilling even to the end. Marshall points out that we should not shield children from the scary truths of God's Word -- including the horrifying results of sin. Forget about cleaning up Jonah. Instead, tell the story the Bible tells. It is the story God wants your children to hear.
Sara W. handed me another prayer request today, this time just a one-page print-out of an e-mail.
It was from a man who's going through some trials, including financial and business-related problems. He confessed that the difficulties may be intended by God to grow his faith, or they may be more diabolical. He's thankful for a "wonderful understanding wife," and asks us to pray for him and those he's working with.
And so I take a minute or two, push my chair away from my desk, close my eyes, and pray to the Lord for this man.
This isn't unusual. Sara gives me one or two prayer requests every week. From a mother who's concerned about her wayward daughter; from a single man struggling with a decision about college; from a grandfather whose daughter's marriage is on the ropes; from a wife whose husband is an unrepentant pornography user. And I take all of their prayer requests seriously. Because those asking us to pray for them take it seriously. And because God does as well.
And I'm not the only one receiving prayer requests from friends of Focus on the Family. Motte does. Steve does. Suzanne Does. Denise does. Tom does. Hundreds of us Focus on the Family employees receive these prayer requests every day, and every day we quietly take them to the Lord in prayer.
If you need a friend to come alongside you in prayer, feel free to let us know how we can pray. The sheets each employee receives include no personally identifying information, so you're assured that it's entirely confidential. And you can also be assured that we don't place them in a box and merely lay hands on the thousands of heart-felt requests for intercession, as I understand some busy ministries have done. We care enough to personally do something about each one.
Go here to let us know how we can pray for you. Personally.
My mother-in-law, Ella, was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's six years ago when she was just 54. Now she's in the late stages and well beyond caring for herself in the most basic sense. For example, she can't hold a cup of water and bring it to her mouth to drink. Someone has to take hold of her hands and lift the glass to her lips. And more and more she fails to recognize any of her loved ones, including her husband. Sometimes she doesn't even know who she is.
I thought mainly of Ella and her condition this Easter. And I thanked God for its transience. Because of the resurrection, I know she'll be perfect and whole again soon. You see, Ella is a believer. And more than the precious memories of her as wife and mother, we'll treasure the hope we have of her restoration in Christ.
We read The Jesus Storybook Bible as a family and I am often struck by the sweet simplicity of truth the author pulls out of scripture. In the chapter describing the resurrection, Sally Lloyd-Jones describes Mary's thoughts as she runs back to the city after just seeing the resurrected Christ: Mary ran and ran, all the way to the city. She had never run so fast or so far in all her life. She felt she could have run forever. She didn't even feel like her feet touched the ground. The sun seemed to be dancing and gleaming and bounding across the sky, racing with her and shining brighter than she could ever remember in the clear, fresh air.
And it seemed to her that morning, as she ran, almost as if the whole world had been made anew, almost as if the whole world was singing for joy -- the trees, the tiny sounds in the grass, the birds ... her heart.
Was God really making everything sad come untrue? Was he making even death come untrue? She couldn't wait to tell Jesus' friends. "They won't believe it!" she laughed.
In the brokenness of life, the hope found in the resurrection of Christ becomes most vivid and most dear. And who among us will be untouched by the sorrows life can bring. When they come, look to the resurrection. Know that whatever it is, it is most assuredly temporal. And for believers, paradise awaits.
I confessed on this past week's podcast that I don't like the term "Easter," as it associates the day with one or more of the following fertility godesses: Ishtar, Eostre, Astarte, Ostera, Eastre.
Before I went to college, I didn't concern myself so much with words. But after History of the English Language classes, after studying etymology, after grad-level linguistics courses, after researching the non-Christian artifacts that accompany Resurrection Day (e.g., bunnies, eggs, chocolate) and other holidays ... I found myself caring about the word I used to talk about the day Jesus came back to life.
Would I, in essence, honor the fertility goddess and the ancient cultic spring festivals by calling it Easter? Or would I direct my mind back to the risen Savior by calling it Resurrection Day?
Of course I'm not calling for the calendar to change, or for schools and businesses to call this day "Resurrection Day." I'm not quarreling with anyone, arguing that they should change their vocabulary. That's not the point. It's about how my university-educated mind is influenced by the words I use, and how I prefer to influence it with Christian truth rather than Pagan tradition.
Some people say we shouldn't argue about words like this. Others point out the inconsistency with my concern over "Easter" and my lack of concern over the etymology of days of the week (e.g., Wednesday is "Woden's Day," Thursday is "Thor's Day," etc.) or Christmas (e.g., the Christ Mass). Maybe it's because I haven't spent a lot of time studying the background of the names of the days of the week, and because "Christ" is still part of "Christmas." Or maybe I see "Easter" as more blatantly trying to supplant "Resurrection Day." Not sure.
Regardless, I find it helpful, as I'm the forgetful kind, to refer to the day Jesus came back to life as "Resurrection Day." It helps me focus my attention on what we're really commemorating. Hearing "Easter" clouds my thoughts with visions of bunnies, chocolate, eggs, baskets, plastic grass, jelly beans, bonnets, sugar-plums and muskrats. And I've got enough clouds in my head.
I'll be attending five services this weekend. No, not because I'm especially religious, but because I'm in the church worship team and am committed to playing for all five of our services: two tonight and three tomorrow morning.
I love serving this way, and there are benefits to singing and playing each song so many times, and hearing the sermon five times. I admit that it is a challenge to "be present" 100 percent for each service -- after the third or fourth I can start running out of steam. But it really is a joy to be on stage alongside friends as I serve the congregation this way.
Interested in going with me to see what it's like? Check back tonight and tomorrow for regular updates. Final rehearsal is at 2 p.m. sharp (Mountain Time), and the first service begins at 4:30. See you then!
1:45 p.m.
Jacob has given me access to the church's wireless internet. Works great!
The drummer, Julian, is here, as are the sound guys, the lighting guy, and the overhead guy. Some of the kids are here as well, full of energy. Julian is using two snares tonight -- a regular one, and a side snare that's pitched a bit higher. It sounds sweet. I expect the final "dress rehearsal" to begin within 15 minutes.
I forgot my black shirt at home. Hopefully my wife will bring it when she comes later this afternoon. I'm hoping Fletch brings me a tie. The guys in the band are all planning to wear black shirts and silky greenish ties, $8 from Wal-mart.
I'm going to go on stage and make sure my music is in order and the two keyboards sound right. I'll be using my Korg Triton Pro and my Clavia Nord Electro 2 (run through a Presonus tube amp to add a bit of "organic-ness"). We're using Avioms for our monitor mix, and I'm using Senheiser headphones -- the kind that wrap around the back of your head so your hair doesn't get messed up. The "dent" you get from regular headphones is just unacceptable. :-)
I expect to give the next update in a bit over three hours.
3:45 p.m.
Well, I'm back earlier than I thought. I've got a few minutes before we meet for pre-service prayer, so I figured I'd write a bit more....
Rehearsal went quite well. We're singing a combination of hymns (e.g., Crown Him with Many Crowns), contemporary songs (e.g., Chris Tomlin), and songs that members of our church have written. There's a short skit just prior to the sermon that introduces the concept of "God following us." In addition to the band, there'll be an adult choir on-stage (maybe 45 members) and some 100 kids during certain times -- the kids will be in front of the stage and in the aisles.
Weather is odd. It was in the 60s yesterday here in Colorado Springs. Today it's been blizzarding on and off. It's snowing now.
Just got a call from my wife. She's in the parking lot with my black shirt. Fletch brought the green tie, so I'm all set. All the guys in the band are wearing black pants and black shirts and green ties. The worship pastor Mike Burwell is wearing something a bit different. And that got me thinking that we looked like the guys' side of a wedding ceremony. Hm. There's a great band name: Mikey B. and the Groomsmen. :-)
Off to get my black shirt....
7:51 p.m.
Both of this evening's services are behind us. It was helpful to hear the sermon a second time. I think I can summarize it now.
The text was from Luke 24:13-35.
8:15 p.m.
I had been storing my old iBook in Pastor Mike's office, and was starting my previous post when it was time for him to close his office and head home. I'm at home now, so let me continue where I left off....
So two of Jesus' disciples were going to Emmaus -- that would be away from Jerusalem, the site of the crucifixion -- chatting about what had happened in the past few days. Jesus had been killed, some of the women were claiming that Jesus was alive ... but they had lost hope that Jesus was indeed the Messiah, the "one to redeem Israel (verse 21).
Jesus met up with them, and through the course of the conversation, Jesus instilled hope in these men, first by pointing them to Scripture, referencing the books of Moses and the prophets and other books of the Bible. Their faith and hope began building. Then they invited Jesus to spend time with them in Emmaus. That fellowship instilled faith and hope. And finally enjoyed a meal with them ... and their eyes were opened to Who Jesus was.
The point? If you're feeling hopeless, turn to the Scriptures. They are words of life. And enjoy fellowship with Jesus, asking Him to fellowship with you. Such intimacy is life-giving, hope-instilling.
I like that none of the pastors used the term "Easter," that I remember. Instead, they spoke of Resurrection Day. The less I have to hear the name of that fertility goddess, the better, as far as I'm concerned. Hmf. :-)
From the stage, the two services went well. I played wrong notes at least four times, but think I served the songs well. Our bass player Dave played at least one wrong note. Keeps us humble, reminds us that only God is perfect. Our guitar player Fletch was all over the place. Not sure he hit one note right. (Just kidding, Fletch! Love you, man!)
I believe that the songs provided a fine context for the congregation to consider truths about the resurrection and consequently engage the Lord in worship. During the course of each service I used the following sounds on my keyboards: organ/B3, piano (with a bit of pad behind it), plain bright piano, rhodes, strings, orchestra, pads. For a few of the songs I played both synths at the same time -- organ on top and a pad beneath, or organ on top and strings/orchestra on bottom. Julian had programmed a drum/synth loop to start off one of the songs; that worked really well, in my opinion.
(KarlH -- I love my Electro. It's got the best Hammond/B3 sounds of any of the organ clones, in my opinion. The softsynth B4 is also quite good. If you need a good organ sound, and some cool "electro-mechanical" sounds like a Rhodes, Whurly and Clav, the Electro is for you. The Triton just doesn't give you the same organic energy as the Electro, and its "leslie ramp-up" is worthless compared to the Electro.)
Our sanctuary accommodates 900 people, and an additional couple hundred can be seated in the "old sanctuary," a room between the church entrance and the main sanctuary. Over the course of these five services, we're expecting some 6,000 folks to attend church.
I believe the church has grown so much over the past few years because our pastor speaks words of life. We don't use "seeker-sensitive" techniques to draw a crowd, but simply preach expositionally from Scripture, book by book, chapter by chapter, verse by verse. And the Word of God is powerful.
Sure, we have a mix of contemporary and classic worship songs, but the heart of the church is God-breathed Scripture. We've been in the book of Romans for a few months now. Sometimes Pastor Steve spends the entire sermon on one verse. We're in Romans 5 and 6 now. Powerful, powerful faith-inspiring Scripture.
Between the first two services tonight all those serving (band, choir, children's choir, parking lot folk, etc.) enjoyed a meal together. I was near the front of the food line, so I have a full 15 minutes to eat my pasta and salad. Those near the end of the line may have had 5 minutes. It was a bit rushed, but that's fine. The folks who prepared and served the food did an outstanding job.
We've got to be at the church at 6 a.m., and the first of tomorrow's three services begins at 7:30. I think tonight will be an early-to-bed early-to-rise kind of evening. :-)
He is risen!
4:54 a.m.
I wake up a minute before the alarm goes off. I shower, get dressed, leave an update on the blog ... and prepare to brave the newly fallen snow to get to church for our 6 a.m sound check....
9:12 a.m.
I have a few minutes between this morning's first and second services to catch you up....
We just enjoyed breakfast -- scrambled eggs (which makes me wonder if we ever use "scrambled" with any other kind of food), bacon (which is a nice pseudonym for what it really is), fruit, orange juice, and a donut. Not as rushed this morning as it was last night -- the children's choir ate during the first service, between the times they were needed in the sanctuary.
Pastor Mike's voice was acting up this morning, so another pastor, Josiah, took over song leading. He did a great job for agreeing to such a last-minute request.
You know, worship is fun. Reflecting on the Lord's kind provision to undeserving people like me ... lifts the spirits. I know it's not "all about me," but for some reason God does make this reflection/response singing activity a joy. I'm looking forward to our second service. Good times!
10:52 a.m.
Either Pastor Steve's sermon gets better with each service, or I'm just getting more each time I hear it. The fourth time was a charm, as they say. Here are two guys, men who had been followers of Jesus, who were sad and had given up hope. Jesus was dead, and the women were acting crazy, claiming to have seen angels and such. So they were heading away. To Emmaus.
And of all the places He could have shown up, Jesus met up with these two doubters. Through Scripture, through His presence, and through His talking with them, their faith and hope were restored. Am I so different from these two disciples who had given up hope, and who had seen their Master die? Thank God I have His word through the Scriptures, His presence, and the still small voice of the Holy Spirit to give me hope and purpose.
Pastor Mike's voice is a bit better, but Pastor Josiah is still leading all the songs. Going great.
We're now in between the fourth and fifth services, the second and third for this morning. We're in the choir practice room and Mike is honoring the various folks who helped put this series of services together. Lots of work involved. Lots of clapping. Lots of T-shirts. And there was much rejoicing.
I better close for now. I feel that Mike's going to call me up and give me a shirt any time now....
11:10 a.m.
My face is feeling hot and, um, "glisteny." It may be lack of sleep, having woken up before 5 this morning. Or it may be the stage lights. While I'm looking forward to serving alongside my friends onstage, helping facilitate worship, I'm also looking forward to getting home, putting on my shorts and a T-shirt, and washing my face with Noxema and cold water. Yeah, I use Noxema -- the blue jar with the hip drawing of a teen girl on it. I'm secure.
Well, the next service starts in 15 minutes. The band needs to be on-stage at T-4 minutes, and the choir joins us on-stage at T-2 minutes. Talk to you soon!
1:31 p.m.
Whew. I'm tired. After the final service came to a close, I got the cases for my two keyboards from the green room and packed away my synths, wrapped my cables, closed my Ultimate keyboard stand, boxed up my tube preamp, tucked my music away, and lugged it all to the car and drove home.
I didn't listen to any music in the car on the way home, but when I opened the door and began bringing my things inside, I heard a timely song on our home MP3 server:
When the music fades
All is stripped away
And I simply come
Longing just to bring
Something that's of worth
That will bless Your heart
I'll bring You more than a song
For a song in itself
Is not what You have required
You search much deeper within
Through the way things appear
You're looking into my heart
I'm coming back to the heart of worship
And it's all about You,
It's all about You, Jesus
Amen. And amen.
In the coming minutes, I'll be enjoying a fine non-kosher meal and a fine nap. The Lord is merciful.
7:31 p.m.
Lissa -- another option is to get a Yamaha YPG-625. It's got GREAT piano sounds, build-in speakers, has 88 weighted keys, and a lot of great sounds other than piano. You can find one for $750. Probably visit Guitar Center or somewhere else and play it before you plunk down the money. You can get its younger brother the YPG-525 for under $500 -- it has everything the YPG-625 has, except has non-weighted keys and is 24 pounds instead of 39 pounds. Both have some sort of multi-track recorder built in.
It's a decent starter keyboard, and has great "bread and butter" sounds. You could also look for a used Triton or Roland XP-80 (both of which sound wonderful, but don't have weighted keys).
My Triton is my "bread and butter" synth, with fine pianos, strings, pads and such. The Electro is great for organs and rhodes. I also have a Korg Prophecy for analog modeling sounds, and two Korg DSS-1s for analog/sampling sounds. I own some great soft-synths (Atmosphere is GREAT!), and am fantasizing about getting a Novation Supernova 2 (which I owned at one time, but had to sell to pay for my honeymoon).... Start with a good "bread and butter" synth, and then get others to complement it....
I love the cross of Christ. There is no greater mystery, nothing that inspires more wonder, than the crucifixion of our Lord. It was the greatest act of both love and hate ever portrayed. It's a manifestation of both the stratospheric height of God's mercy and the grimy depth of our sin.
Paul boasted in but one thing: the cross. The hosts of heaven include Jesus' death in their continuous expression of praise, day and night. My sin, as the old hymn goes, not in part but the whole, is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more. We are reconciled to God through the cross of Christ.
I could ponder the cross for a lifetime and never fully explore its depth and significance. It's both simple and complex. It's seen as both foolishness and the pinnacle of wisdom. It illustrates both divine compassion and divine wrath. Christ the all-powerful was crucified in weakness. It's both glorious and shameful. It shows us both God's fierce anger and His lovingkindness.
If it weren't for the cross, my life would be without meaning, without purpose, without direction. Thank God for the horrific solution to my sin problem. I resonate with Mark Altrogge's song, "I Love the Cross":
All my sins forgiven
Far removed as east from west
Cast into the depths of the ocean
Of grace and redeeming love
All my guilt atoned for
Every debt is paid in full
Though my sins were scarlet
Now I’m clean as a fresh fallen snow
I love the place where my Savior died
I love the place where I was justified
I love the place
Where Your blood flowed down
To give me life
I love the Cross
I love the Cross
I love the Cross
The Cross of Christ
I thank You, Lord, for the terrible, wonderful cross of my Savior.
Tomorrow is Good Friday, the day that many Christians commemorate the crucifixion of Christ.
I can remember as a youth (raised in a denomination which recognized Good Friday with much more emphasis than the denomination I am now a part of) wondering, quite innocently and honestly, what's so good about Good Friday?
Back then I didn't see Good Friday as anything more than a day of mourning. That was the day that Jesus, my Lord, was crucified. That was a day of humiliation, of mocking, of indescribable pain and of unbearable aloneness. I can still remember the taunting crowds in Easter pageants I saw yelling, "Crucify Him!" Why in the world would we call it Good Friday?
I loved my Lord, but it was painful to contemplate what happened on that crucifixion day. Bring on Sunday and the empty tomb! "Up from the grave He arose, with a mighty triumph o'er His foes!...He arose! He arose! Hallelujah! Christ Arose!" There was power, glory and majesty in Easter!
But what I've learned since those days is that there is power, glory and majesty in Friday as well. There was suffering, but there was ultimate sacrifice as well. There was the perfect picture of love, that one would lay down His life for another. It was when Christ died that the temple curtain was torn in two, not when He arose.
Two articles on Boundless this week do a great job of putting perspective on the events that crucifixion day. "Cherish Grace" by Carolyn McCulley and "Share Christ's Sufferings" by Jim Tonkowich. I hope you'll give them both a read.
As for me, I am still moved by Christ's sufferings and death. And, sometimes, I still just want to get on to Sunday. But I remember: "Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!"
Good Friday. Yes, He is good.
I was putting my 8-year-old daughter to bed last night when she blurted out, "Daddy, you wanna hear the story of St. Patrick?" So while tucking her in I said, "Sure. Tell me about St. Patrick." Here's what she said ... all in one breath: Once there was a boy who lived in England with his family. Then there was a war and the bad guys won. And every single English boy was taken away to Ireland to be someone's slave. Patrick was one of them. In Ireland, they worshiped false idols. But Patrick's master wasn't cruel to him. But still, when he grew up, he escaped and went back to England. Later, he went back to Ireland as a missionary. And once when he was trying to explain the Trinity to someone, he looked down and saw a three-leaf clover. He picked it up and said, "This leaf represents the Father; this one the Son; and this one the Holy Ghost." And he spread the gospel all over Ireland.
That's about right. But if you'd like a little more detail on the life of St. Patrick, here's a quick read from Christianity Today.
Still, I enjoyed Sophie's best.
I received the following e-mail this past week from a Boundless reader:
I truly feel that God has told me that I can no longer be saved. That my "eyes were opened." I think I judged and accused and sinned so much after knowing Christ, that no sacrifice is left for me. Just a fearful expectation of things to come. Is this true?
While it was intended for John Thomas to address in one of his Boundless Answers columns, and I did forward it to him, I felt compelled to take some time to respond personally. Below is my reply. I've changed the letter-writer's name to protect his privacy.
* * *
Tim,
There are a lot of ideas floating around in this world. Some are true, and some are false. How do we know what's true? For one thing, we absolutely know that the Bible, a book unlike any other in the history of our world, is true. It presents words and ideas from God that are dependable and accurate and trustworthy. Consider the following:
"Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more."
That's from Romans 5:20. If you have a chance, read the verses before and after that phrase, preferably starting at verse 1. It's such a powerful and encouraging passage of Scripture.
What it's saying is that God's grace, expressed in the willing sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, is more than your sin. If you sin a little, God's grace is more. If you sin a lot, God's grace is more. If you murder and steal and have sex with someone you're not married to and lie about someone — that's some hefty sin. But God's grace is more. More! Always more.
What Jesus' death on the cross has accomplished is unlike any other thing in the world. His death has *paid* — fully — for our sin. His death gave us life *in exchange* for our sin. Think about someone paying $5,000 for a used car, or "exchanging" $5,000 in cash for a used car. It's not like that. Instead, it's like that person is offering an **unlimited** amount of money for a used car. An inexhaustible amount of money for that used car.
Your sin, Tim, is that used car. The price that God paid is that inexhaustible bank account. No end to what He has already paid, and what will be paid from that account. None.
God is the God of second chances. And third chances. And tenth chances. And 2,000th chances. And 26,302nd chances. And so on.
God has provided this "exchange" for His glory. It reveals His wonder and loftiness and grandeur by offering such mercy to you. Sorry to say this, but it's really not about you and your sin. No, it's about God and His nature to be loving and gracious and forgiving. It's who He is. And practicing such great mercy shows how great He is.
Tim, you've sinned much. You've disobeyed God's commandments. You've disappointed people around you, including yourself. You've not just made "mistakes," but you've intentionally rejected what God had to say and decided to go your own way. You've really messed up. Your life is a disaster.
And here's the good news — really good news: "Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more." Yeah, you're a scoundrel, just like me, but God is so much more glorious on the other end that His love envelopes and overtakes and more than covers what you've done.
One of my favorite passages of Scripture is Ephesians 2:1-7:
And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience — among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.
But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ — by grace you have been saved — and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.
I suspect you skipped over that, or just skimmed it. Let me encourage you to read it again, slowly. These words are God's words for you. They are life. They speak life to your spirit. And they're true. The words that condemn you are not true. These words, though, are true. Please go up one paragraph and read it again. Slowly.
OK, so you may be habitually sinning in some area. Maybe you're addicted to porn and masturbation. Maybe you're stealing things from stores or from your employer. Maybe you've said things that have really hurt others. Maybe you've physically hurt someone. Those things are lousy, and God wants you to stop and repent from those things. You may have to face consequences for what you've done. You may even go to prison, if what you've done is bad enough.
But if you accept the loving grace of God, which is so much more "weighty" than your sin, and if you continue in fellowship with Him, He'll help you overcome those sinful things you've been doing. There'll come a time when we're introduced to Christ in heaven as a sort of "bride," and God wants you, Tim, to be presented as a pure and spotless bride. And you'll love being introduced as such.
I know it's an odd metaphor, since you're a guy (as am I), but the point is that God is committed to seeing you become more Christ-like over time. With help from other Christian guys, and with the Lord's help, by speaking biblical truth to yourself and being willing to change, I'm confident that you will change into someone more Christ-like.
Take heart, Tim. Let me leave you with words Jesus Himself said in John 16:33: "I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world." God has overcome the world. He has overcome your sin.
Ted.
* * *
What would you add? How can you encourage "Tim" in his faith?
I'm swimming about 20 feet down through a colorful reef off the Pacific coast of Panama. My dive buddy comes around a corner of the reef, pointing behind him and making a fin shape on the top of his head -- the universal scuba signal for shark.
So what do I do? I head right for the spot he's pointing to. I swim over a small outgrowth of coral and see below me about 8 feet worth of whitetip reef shark tucked into a small overhang.
Thought No. 1: Dude, you're swimming toward a shark!
Thought No. 2: He's probably more afraid of you than you are of him.
Thought No. 3: That was probably the last thought that went through the heads of a lot of guys who are now dead!
Thought No. 2 turned out to be correct. As I drifted closer to the shark, all the better to get a picture of him, he darted off with a swish of his tail. (That's him in the photo. Okay, it was a cheap camera.)
I've been diving nearly 30 years in the Pacific, Indian and Atlantic oceans, the Caribbean and Red seas (that's me in the photo), but nowhere have I seen more fish in one place -- clouds of them swimming around the reefs.
On one of our deeper dives -- about 90 feet down -- we saw a huge school of spadefish, the light glinting off the silvery-black mass of their bodies as the entire school turned on a dime. In other spots, teeny-tiny, rainbow-hued fish quivered among the nooks and crannies of the coral. Slithery, colorful morays slipped among the coral while brightly colored sergeant major fish, Moorish idols, tangs and triggerfish swam by in huge schools. Colorful starfish hugged the rocks and coral at the bottom.
 And then I realized something: Man has been scuba diving only since 1943, when Jacques Cousteau invented the scuba regulator. From the beginning of time until 1943, these beautiful fish lived in their own world, unseen by human eyes. Yet they were just as beautiful, created that way by God for His own good pleasure. He made them beautiful simply for the sake of making them beautiful. That tells you a lot about the God we worship.
Beauty is an essential part of God's nature. The psalmist wrote, "One thing I ask of the LORD, this is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple" (Psalm 27:4) (emphasis mine). The apostle Paul assumes we have the ability recognize what is aesthetically good when we see it.
Look at the directions God gives for making the Ark of the Covenant, the Tabernacle, the priests' robes, and other such things. The details are intricate, the materials of the highest quality. This is a true craftsman at work. Take, for example, this passage: "[The ephod's] skillfully woven waistband is to be like it -- of one piece with the ephod and made with gold, and with blue, purple and scarlet yarn, and with finely twisted linen" (Exodus 28:8) (emphasis mine). The artisans who were to make these things are the first people in the Bible described as being filled with the Holy Spirit.
Christians are people of the word and the Word. God has chosen to communicate with us through the written word, but he has also chosen to use art -- music, images, poetry -- to help communicate these truths. The rainbow was a piece of art, used to illustrate God's promise to Noah.
During that dive trip to Panama last May, I had one of those epiphanies that come all too infrequently: God loves beauty, whether or not anyone else actually sees that beauty. That tells me I should strive to be "beautiful" in all I do, not because anyone is watching -- although God certainly is -- but to do it simply for its own sake.
When I was in high school I had a friend who was so mechanically inclined, he could set the timing on an engine by balancing a sharpened pencil between his index finger and the manifold and gauging its vibration. Try that in today's cars full of microprocessors and other assorted gadgets that serve mainly to complicate.
Without any formal training, this friend set about rebuilding the transmission on a 1967 VW Bug. (Okay, it was my car. I trusted him.) That's when he made an interesting discovery -- the hard way. In the old VWs, reverse gear was nothing more than first gear with a different sprocket dropped in to reverse the direction of turn. When he was finished, I had a Bug with four reverse gears and one forward.
I thought of that this past weekend when I read a great quote by Ray Ortlund Jr. He said we as the church are losing our radical edge ... because we do not understand this basic doctrine of death to sin, followed by new life, in union with our crucified, buried and risen Lord. We do not see our conversion to Christ as a death to the old life. We see it as a pleasant ornament on our old life -- a little religion added in. We see conversion as a drop of oil to keep the gears of our pagan lives running smoothly, when in fact conversion demands that the gears come to a stop and begin turning in the opposite direction.
It forced me to think of my own "transmission." Too often I'm comfortable with the same old "forward" motion, because that's the way I was already headed, and it's just too hard to change. Going the direction I need to calls for consciously changing gears, which sometimes involves some crunching and grinding -- especially if you try to drop into reverse without first coming to complete halt!
We eventually got my Bug moving in the right direction. I still laugh at our youthful bravado, trying to do something very complicated simply by intuition. It was an important lesson I still sometimes ignore: There's no substitute for reading the manual.
Suzanne's blog referencing Timothy Keller's caution against "brashly" claiming the truths of Christianity to non-believers goes well with an interview I just read of him by First Things. In addition to humbly claiming the truths of Christianity, Keller warns against getting side tracked with non-salvific issues like evolution.
Here he talks about a section in his book, The Reason for God, where he goes into the various problems with different views on creation: I do know that I say in the book, "This is an absolute red herring -- to get mired in this before you look at the certainties of the faith. Because the fact is that real orthodox believers with a high view of Scripture are all over the map on this. I can line up ten really smart people in all those different buckets, which I'll call "theistic evolution," "young-Earth creationism," and let's call it "progressive creationism" or "semi-theistic evolution." There are all these different views. And when you see a lot of smart people disagreeing on this stuff, well ...
How could there have been death before Adam and Eve fell? The answer is, I don't know. But all I know is, didn't animals eat bugs? Didn't bugs eat plants? There must have been death. In other words, when you realize, "Oh wait, this is really complicated," then you realize, "I don't have to figure this out before I figure out is Jesus Christ raised from the dead."
So should we ever debate evolution vs. various forms of creationism with a non-believer? I think so. But we should do it being mindful of the gospel and make sure the non-believer knows they have a much greater problem than explaining how life came from dead chemicals.
In his book God is Not Great, Christopher Hitchens says, "Religion poisons everything." Touchstone writer Logan Paul Gage set out to test the accuracy of Hitchens's claim. Do the religious really have a negative impact on society? The answer is no. In fact, it's the opposite. For starters, regular church attenders are more likely to do good -- particularly men. According to the 2002–2004 GSS, for every 100 altruistic acts—like giving blood or letting someone ahead of you in the checkout line—performed by nonreligious people, the religious perform 144.
Volunteerism also benefits from religion, according to Baylor's Christopher Bader and F. Carson Mencken (finally, a religion-friendly Mencken), who cited the Baylor Religion Survey. Weekly church attendees volunteer more often in their communities, both through the church and through secular organizations.
The correlation is most striking among men. The volunteer rate for weekly-attending men is nearly ten percent higher than for weekly-attending women, whereas on the whole women volunteer much more than men. And while income has very little connection with volunteering, among those with higher incomes (i.e., a family income of $100,000 or more), weekly attendance noticeably correlates with volunteerism.
Studies show that regular church attendance has a stronger tie to volunteerism than education, income or class. Additionally, the religious exhibit more ethical behavior. For nearly 40 years, psychologists and sociologists have studied the connection between religion and various negative outcomes in adolescents. According to one meta-study (a study of the studies), 97 percent of studies found a negative relationship between religion and sexual activity; 94 percent claimed a negative link between alcohol use and religion; and 87 percent alleged a negative correlation between suicide and religion.
Using a sophisticated methodology, Pennsylvania State's Jeffery Ulmer, Purdue's Scott Desmond, and Baylor's Christopher Bader tried to answer why religion tends to inhibit delinquency. Following psychological research showing that self-control is like a muscle, which will grow or atrophy with use or disuse, they concluded that religious observance inhibits deviant behavior in two ways: It increases individuals' self-control, and it provides moral norms. Religious youth display higher self-control against cigarettes, alcohol, and marijuana than their nonreligious peers.
Clearly religion does not poison society as Hitchens would have us believe. In my article "Hypocrite," I considered this same question. Some of my unbelieving friends try to convince me that Christianity is fake, oppressive and bad for society. The truth is religion -- and faith in Christ specifically -- produces good fruit; it's hypocrisy that does the damage.
I remember a day in college when I held a friend's hand and listened. Her face was nearly emotionless, yet her words told of deep frustration. "I can hardly pray," she said. "I feel like my prayers are hitting the ceiling and bouncing off." I prayed for her that day. I prayed that God's comfort would return; that she would be aware of His presence. My heart was able to connect with the Lord in a way hers couldn't that day. In the years that followed, she would return the favor many times.
On TrueU, author Matthew John offers some good thoughts on moving past spiritual dryness -- and encouraging those who may be struggling. He talks about the catalyst 2 Timothy 1:7 has been in his own spiritual growth: "For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline." I particularly liked what he had to say about accepting spiritual power. I don't speak Greek, but I can't help but think Timothy must have been struggling: Sure, he was called to spread the gospel, but Timothy was young and surrounded by a pantheistic culture. Paul reminds his mentee that God's will for him is not that he be timid, but instead that he be assertive, through the power of the Holy Spirit.
That's an exhortation I need sometimes.
I'm a pretty laid back kind of guy. Oftentimes I just assume it's OK for me to sit back and let things happen. God's convicted me that this kind of attitude just won't cut it.
God has taught me not only that I ought to reach out to other young men, but also that I'm able.
I mean, what happens when I get into a relationship? I'm going to have to step up, so to speak, because I believe that, as a man, Christ calls me to be the spiritual leader of that relationship. As Jason Boyett points out in another Men's Hall article, Marriage Prep 101 (Whether You've Met Her Yet or Not)," I need to be preparing for marriage now.
For me, that means learning not only how to lead, but understanding God wants me to.
Part of being spiritually "wet" is engaging with the process of faith. As you read the Bible, what do you feel God wants you to change? How is He urging you to grow? Whom is He prompting you to reach out to? Making these discoveries adds vigor and substance to your walk with Christ and can combat feelings of spiritual monotony. Simply taking action may boost your spiritual enthusiasm. But engaging requires self-discipline. John writes: I do not do mornings, which means I don't get up early to do devotions or whatever you want to call them. But a few weeks ago I decided it was time I give the morning quiet time thing a try. It's been a big adjustment for this self-identified night owl, getting up at 6:26 a.m. every single weekday morning. I have to say, though, the comfort I feel from having started my day with God is worth going to bed a little earlier. It's worth planning ahead so I can give the first part of my day — my "first fruits," as it were — to God.
Overcoming spiritual dryness is not easy. It requires commitment to seek the Lord daily and engage with His Word and the people around you. And when you can't, seek out a Christian brother or sister who can take your hand and help you.
So, as long as we're talking about evangelism and finding the perfect church, how much are you influenced by the church's name? It might sound like a silly question, but clearly a lot Christian groups have thought about it.
Would you be more likely to check out, say, First Baptist Church or The Gathering? Main Street Presbyterian or Mosaic? St. Mark's Lutheran or Common Ground?
The trend to name Christian, um … gatherings/mosaics/grounds in ways that will make them not seem like "church" is just the latest trend that began with the seeker movement. The quintessential seeker-sensitive church, Willow Creek, wouldn't even put a cross on its property lest it trip up some people. (And we now know how well that all worked out.)
But the sentiment has continued with the so-called emergent church. In an effort to be as unlike today's evangelicalism as possible, they shun names normally associated with Christian churches in an effort to make themselves sound more consumer-friendly, more inclusive, more "missional." Unfortunately, in shunning the admittedly not-so-good things about today's evangelicalism, they often shun the things that make Christianity … well, Christianity.
Take, for example, one of the churches with an unchurchy name: the real Mosaic, founded by Erwin McManus. In his book Soul Cravings (a work so eager to be unconventional it even eschews page numbers!), McManus writes, "If you pay attention to your soul, it will guide you to God." Elsewhere he writes, "If you take the time to explore nowhere else except deep within yourself, I have no doubt that you will come face-to-face with God."
McManus is right that we all sense a God-shaped hole within. But merely exploring a hole will get you nowhere. The truth about God is to be found in Scripture, not in some navel-gazing exercise. Otherwise, you wind up with this.
More to the point, these "churches" make the same theological error as the seeker movement: They assume there is such a thing as a sincere "seeker." (Yes, I'm aware of the several verses that talk about seeking, drawing close, answering the door, etc. But note that every one of them is addressed to people already chosen by God, not to those outside a relationship with Him.) Now, I have no doubt that there are people out there "seeking" something, but insofar as they're being wooed by God, we owe it to them to preach the real thing, not the watered-down, inoffensive pap that so many trendy churches seem to think they need.
As Trevin Wax so aptly points out: [M]ost of the non-Christians that I meet with (and most of the Christians I minister to as well) want to do business with serious theological issues, like Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do Christians believe that Jesus is the only way to God? How can a good God send people to hell? Isn’t it intolerant to proselytize? They don't want to hear pontifications on how "these are complex questions… maybe we can search together and eventually find some answers." They want to know what Christians believe.
In a world of gray, black-and-white answers are not a turn-off to unbelievers. They are appealing if explained with grace and love.
The other problem with this movement is it introduces "seekers" to an incomplete Gospel, a one-dimensional Jesus. In his trenchant review of Donald Miller's Blue Like Jazz, a book popular with people who shun conventional Christianity, Shane Walker gets to the heart of the problem: As an evangelistic tract Blue Like Jazz is too narrow. Jesus is presented as a nice fellow who meets one at the campfire and swaps stories. He's a listener, a friend, accepting, warm, kind, and gentle. And Jesus is all these things. But the meta-narrative of the Bible, also reminds us that Jesus is terrible. He is the judge, the king, the warrior, the avenger (Rev. 19:2). The good news is not merely that Jesus wants to listen to your story, but rather that he wants to save you from his just wrath.
The postmodern convert who comes to Christ the friendly listener has yet to meet the authentic Jesus. He's met the aspects of Jesus that are most comforting to contemporary Westerners, but he has never experienced the stripping bare of all fleshly dignity before the reigning king of the universe. And this nakedness before God is necessary for salvation.
The invitation to a "journey of discovery" or to "join the conversation" and similar language that you'll find in so much "emergent" writing does not give the most important truth these people need to hear: Everyone, including you and me, is a sinner in need of a savior. Until you realize this, all the other journeying and conversing are missing the point.
Solomon tells us there is nothing new under the sun, and some of these non-churchy churches are preaching, without realizing it, the same type of liberal Christianity criticized by H. Reinhold Niebuhr more than 60 years ago: A God without wrath brought men without sin into a kingdom without judgment through the ministrations of a Christ without a cross.
So, in reality it doesn't really matter what you call yourselves so long as you preach the full Word of God. But that begs the question: Why would you want to hide that behind some vague, consumer-friendly name? I am a member of the Evangelical Free Church of America, and I’m not ashamed to say that. How about you?
 Mark Dever has written an excellent blog to help free Christians from "the bondage of 'guidance.'" He says that though Christ has given us freedom and liberty in decision making, and the Scriptures and wise counselors to provide direction, many Christians won't make a move unless they receive a "sense of leading" from God.
Here Mark uses a personal example to illustrate how freedom and subjective leading, informed by Scripture and wise counsel, can work together to help us make good choices: I do believe that God's Spirit will sometimes lead us subjectively.
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