work, work, work

A lot of people think being a Christian is a drag. To an unbeliever, my religion can look like a bunch of rules and not much fun. 

I can see why they think that, especially when I read Paul’s first letter to the church in Thessalonica. Look at what he’s thankful for (1:2-3): “We always thank God for all of you and continually mention you in our prayers. We remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.”

He remembers their work, labor and endurance. And later on he underscores the point by reminding them how hard he worked when he lived with them.

That sounds attractive, doesn’t it. Work and labor? Challenges that require endurance? Sign me up!

But then I look at the other words: work is produced by faith. Labor is prompted by love. Endurance is inspired by hope. My faith makes me eager to work alongside God as he reaches out to the world. My love prompts me to labor in service to God’s people. My hope inspires me to continue on as the world laughs. 

The truth? When I look at the cross, I’m so grateful that I want to do work and endure. I’m eager for it. It gives my life meaning, it gives me a chance to do something for King Jesus. It brings me joy. And isn’t that what all of us want? Meaning in life, and joy as we live it?

Godless chatter

I can’t forget a line from a play I watched several years ago about the work of a local missionary. One converted African tribesman, when told by his friends that they didn’t want to hear more about Jesus, told them, “Then go away. I have no talk but Jesus talk.”

Reading 2 Timothy and thinking of that line, I’m convicted about my own talk. One of the things Paul advises Timothy is to make his speech matter. In 2:16 he writes, “Avoid godless chatter, because those who indulge in it will become more and more ungodly.” A few verses farther on, in verse 23, he says “Don't have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they produce quarrels.”

Godless chatter is anything that doesn’t focus me on God. It seems like a perfect description for much of what I hear at work, or see online. Gossip, off-color jokes, candidate-bashing, talking about others behind their backs, all these things seem godless to me. Most TV shows and movies are godless, especially in the way they get us to think about how we relate to others, seductively or violently. 

And what about foolish and stupid arguments? I don’t argue a lot, but I do sometimes. I can’t remember the last time I argued about anything of substance. Usually it’s about whether the ref got the call right, or whose fault it is that we’re out of Kleenex, or whether or not Dawn actually told me something. How’s that for foolish and stupid.

When I speak thoughtlessly, I risk becoming more ungodly (and dragging others down with me), and I provoke quarrels, which disrupt relationships. What percentage of my words are spent on things like these? A lot, I’m afraid.

“I have no talk but Jesus talk.” What a wonderful claim to be able to make!

Blessings for evil

Peter is a great guy to read during an election year. 

For example, how’s this, from 1 Peter 2:17: “Show proper respect to everyone, love the family of believers, fear God, honor the emperor.” Or maybe 3:9: “Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.” Or even 3:15-16: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander.”

The way we Christians do political discourse isn’t always very Godly. My friends on Facebook are very willing to say insulting things about President Obama, or Hillary Clinton, or, depending who they are, anyone opposed to Ted Cruz. The memes go beyond insulting sometimes, and get close to slander. And if you’re a squeamish person, don’t read the comments. It only takes a few before they degenerate to name-calling and profanity. And that’s the Christians. The unbelievers can be worse.

Peter would say, “Show proper respect to everyone. Repay their insults with blessing. Give your answers to why you believe with gentleness and respect.” Why? Because that’s how we inherit God’s blessing. That’s how we shame them for their slander. That’s how we make people wonder what makes us so different.

Someone else's snark doesn't justify mine. God has higher expectations of me than that.

shooting my wounded

There’s a guy I have to work with sometimes who doesn’t pull his weight. He’s kind of a princess -- needy, whiny, entitled. I complain (behind his back) every time we’re on a team. And even when we’re not, I’m growing more and more critical of everything he does.

So when I read Ephesians 4:29, I don’t feel very good about myself. That verse says “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.”

I don’t very often try to build this person up, and I know I’m damaging him every time I badmouth him. And I’m not helping the people I talk to either.

Oh, and that part in the verse that says “according to their needs?” This guy has family problems I sure wouldn’t want, health problems and dysfunctional relationships that would drag anyone down. What he really needs is a listening ear and some consideration for how hard his life actually is. What I give him, even though he never knows it, is another kick in the ribs.

Why do I do it? Because I forget two things: That he and I are both broken people trying to get whole again, and that my grateful response to Jesus needs to be that I love his people. I forget because I’m too focused on getting what I want done, and he’s a drag on my efficiency.

But he’s a brother - yes, I’m talking church work, not my day job - and he’s wounded. Instead of shooting him, I should give first aid, at least until a better medic than me comes along.

Here’s the thing: if I didn’t have unwholesome thoughts, then unwholesome words wouldn’t be a problem. I need to fix the way I think. I need to value what God values, and do what Paul admonishes elsewhere: think about good and beautiful things.

heroes and witnesses

I’m behind on my movie watching. I haven’t seen the last two Hobbit movies, and stalled on the Avenger series at Thor II.

Of course, the serious Calvinist inside me says don’t bother, but there’s some really good analysis out there that suggests movies like this tap the need that we all have for a Savior. Everyone wants to know there’s something or someone out there stronger than the evil. We need heroes.

Hebrews 11 is the famous chapter about heroes of the faith. I read it again this morning and it is inspiring. It’s like reading the Cliff Notes version of the Old Testament. But this morning, three things struck me about this group.

First, they were all sinners like me. In fact, verse 34, as part of a list of what made them so successful, says that their weakness was turned to strength. The only thing special about this group was their total dependency on God.

Second, this is the cloud of witnesses that watches me run my own race (Heb 12:1ff). Too often we read Hebrews 11 and 12 separately, and miss the fact that these witnesses aren’t generic, they have names like Abraham and Gideon. That’s supposed to inspire me; these heroes are in the stands cheering me on, like former team members still wearing the school jersey.

But the third thing is that, as inspiring as it is to have these faith heroes watching my race, there’s a better hero for my wall poster: Jesus himself. 12:3 recommends that I consider Jesus, who endure so much opposition from the world, as my inspiration not to grow weary and lose heart.

Oh, and one other thing that’s noted about all the great faith heroes: they didn’t get comfortable here on earth, fitting in and chasing earthly goals. No, 11:16 says, “Instead, they were longing for a better country - a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for him.”

There’s the goal of running well. And those are heroes to inspire.

Therefore . . .

“Therefore” is one of my favorite words.

Admittedly, I don’t use it much, or hear it much, but I read it a lot, especially in the New Testament. And, in scripture, when I read “Therefore,” I know things, if you’ll pardon a badly over-used buzz-phrase, are about to get real.
Hebrews 10:19 is a great example. The authors have spend nine and a half chapters explaining in detail everything Jesus did to fulfill God’s promises, especially the promist to save us. And then we get that wonderful word, “Therefore . . . “ and some practical words about how this applies to my life. That’s what I love about that word: It can mean either “Here’s why you care” or “Here’s what you do.”

In Hebrews 10, if we noodle through it, we end up with a nice little list of three to-dos:
1. Draw near to God with a sincere heart and the full assurance that faith brings. Whatever direction you’re heading, turn to face God and walk that way. Or run, depending on your need.
2. Hold unswervingly to the hope we profess. That hope, remember, is guaranteed by God himself, it’s a sure thing. It’s the anchor for our souls, so if we let go, we could drift anywhere.
3. Consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Living for Jesus is hard. Most of the world wants us to fail, and every day people drag us down. We need to encourage each other to be like Jesus, full of love and always doing good things.

The Why for all this came in all those earlier chapters; now, I have this three-part instruction on how to show my thanks for the wonder of my salvation. And, by the way, to start living the benefits immediately.

The best guarantee ever

The guy building my house just told me, “That’ll be done in three weeks. I guarantee it.” I hope he’s right.

I read about hope in Hebrews this morning. A lot of Hebrews 6 is about hope, including a passage (v7 and following) that says, “Because God wanted to make the unchanging nature of his purpose very clear to the heirs of what was promised, he confirmed it with an oath. God did this so that . . . we who . . . take hold of the hope set before us may be greatly encouraged. We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” Later verses discuss how Jesus guarantees this new hope.

Here’s what hit me: the hope that anchors our souls is a sure thing because it comes with a God-given triple-warranty. First, the Father swore on his own name that his promises to us would be true, in the Old Testament. Second, Jesus sealed the truth of those promises with his blood. And third, Jesus, the great high priest, is working now to make our hope reality.

The Father guaranteed our hope with his covenant. Jesus guaranteed it with his death and resurrection. So this future we hope for, the promise of peace, the end to pain and sorrow, the glory of eternal, heavenly life, will happen. It. Will. Happen. It can’t not happen.

That’s how this hope is way different than me hoping my builder comes through - nothing can prevent it from being fulfilled. I can’t stop it, Satan can’t stop it, all the endless bickering and backbiting of a bitter, lost world can’t stop it. Every promise of God, especially his covenantal promise to take care of us and bring us home, is a sure thing. It’s already done.

Think about that when life gets too much.