Families

One of the many things my family thinks is weird about me is that I like the very first part of Matthew 1, that long genealogy of Christ. But I do; in fact, it's one of my comfort passages.

You see, Jesus' family was just as dysfunctional as mine. Not only that, but a few folks who sinned as much as I do played roles in God's plan to bring us a savior.

In this list you find harlots, philanderers and killers. Rahab, lady of the night who committed treason to save herself; Judah, who slept with his daughter thinking she was a temple prostitute. And oh by the way, he also took part in selling his own brother to slavers. I fit right in.

And there are a bunch of unknowns. Oh sure, Jesus' forebears included Abraham and David, and some others whose lives are fairly well chronicled. But Shealtiel? Azor? Matthan? These are men who didn't do anything that would have been helpful to include in scripture.

They may have lived quiet lives of dedicated faithfulness, in which case they motivate me not to worry too much about huge acts of faith, but instead to live each moment faithfully. Or maybe they were rogues and scoundrels, which reminds me that God uses even the godless to accomplish His ends. No failure on my part will change one detail in His mighty plan.

But the best part, for me, is the stories of God's faithfulness embedded in this genealogy. Boaz, the faithful kinsman-redeemer of the poor Moabite widow Ruth. Isaac, for whom God provided a wife and life partner who shared his faith when he lived among the heathens. Abraham, who was ready to kill his son, and was given a wild ram (hmmm, could that angel have been Gabriel?). Solomon, God's blessing to His people given to David through the wife he stole, Bathsheba.

It just amazes me that through all the centuries, as God worked out His master plan to defeat Satan and save us, He also strewed blessings in every direction, every step of the way. He patiently taught and faithfully provided and sometimes surprised and shocked His people with His goodness. As He brought history to the day of victory, He also gave joy to husbands and wives, comfort to widows and orphans, strength to those He called to serve Him. With God, everything is about more than just one thing, but one of His favorite things is to bless homes and families, and ordinary people in their ordinary lives.

There's a huge amount of hope for me in this genealogy of Jesus. It's always a perfect start to Advent.

Messenger

I usually shift my devotions during Advent, so I'm taking a month-long break from Peter. 

I have the same thought every Advent season: I think Gabriel had a great job. This is what he told Zechariah in Luke 1:19: “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to tell you this good news."

Gabriel was God's messenger. He stood in God's throne room, heard God's plans, and sometimes God would turn to him and say, "I need to you take a message to so-and-so." In addition to his role in the Christmas saga, we know that Gabriel appeared to Daniel in his visions; he's the one who explained what the visions meant. That makes me wonder how many other times in scripture, when an un-named angel brought a message from God (Abraham, Jacob, Gideon, Balaam), it might have been Gabriel.

Even if it was only the few instances when he was named, think of it. Gabriel knew the whole plan. He might have been there the day Satan and his followers were cast down; he certainly understood what Jesus would do here on earth. He had to have know about the cross, but he also likely knew all about the new Zion as described in Hebrews 12, where angels and the saved will rejoice together in the streets.

Knowing all of this, taking messages to Zechariah and Mary that foretold the birth of the Messiah and the one who would prepare the way for him must have been a lot of fun. I don't know if angels experience emotions like we do, but if it were me, I'd feel like a little kid taking part in a great surprise, something you know is going to be really good.

But if it looks like that much fun, why don't I do it? I've been entrusted with the same great message, only after the fact. I've been sent by the same God. But the sad fact is, I like to be the messenger to the ones who have already heard. I don't get excited about telling it to the ones who need it most.

Loyalty

It's funny sometimes how God gets me thinking.

I'm playing a computer game with my sons right now that has strong themes of loyalty. You can choose to take part in a rebellion, presented as liberating the people; you can support the existing government. You can join groups based on your race, or your profession, or your religion. 

This is a secular game set in an alternate world with strong Roman Empire overtones, so all of the religions are pagan, and every clique uses situational ethics. Bad things you do to your enemies are OK, if they result in good things for your friends. 

But what has me thinking is this idea of loyalty. When interests conflict, how do you choose what's right? Life is frequently like that, so it's a question that's been stuck in my mind.

So this morning, the very first sentence I read in Peter is this: "But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord." (1 Peter 3:15).

Conflicting loyalties and situational ethics can bog us down when we forget where our true loyalty lies. When we're trying to avoid stressful confrontations, or disappointing others, or making them dislike us, or emotional or physical pain, all those situations in life are hard to figure out.

But our Lord has a pretty simple set of rules. With Him, it usually isn't hard to figure out what's right, so much as it is to convince ourselves that's what we're really going to do.

Loyalty to Christ means that earthly wealth, position, or relationships are secondary to heavenly ones. We want only as much as we need to live obediently; the rest we give away. Positions of power are of little use; work in soup kitchens becomes more attractive. And the relationship that gets clear priority over every other one is our relationship with God.

It's easy to see in the end where most people's loyalties are. Is it obvious to the world which Lord I serve?

Blessed

Sometimes it's easy to worry. We worry about a lot of things we can't control, like the weather or the economy. We worry about a lot of things that never happen, like losing the farm or an axe murderer ringing the doorbell.

I don't worry very much, but when it comes to the thought of standing up for my faith, sometimes I do. I think may be my peers will think less of me. I wonder if being visibly Christian will make anyone complain - these days you have to be careful about religion at work. I wonder if other managers might respect me less.

When I was a 17-year-old in Basic Training, it took me a week to dare to pray over my meal in the mess hall. I thought I'd be eaten alive; turned out no one really cared, as long as I didn't expect them to.

I need to hear Peter's advice, given in 1 Peter 3:13-14: "Who is going to harm you if you are eager to do good? But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed. 'Do not fear what they fear ; do not be frightened.'"

My problem: I can see people disliking me, or mocking me, as harm. Maybe that's what Peter means when he says not to fear what others fear. We're so sensitive about what people think of us; we want to be respected, valued. We want to be popular.

In my own (possibly peculiar) context, this verse sounds to me like God saying, "Don't worry about what people think; don't be afraid of possible damage to your professional reputation. Most people are going to accept you because everyone likes a good person, and if a few don't, well, that's your chance to prove your faith."

I want to be more like my parents - I can't picture either of the being wishy-washy or apologetic about their faith. They certainly seem to have the blessing this verse promises.

Paybacks

There used to be a saying in the Infantry that paybacks are hard (actually, most soldiers used a different H word, which could also be relevant to these reflections). It was meant as a warning; mess with the Infantry, expect payback.

This morning, though, I thought as I read Peter how true that statement is, but in the opposite way soldiers meant it. If you engage in paybacks, things get hard for you, and may even lead to that other H.

Listen to Peter (1 Peter 3:8-12): "Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble. Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing. For, 'Whoever would love life and see good days must keep his tongue from evil and his lips from deceitful speech. He must turn from evil and do good; he must seek peace and pursue it. For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their prayer, but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.'"

That's why it's wrong to use someone else's bad behavior to justify our own - that's repaying evil with evil. Jesus followers don't get even, Peter says. Our Lord expects us to be a blessing to everyone, no matter how they treat us. That's how we inherit the great blessing of salvation.

This passage suggests that vengeful people should not expect to love life, they shouldn't plan to see good days. In fact, they could wind up with the Lord's face against them. By contrast, God's ears are attentive to the prayers of those who respond to insults with blessings.

That's scary. Paybacks are indeed hard - on the ones delivering them.

Considerate

I think Peter let husbands off easy. Of course, he may recognize that he can't expect as much from men.

But, compared with his instructions to wives to be submissive, he gives this seemingly easy charge to the menfolk: (1 Peter 3:7) "Husbands, in the same way be considerate as you live with your wives, and treat them with respect as the weaker partner and as heirs with you of the gracious gift of life, so that nothing will hinder your prayers."

Be considerate. All I have to do is consider her. Consider her desires, her viewpoint, her feelings, her moods, her needs . . . OK, maybe not so easy after all. Because being considerate is more than just considering, it's changing things so they line up with what you perceive about the other person's wants.

So on the way home, instead of thinking about how tired I am and what I feel like doing, I should be thinking about what I know of her day, how she's probably feeling, and what she would like me to do. For me, that's really hard. Maybe, as a friend once pointed out, God specifically mentions the things He knows we'll struggle with.

I don't know what to make of the reference to "weaker partner." Maybe I can lift more than Dawn, but I don't think I'm stronger than her in any other way. She's a tough cookie, and I don't think God puts a lot of value on which of us can do more push-ups. Maybe in some way wives are more vulnerable because they love their families so much.

What scares me a little about this verse is that it ends with a warning of sorts, a suggestion that not heeding could result in hindered prayer. Those days when I'm a self-centered jerk, that will impact my prayer life. Obviously I may not be as inclined to pray when I'm being like that, but Peter makes it sound like there's more. Maybe less of my prayers will accord with God's will when I'm being selfish.

Even though I don't always feel like chatting, or cuddling, or a concert, there's more to giving in than just keeping the peace or being nice. There's something about being considerate that she needs spiritually and that I am to provide as part of my obligation to her and my service to God.

Wives

I almost skipped over a passage today - the first time I've wanted to. The passage is 1 Peter 3:1-6: "Wives, in the same way be submissive to your husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives, when they see the purity and reverence of your lives. Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to make themselves beautiful. They were submissive to their own husbands, like Sarah, who obeyed Abraham and called him her master. You are her daughters if you do what is right and do not give way to fear."

A wise man doesn't attempt to instruct his wife on how to be a better wife. Or even to try to make a point about it with women in general. And even if I felt competent to do so, I'd be uneasy because it's obvious that I benefit. So, I'd like to be let off the hook today.

But it is scripture and I need to understand it. The phrase "in the same way" points back to the part of Peter's letter relating to Jesus not retaliating, but trusting to a just God. That and the final phrase "do not give way to fear" make us husbands sound like a pretty unpleasant bunch - "When your husband treats you like a slave or is mean to you, doing those frightening things, submit." I suppose for a newly converted Christian woman in Peter's time, married either to a pagan or a devout Jew, it could be rough.

A takeaway for me is that I should never make the submission God requires of my wife a burden for her, and certainly not a cause for fear, or something that tempts her to retribution.

I think the part about beauty doesn't prohibit things that make women look and feel beautiful - there's nothing wrong with looking your best. The point here is just as valid for men: The peace and kindness and gentleness that comes from being Godly will be more appealing to the kind of person you want to be with than whatever physical bait you're trolling with. Conversely, the partner you attract solely with your physical self is likely to disappoint you somewhere down the road.

What I want to say to my wife is, "Submit to God." I'll happily live with the outcome. But that's a cop-out, because scripture says she should submit to me. I just want to be worth it.

No retaliation

I'm not very good at turning the other cheek. It's not that I get even, but I'm not inclined to take a lot of guff. When people start in on me, I can usually find a way to make them back off.

Sometimes that seems like a good thing. After all, this is America, where we admire rough individualism, where a man is expected to stand on his own two feet, to pull his own weight, not to need help from anyone. Our society doesn't think much of you if you let others get the best of you.

That's not Christlike, though, not the way Peter describes Christ. 1 Peter 2:23-25: "When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly. He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed. For you were like sheep going astray, but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls."

Jesus let people dis him; he let them hurt him, and he never said a word. It takes a tough man to do that. It takes a huge amount of self-confidence to let other people yammer at you and not respond. And it takes patience and tolerance. In Jesus case, it also was love; he took a lot from people because He loves us. Kind of like when a long-suffering wife excuses what her husband does when he's drunk, Jesus knew that we behave badly because we're under the influence of Satan.

So what's a guy to do? What Jesus did: " . . . entrusted himself to him who judges justly." Trust God, the ultimate fair Judge. That worked for Jesus because he had nothing to lose or fear from being judged; He was perfect. It works for us because of what's stated in verses 24 and 25: Jesus already took the judgment for our sins.

So there's no need to retaliate, nothing to gain by striking back. I'm covered, my judgment has been made, in my favor. That frees me to be concerned about the other person, and what I can do to help him.

Beatings

Sometimes scripture seems so relevant for today. Sometimes, not so much. Today I was really tempted to write some things off as in-applicable, but I have learned to be cautious in doing so.

Here's the passage I'm wrestling with (1 Peter 2:18-20) "Slaves, submit yourselves to your masters with all respect, not only to those who are good and considerate, but also to those who are harsh. For it is commendable if a man bears up under the pain of unjust suffering because he is conscious of God. But how is it to your credit if you receive a beating for doing wrong and endure it? But if you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God."

Obviously the idea of slavery and beatings are abhorrent, and the easy answer is that we are now in a new time and these things don't exist anymore. Slavery is far from dead in this world, and beatings a commonplace. I wonder what Peter would really say to a modern-day slave?

What I struggle with is that I understand God to be un-changing, and principles are supposed to be timeless. So if there was ever a time when God condoned slavery, then dare I say He changed His mind? That's one of three alternatives facing me. The other two are just as hard for me to grasp: that Peter made a mistake that somehow got incorporated into scripture, or that God is willing to overlook sins that are societal norms.

Obviously, I haven't resolved this question. The rest of the passage is actually pretty easy for me. Suffer unjustly? Of course that's going to happen; I've seen it hundreds of times. In those cases, I can choose to fight back, to get even, but then I look just like the world. That brings no glory to God. If I choose to accept the injustice in the name of a greater principle, there are two good outcomes. My strength and character grows because I chose obedience over my own rights, and the world sees and wonders.

But the whole slavery-beating thing? Even without understanding, I just have to accept that God is God, and He is good. Sometimes faith takes faith.

Authority

You can tell Peter wasn't an American.

Listen to this (1 Peter 2:13-17): "Submit yourselves for the Lord’s sake to every authority instituted among men: whether to the king, as the supreme authority, or to governors, who are sent by him to punish those who do wrong and to commend those who do right. For it is God’s will that by doing good you should silence the ignorant talk of foolish men. Live as free men, but do not use your freedom as a cover-up for evil; live as servants of God. Show proper respect to everyone: Love the brotherhood of believers, fear God, honor the king."

See? I mean, really. Submit? Hey, not only do I question whether the guy's a Christian, he's a Democrat! And my boss? Nice guy, but some days he's not smart enough to pour water out of a boot (potentially job-saving disclaimer: this is rhetoric; my boss actually is brilliant). And then there's my wife - so emotional (potentially marriage-saving disclaimer: more rhetoric). If I submitted to everyone in authority positions, I wouldn't have a life at all.

Besides, the ignorant talk of foolish men is our national pastime, our favorite spectator sport. We call it "Internet." Or maybe talk radio.

Peter doesn't care about that, because God doesn't. Do good, to silence the foolish. Don't use freedom as a cover-up for evil. This kind of life is God's will, not whether or not I get home in time to watch the game.

So unless it's an unlawful order, I should submit. Does submitting include not undermining? No backstabbing, no griping, no gossip? Aw, rats . . .

As usual, probably best to focus on the action items: respect everyone, love the believers, fear God, honor Obama. A short, simple list that even I can remember.

War

As a society, we're pretty averse to war, and I guess that's a good thing - we do, after all, follow the Prince of Peace. But I wonder sometimes if we just don't want the sacrifice and hard work that is necessary to fight. I have thought frequently over the past decade that we don't have enough willpower and discipline to sustain a war.

I thought that again this morning, when I read this from 1 Peter 2:11-12: "Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul. Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us."

Usually this verse makes me think about being alien, but this morning the word "war" leaped out at me. War is more than just a fight, it's a sustained, focused effort that will involve multiple battles, with a lot of preparation and resources put into them. War is serious business, and defending yourself in time of war takes as much diligence and sacrifice as attacking.

In this case, I need diligence against sinful desires, because through them Satan makes war on my soul. I think the business about being aliens is just to remind me that what seems good in this world isn't good for me, because I don't really belong here.

I like to live as though I were a native, though. I want to belong here; truth is, I'm not in any hurry to get back home.

Maybe that's why it's easy to be casual about sin. Sometimes it doesn't seem like a big deal if I do it once; it seems likely there will be many days between now and Judgment Day, a lot of chances to get it right. And sometimes it seems like such a minor sin: one bad word, or one little tidbit of gossip, or one gluttonous meal, or one extra drink. I don't often think of sin as mortal danger.

But it is. I'm in a war, and if I don't want to lose I have to stay safe inside the defenses. Because that's what sin does: it lures me outside the wire, where I'm vulnerable. God is a mighty fortress, one Satan can't come close to threatening. His only viable strategy is deceit. If he can get me to think it's safe out there, and lure me away from God, he knows I'll be easy meat.

Peter's strategy is the opposite. He says I should live such a good life (which means completely resisting sin's temptation) that the pagans, the ones Satan thinks he already owns, can see what a great God I have. If I do this, I'll win some of them over, a victory for God and a defeat for the devil.

Chosen

1 Peter 2:9-10: "But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy."

These verses make me uncomfortable. Being chosen is usually good, like being picked for the team. But that implies something of worth that I would bring, a reason that I was chosen. In this case, I know there is no more value to me than in the person God didn't choose, so that makes it feel random, like a great spiritual lottery. That isn't right either, because God doesn't do random. So there was a reason for choosing me that really has nothing to do with anything I bring to the table. It's confusing and doesn't seem fair.

Since I don't understand the how, maybe it's best to look at the why: So that I can praise God.

After all, if he picks me because of my rugged good looks or ability to do one-armed push-ups, then I can brag about myself. Since He chose me even though there's not a single thing I can do that He needs, all that's left is to tell people," Wow! Can you believe it? He just came along, lifted me out of the mud, cleaned me up and gave me new clothes, and took me home with Him. I still can't figure out why, dirty and smelly as I was."

God took me from darkness into light. My response shouldn't be to obsess over the fairness of it, or to look for something in me that makes me a good choice. Just like I tell everyone about the great deal I got on my last purchase, or about the incredibly lucky thing that happened to me, I should be eager to tell the world about God and what He has done for me.

Destined

1 Peter 2:6-8 says "For in Scripture it says: 'See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen and precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame.' Now to you who believe, this stone is precious. But to those who do not believe, 'The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone,' and, 'A stone that causes men to stumble and a rock that makes them fall.' They stumble because they disobey the message–which is also what they were destined for."

Peter was talking about building us into a spiritual house, and now he adds Jesus as the cornerstone. But things stop feeling good pretty quickly. For those who trust, this is good. For those who disobey, this is the rock that will trip them up.

The chilling part is that Peter says disobedience is what these people were destined for. This was God's plan - remember, "Jacob have I loved, and Esau I hated." Some were created to show God's mercy, others to show His judgment.

I don't like thinking about this. For one thing, it doesn't seem fair (although the only really fair thing would be to destroy us all.) For another, I disobey. When you take into account what I think and not just what I do, it feels like I disobey a lot. Just because I try not to make it the pattern for my life, that doesn't seem enough to justify my election vs. someone else's damnation.

Election is one of those things where I just have to trust God. Give me half a reason from scripture and I'd like to become a universalist - I'd like everyone to end up in Heaven. But scripture doesn't support that, and Peter doesn't either.

In the end, I'm grateful that to me the cornerstone is precious, because I know I didn't put myself in that group. By grace, God did.

Built up

No deep thoughts today, just some pleasurable reflection on God's providence.

1 Peter 2:4-5 is only tangentially about providence. "As you come to him, the living Stone –rejected by men but chosen by God and precious to him– you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ."

My gratitude for providence relates to two things.

First, I'm being built up, not building myself up. I'm grateful that this work, so important to me, doesn't have to be done by someone as weak as me.

Second, the building involves fitting me into the group. Peter uses the analogy of a house, with each stone fit into place, and also of a holy priesthood. I relate a little better to the second example, because it makes me think of a group of like-minded people joined together in a common purpose - kind of like an Army unit. I'm grateful that I'm not expected to do the work alone, but that I am a part of something bigger than me.

I also like the work: offering spiritual sacrifices. Sacrifices of time, of money, of love . . . all my work is really an offering. And if i bring my best offering, God will accept it because Jesus will make up the difference between what I do and perfection.

That's why I'm thinking about providence: God takes this Mission Impossible of renewing Greg into something useful and acceptable, and makes it doable by joining me with the saints, and with Jesus Himself. The simple act of coming to Jesus results in me being built up.

Tasting

Peter writes in 1Peter 2:2-3, "Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good."

Any parent is going to relate to this. We've all gone through the process of getting a three-year-old to try something new. "Taste it!" we urge. But if it has sauce, or is green, or looks different in any way, or even just sounds different (my grandson loves pork chops but refused pork roast), it can take a lot of coercion to get them to stick it in their mouths the first time.

Kids are that way because they have to decide to trust mom over their own lack of experience, and because they want to go for the sure thing, something they know is good because they've had it before. Moms are usually right because they know and love their children. The result: once the child tries it, they like it. Often they crave it.

That's what Peter is saying. "Now that you're given God a try and found out how good He is, crave that spiritual nourishment that you need to grow." As infant believers, we need milk, but even adults should drink milk along with the more complex foods they eat. What a shame if we were ever to lose our love for the basic goodness of God,

The word "crave" is an interesting choice here - it's an extreme word. People lost in the desert crave water. Addicts crave drugs. That word suggests an all-consuming need; nothing matters as much to a person with a craving as finding satisfaction for it. Is that how we are with God? It would be nice to think so, but sometimes there are so many choices on the buffet line that the attraction to God isn't that overwhelming.

Crave, Peter says, so that you can grow. Lay off the junk food and eat right.

To don't

1 Peter 2:1 is one of those great live-like-this lists, although this one is really a not-to-do list. Peter says, "Therefore, rid yourselves of all malice and all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and slander of every kind." The "therefore" refers to what he says in chapter one about our salvation. Because of God's grace, Peter says, I need to clean house, throw out some stuff I won't need anymore.

Malice - that's wanting bad things to happen to others. No more hoping that opposing player gets knocked out of the game. Or that a rival embarrasses herself in front of the world.

Deceit - misleading others about what you do or think. Don't lie, don't imply. Instead, open up a window to that inner room of secrets and let everyone see. Tell the truth about what I did and why. Admit things. Let the sun shine in and kill the mold. Of course, living so I don't want to lie about it is the bigger challenge.

Hypocrisy - that's pretending I'm better than I am. The trick is, I get so good at going along with expectations, it's hard to know when I'm being a hypocrite. The difference probably is in whether or not I'm trying to impress anyone.

Envy - that's being jealous when something good happens to someone else. Paul often pairs it with malice (see above) to describe how we relate to others outside of grace - there's an example early in Titus 3. I should rejoice in the good fortune of others; our God has an abundance of blessings, enough for all.

Slander - saying bad things about people. Peter adds "of all kinds" so I can't infer, or just pass on what someone else told me. We're supposed to build people up, not tear them down.

Think of the potential impact on my relationships: just being myself, totally transparent, harming no one and rejoicing with everyone. Looks like I have a lot to don't today.