burdens

Sometimes, scripture makes me think I’m too much a child of our culture and not enough a child of Christ.

I thought that this morning when I read this, in Galatians 6:3-5: “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. If anyone thinks they are something when they are not, they deceive themselves. Each one should test their own actions. Then they can take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else, for each one should carry their own load.”

I was struck by a seeming inconsistency: why does Paul call us to carry each other’s burdens, but carry our own load? How does that make sense? It doesn’t if I think a load and a burden are the same thing. But what if they’re different?

A burden is a weight that bogs me down, makes it hard for me to move forward. A load, on the other hand, could be seen as the normal amount that is carried in order to accomplish something. In the Infantry I had a defined combat load that I was expected to carry. On the other hand, there were burdens (batteries, extra water, mines, etc.) that we took turns with.

Paul calls us, it seems, to do our fair share of the work, but to help anyone weighed down by abnormal circumstances. The problem is, we Americans expect not to have to carry any load. To us, a load and a burden are too often the same thing. A sign of success in our culture is when you have other people carry stuff for you.

I think as much as we’re charged to help each other through tough things, we’re also charged not to put our load on someone else. We shouldn’t make our normal lives something dramatic that others have to pray us through or help us with. We shouldn’t expect those church resources to be spent on us during our times of calm and blessing.

We should, however, find peace in the idea that on the days when one more thing gets dropped on our backs, or the path under our feet gets slick or muddy, then our Christian friends will be there as long as we need them. In fact, they expect to.

Loads are different than burdens. I should expect always to be carrying something. Always some of my own stuff, and sometimes some things for other people. But never does a Christian get to walk empty-handed.

devouring

Sometimes Paul boils things down so much that I wonder why he needed to write all those long letters full of run-on sentences. It’s a reminder that the Bible message is both complex and wonderfully simple.

One of those nut-shell passages is Galatians 5:14-15: “For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.”

Everything required of me, Paul says, comes down to this one thing: Love other people as much as I love myself. To wish for them all the good things I want for me. To think of their needs as quickly and frequently as I do mine. To pray for them as often as I pray for myself and my loved ones. And then, after wishing and thinking and praying, to do for them whatever I can.

Not just some neighbors. Each neighbor that God puts in my life.

There’s an alternative, Paul says. Just keep looking down our noses at each other, biting and snapping until we completely destroy each other. Survival of the fittest, which will eventually mean the death of most. It’s exactly what we see in our national dialogue. That’s an unattractive option, leading to a miserable life.

Far better, then, what Paul writes that Jesus commands: Love, for all those near my home and my office, the ones I run into online and in the gas station. Love, like I love myself.

Simple. So why do I struggle?

children of the free woman

I think it’s human nature to want to be in control. Even small children soon get to the “let me do it” phase. As school kids we chafe at being told what to do and where to go, and as adults we avoid situations where we can’t call the shots.

That’s why salvation is so hard sometimes. We control none of it. We want to do something. We want to know the standard; we want a yardstick to measure ourselves against. We want goals we can throw ourselves into. We, in the end, want the law because that’s how we know if we’re doing it right, and better than others.

But Paul writes this, in Galatians 4:21-26: “Tell me, you who want to be under the law, are you not aware of what the law says? For it is written that Abraham had two sons, one by the slave woman and the other by the free woman. His son by the slave woman was born according to the flesh, but his son by the free woman was born as the result of a divine promise.

These things are being taken figuratively: The women represent two covenants. One covenant is from Mount Sinai and bears children who are to be slaves: This is Hagar. Now Hagar stands for Mount Sinai in Arabia and corresponds to the present city of Jerusalem, because she is in slavery with her children. But the Jerusalem that is above is free, and she is our mother.”

The law says that if we fail, we die - the wages of sin is death. And we’ve already failed, and will never be able to get back on top of our corruption. When we want the law, we want to be children of Hagar, who was Abraham’s earthly solution to his lack of a heir. We want to be our own solution, but that way we die.

Paul reminds us that in Jesus we’re children of Sarah, the free woman, the rightful wife and intended mother. That’s where we find love and forgiveness, in the family of God. 

Why, then, having tasted grace, do we go back so willingly to legalism? That’s Paul’s question, and it’s a good one. If we want abundant life, and eternal life, all we have to do is give up control.

That might be too much. But I’m going to try.

in vain

As I mature, so does my works-based religion. 

I used to struggle with my desire to win something from God through the things I did, or at least the belief that those things should earn me something. Tithing, church-going, service, all in my mind added up to the kind of life that was worth something.

I know now (I knew then, too, but it’s still hard to work through) that salvation doesn’t work that way. 

But, if I’m not careful, I now substitute “being” instead of “doing” and wind up in the same place. Being a thoughtful, patient person, or a truthful person, or kinder, or gentler, or more loving - these are the new aspirations by which I gage my usefulness to God, and therefore his love for and forgiveness of me.

So it’s good for me to have Paul pull me up short again and call me out for the fool I sometimes am. Here’s what he says in Galatians 3:2-4: “I would like to learn just one thing from you: Did you receive the Spirit by the works of the law, or by believing what you heard? Are you so foolish? After beginning by means of the Spirit, are you now trying to finish by means of the flesh? Have you experienced so much in vain—if it really was in vain?”

Yes, Paul, I am so foolish. After beginning by means of the Spirit, I now sometimes think to finish either by good deeds or by being good. On the days I fall into that old thinking, my faith experiences have been in vain.

One way not to be a fool is to listen to wise counselors. Today I’m listening to Paul, who pushes me back to the fundamentals of my faith. Today, I’m trying to focus on the amazing fact of the cross, the grave, the resurrection, and the ascension of my Lord, and my grateful response. 

Perfect timing, because it’s Passion Week.

hypocrite

“Sometimes you have to go along to get along.” That’s what a Christian co-worker often says when he thinks speaking out for our faith will be disruptive in the office. It’s also the way a lot of Christians think about inclusion and diversity. 

There’s an early example in Galatians 2:11-13: “When Cephas came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned. For before certain men came from James, he used to eat with the Gentiles. But when they arrived, he began to draw back and separate himself from the Gentiles because he was afraid of those who belonged to the circumcision group. The other Jews joined him in his hypocrisy, so that by their hypocrisy even Barnabas was led astray.”

Too often when I read the Bible I relate to the bad guys. I get Cephas. I find that new and different people are interesting and engaging, and add a lot to my life, right up to the moment when my tribe, my friends and family, disagree. It’s like I’m right back in middle school, watching the cool group to figure out how I should act and doing what they valued to try to be accepted.

Sometimes I find the courage to speak up when others are put down at family gatherings or during church fellowship. Sometimes I try to get people to see the longing for safety and inclusion that drives most immigrants, illegal or otherwise. I point out that guns are scary to people who aren’t experienced with them. I mention that members of the other party are often just as patriotic and love our country as much, they just see different solutions. I challenge the labels that we slap on people we don’t want to understand.

Often when I do that both sides end up frustrated and angry, because these days being right is more important to us than most other things. Those times, the pushback makes those attempts too painful. Usually I just nod my head and make simple, monosyllabic responses that keep conversations from turning into arguments. 

So I can be as much of a hypocrite as Cephas, and often am. I can enjoy my Somali friends at work and my Tanzanian all-grown-up Compassion child who found us on Facebook, and then keep silent to all the racist and anti-immigrant comments from my peers. And, I can turn around and judge the people who aren’t like me but who my friends or family value.

It’s hard to be as constant as Paul. I relate better to Cephas and Barnabas. But Jesus is the most constant and faithful of all; Jesus loved everyone, even those who killed him. And, much as I want to be accepted by my tribe, I want to be loved by Jesus even more.

approval

It’s hard not to live for approval. We learn that from an early age - life is better when Mom and Dad like what we’re doing, when teachers and classmates like us, and when our crushes turn out to crush us back. 

In fact, that’s how cultures are said to form. A school or business culture is shaped by what social science calls social rewards. When we do things our peers like, they affirm us. When we do things they don’t think much of, there are many ways, subtle and overt, by which they show us their disapproval. 

As I think about culture this morning, I consider Galatians 1:10: “Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.”

Paul didn’t care much whether others were happy with him, so long as Jesus was. What would our various cultures look like if we all were that way? What if the only actions or interactions that received cultural rewards were the same ones Jesus would affirm? 

That kind of culture would value love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. I know that, because these are the fruits of the Spirit. It would value faith, hope and love, as Paul wrote so eloquently in 1 Corinthians 13. It would affirm honoring your parents, and not bearing false witness, and having no other gods than the one true God, as we learn from the Ten Commandments.

That’s what our churches should all look like, and any other institution over which we fly the banner of Christ. But it’s also what our homes and businesses and social circles and political parties should be. It should be our goal for all our cultures.

That’s why I’m a Reformed Christian - because to follow Jesus is to be involved in reforming this world. And it starts with who and what I give my social reward to and for, and who I seek them from.

courage, strength and love

There’s a lot of chatter about guns right now. Some people fear them and wish they could get rid of them. Others see guns as part of American culture, and gun ownership as a fundamental right. Guns fit right in with the idea of rugged independence that many Americans prize. Let us arm ourselves, they say, and we can be the sheepdogs who guard against the wolves.

Paul had some of those same values; in 1 Corinthians 16:13 he said, “Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong.” Good, stout words that appeal to our stand-up-and-do-something ideologies. 

But then Paul added verse 14: “Do everything in love.” 

Of course Paul wasn’t talking about weapons but about living faithfully in a sinful world. But he’s addressing the same issue we’re talking about in our school-safety debate: there are, in this world, bad people who would attack us for our beliefs. How, then, should we live?

In that context, I note a couple of things here. First, Paul doesn’t encourage us to live in a bunker. He doesn’t say to harden ourselves as targets. In some circumstances those actions are prudent, but in general Paul seems to accept that we will always have to live with these people. He seems to think that we should go about our lives normally, but be on guard.

More importantly, though, he encourages a very un-American response to these people: love. Even if, he says, we have to be brave and on our guard, and act in strength, we should do those things in love. 

How can we do that? I think the idea is that, even as we do the things we have to do, we want the best for everyone. The best would be for these people to change their thinking, to stop attacking us, to be moved to live obediently. They probably won’t, but if that’s what we genuinely want for them, we’ll deal with whatever restrain the situation permits. We’ll listen and explain, if possible, before we call names or dismiss them. We’ll even be moved to pray for them.

It’s hard to love people who we have to be on our guard against. But it is possible, and it’s what Jesus expects.

first importance

I wonder, what’s the most important news I ever got? Was it that “yes” from my wife when I proposed? Word that we were going to be parents, or grandparents? Mobilization orders from the Guard?

None of those. I agree on this point with Paul who wrote in 1 Corinthians 15:3-5: "For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, and then to the Twelve."

First can be used as a category - there are four number-one seeds in the annual college basketball tournament we call March Madness, for example. But I don’t think that’s how Paul means it here.

In this case, there can be only one thing in first place. The gospel of Jesus Christ is the most important thing Paul ever heard or preached, and it’s the most important news I or the Corinthians ever received.

News like that should change everything. In fact, it did. But can people tell it did by watching me?

grow up

Like a lot of things, it appears we may have gotten the whole idea of “adult” wrong. We think of adult as a permissive category; adults get to do whatever they want. Adult movies can show whatever they want. Adult night clubs are the same way. “Adult” means there aren’t many constraints, so keep the kiddies away.

Paul didn’t see it that way. He wrote the church in Corinth, in 1 Corinthians 14:10: “Brothers and sisters, stop thinking like children. In regard to evil be infants, but in your thinking be adults.”

That church was full of men and women who thought they could do what they want. They were living that permissive idea. And Paul pulled them up short. “No,” he said, “little kids think like that. You need to think like adults.”

Turns out God’s plan for adults is self-control. It’s being thoughtful toward others. It’s letting go of our dependence so we can become interdependent. We need each other to build the kingdom.

I think it might be time for a lot of us to grow up. Adult doesn’t mean anything goes. It means putting yourself last.

the greatest is love

I wonder how any people know the Bible only by 1 Corinthians 13. This is the famous love chapter, and it’s one we grab onto for romantic purposes, like weddings. After all, what could be better for a couple than verse 13?

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

As simple as it is, this is one of my favorite passages, but not for romantic reasons. To me, this is a verse about missions, and about life.

Paul wrote this to a bickering church, one where certain puffed-up leaders made a big deal out of their gifts and their status. So verses 1-3 of this “love chapter” talk about those gifts - speaking in tongues, prophecy, giving money - and how they all need to be done in love. Without love, instead of those beautiful helps to the church, what you have is resounding gongs, clanging cymbals, and gifted people who are nothing and gain nothing. That doesn’t sound like much of a worship service, or a church!

So, Paul challenges us, get rid of all that envy, boastfulness, and pride. Stop dishonoring others and promoting yourselves. Don’t get mad; in fact, don’t even think about or dwell on the things others do that frustrate you. 

Here’s a more excellent way, as Paul puts it: Love. Because then you’ll be patient and kind; you’ll protect other people instead of put them down. You’ll trust each other and God, you’ll have hope, and that hope will allow you to keep on in your love. Because love never fails.

That’s the Greg version - a little ragged, maybe, and not word for word or verse for verse, but it’s how I understand the first seven verses.

That’s why, of the three great gifts that will never pass away, love is the greatest. Faith can ebb and flow, hope can flicker or burn bright, but love never fails. And love - especially the capital L love that is God - will always pull us back to faith and hope. 

Love is the thing we do that makes us most like God. It’s at the core of what it means to be made in his image. I think that’s why it’s the greatest gift. And, unlike many others, he gave his greatest gift to everyone.

diversity

Observation suggests that humans don’t value diversity. We like sameness. Oh, we argue for diversity, but tend to buy our homes and send our kids to school in areas that make us comfortable with their familiarity. Even minorities often suggest special dorms or schools for their race, and will form companies and promote business networks made up only of people like them.

 We buy land and work hard to eliminate bio-diversity; our goal is a mono-culture (one species of grass only) and we’re ruthless in killing everything else. Oh, we might add a few trees and bushes, but only where we decide they should be, in orderly, eye-pleasing arrangements. And not too many. 

That’s also, sometimes, the way we do church, but I don’t think it’s God’s way.

1 Corinthians 12:24-26 says: “But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.”

This is a passage about spiritual gifts, addressing the propensity of the Corinthian church and Christians today to think some church members are special because of the gifts God chose to give them. We like preachers and teachers and prophets and givers; we think hosts and prayer warriors and quiet servers are more ordinary. 

But that’s not right. In God’s kingdom there are no in-important people, and in God’s church there are no ordinary gifts. Everything is needed and valued. Diversity is to be prized.

When I preach, I sometimes use the example of tulip beds and meadows, because in my originally Dutch town we love our tulip beds. We like them uniform, with flowers of the same height and in complimentary colors. These beds take a huge amount of care; left to themselves they’d be a mess and, eventually, completely overtaken by other plants.

God made meadows. Meadows have lots of different plants, and tons of bugs and dozens of animals and birds. Living together, each contributes and each takes what it needs. And meadows flourish with no outside intervention.

We may love tulip beds, but God made meadows. There’s a lesson there for the ch

blessed by forgiveness

I don’t think there are many out-and-out sinners, by which I mean people who want to do bad and be bad. I think most people, Christians or not, honestly want to be good people. We want to be liked by others, we want to be a positive force in the world.

But our reality is that we can’t – none of us, not the most pious Christian, nor the most earnest unbeliever. We struggle with our sins, even those of us who are saved. But those of us who are saved have one huge blessing: we don’t have to live with the guilt.

Psalm 32 is one of my favorites. Verses 3-4 capture so well what it means to live with guilt:

“When I kept silent,
my bones wasted away
through my groaning all day long.
For day and night
your hand was heavy on me;
my strength was sapped
as in the heat of summer.”

That’s how we all live, saint and sinner alike. But we who know Jesus can relate to more in this Psalm. There’s something we can do about it. Here’s verse 5:

"Then I acknowledged my sin to you
and did not cover up my iniquity.
I said, ‘I will confess
my transgressions to the Lord.’And you forgave
the guilt of my sin.”

Forgiveness, and no more guilt! That’s exactly why the Psalmist starts the Psalm this way:

“Blessed is the one
whose transgressions are forgiven,
whose sins are covered.
Blessed is the one
whose sin the Lord does not count against them
and in whose spirit is no deceit.”

And ends it this way:
“Rejoice in the Lord and be glad, you righteous;
sing, all you who are upright in heart!”

Because that’s what I want to do every time I feel that weight of guilt lifting. It’s one of the most amazing things in the world.

glory of God

Paul had a simple test for things. At the end of 1 Corinthians 10, he wrote this: “So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.”

The topic was food. In chapter 10 he remembered the time God’s people ate spiritual food (manna, I think) in the desert, but then moved on to revelries and feasting when they had their own land. He pointed out the current practice of the Corinthian church where some hogged all the food and even got drunk at church during the Communion meal. And earlier in this letter he talked about all foods being OK unless they caused a brother to stumble.

At the end of it all, this simple rule: have as your motive God’s glory.

Paul threw a little phrase into that sentence to tell me this rule is for all of life: he said, “or whatever you do.” That means that this one rule could be enough for all of life. It becomes an answer to a plethora of questions.

What to do about a relationship? How should I handle my finances? Should I watch that movie or read that book? Exercise or lounge on the couch? Seconds or no? For all of life, the answer is, “What glorifies God?”

That was Paul’s entire life, spreading the gospel for the glory of God. Surely I can make my choices with the same goal.

Discipline

Looking at 1 Corinthians 9 today, I’m realizing that sometimes it’s important to ignore the section headings in my Bible and just read it as Paul wrote it. In this chapter, my Bible has four separate sections that combine to make a powerful point.

The sections break down like this: the first 11 verses talk about how he should have a right to expect material support like all the others. Then, starting in verse 12, he explains why he didn’t demand those things, verse 19 begins a discussion of how he made himself a slave to everyone, and then the last section is the famous passage about running the race.

As I picked this chapter apart, I noticed Paul paired three things he didn’t do with three things he chose to do, and then gave three reasons for them.

He didn’t claim his rights for support, but instead put up with anything. The reason? So as not to hinder the Gospel of Christ (verse 12).

He didn’t take advantage of his freedom, but instead made himself a slave to everyone. The reason this time? To win as many as possible to Christ (verse 19).

He didn’t run aimlessly, but instead made his body a slave to his calling. The reason for this? So that he himself wouldn’t be disqualified for the ultimate prize of salvation (verses 26-27).

Taken all together, this is a chapter about rigorous discipline focused on kingdom work. Paul gave up his rights and his freedoms and trained himself ruthlessly to be able to fulfill God’s call on his life. What mattered to him was saving souls, his own and others.

It shames me a bit to see this constant discipline and unfailing purpose. Too many of my thoughts are self-centered; I like my rights and freedoms, and I want my life to be easy. But I also want to bring others to Christ, to see his kingdom come.

I can’t have both. Paul didn’t expect to; he made good choices, and look at his legacy.

knowledge

One thing I’ve always liked about my denomination is that we value knowledge. We Calvinists are known for a cerebral faith, and as a person who is uncomfortable with emotion I’ve always found some security in that. I’m a guy who thinks stepping back from your feelings and acting based on facts is the best way.

In this, as so many other things, I’m not always support by scripture. Here’s how Paul puts it in 1 Corinthians 8:1-2: “We know that ‘We all possess knowledge.’ But knowledge puffs up while love builds up. Those who think they know something do not yet know as they ought to know.”

People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care. I’m not sure who said that, but there’s a lot of truth in it, and it’s central to Paul’s point. Those emotional Christians who make me uncomfortable make a lot of other people feel better. It takes an emotional connection to build people up.

Instead of taking pride in what I know, I need to remember that I don’t know all that much, and some of what I think I know is wrong. But Christ-like love is never wrong, and loving motives are a better guide to navigating life that all the head-smarts in the world.

only obedience

I remember as a boy in school trying to figure out what a vision was. There was a church in our community that taught that until you saw a vision, you weren’t really saved. I wondered if I’d ever seen one.

That’s just one example of the ways we like to qualify ourselves or others in the church. We have requirements for church life, markers of success. These can be good. In my church, when you come to a believing faith you make a public Profession of Faith - it’s a big deal, and a significant step in faith formation. But there was a time when a lot of kids did it just because they were graduating from high school and it was time.

Paul puts these rituals in their proper place in 1 Corinthians 7:19: “Circumcision is nothing and uncircumcision is nothing. Keeping God’s commands is what counts.”

Circumcision, of course, was the marker of a proper, God-following Jew, and a lot of Jews still thought newly-believing Gentiles ought to be circumcised. Paul is reminding them that in the new covenant that’s a ritual that has lost its meaning. In fact, as a general rule, rituals are suspect in the New Testament church.

What matters is lives lived out for Jesus. What matters is a dedication to knowing and following the commands of God. A life of faithful obedience is the new marker of a faithful person.

It’s worth thinking about as I want to judge others by their clothes or participation in worship.”Keeping God’s commands is what counts.”

not mine

Sometimes Paul reminds me of just how radical my faith should be. Here’s an example, from two bookend verses in a passage talking about sexual and other sins (1 Corinthians 6:12 and 20): “‘I have the right to do anything,’ you say—but not everything is beneficial.’I have the right to do anything’—but I will not be mastered by anything. . . . You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.”

Isn’t it amazing that a couple thousand years ago Paul responded to one of the most prevalent ideas in our culture today? “I have the right to do anything.” I can view porn, blast my music, espouse hateful viewpoints online. I can take my message to the streets or riot to deny someone else a voice. I can party, gamble, sleep around, cohabitate. I can define my own gender, and redefine it every day if I want. You have to tolerate it all, because I have the right to do anything.

Christians don’t have the right to do anything. Non-Christians shouldn’t either, but they don’t acknowledge the same Lord that we do. Our Lord expects us to do what is beneficial and not to be mastered by anything other than our love for him. He reminds us of what he paid to save us. He demands that our choices honor him.

Believing this truth and living it out looks really weird to the world - just look at the vilification of Mike Pence. But it’s what Jesus calls us to. It’s the kind of radical, revolutionary behavior that could really change the nation.

judging

There’s something we Christians get wrong too often: we judge those outside the church but often give ourselves a pass.

Paul describes the way it’s supposed to go in 1 Corinthians 5:9-11: “I wrote to you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral people— not at all meaning the people of this world who are immoral, or the greedy and swindlers, or idolaters. In that case you would have to leave this world. But now I am writing to you that you must not associate with anyone who claims to be a brother or sister but is sexually immoral or greedy, an idolater or slanderer, a drunkard or swindler. Do not even eat with such people.”

Instead of lectures on sin or warnings about hell or social punishments like avoidance, Paul says my interaction with sinning unbelievers can be pretty normal. I shouldn’t try to avoid them, he says, or I wouldn’t even be able to go about my daily life. My first desire for those people should be to make my faith look good, to attract them to Jesus. I won’t do that by sermonizing.

On the other hand, when my Christian brothers and sisters sin, Paul says to confront them and if necessary ostracize them. So often my fellow church members continue to flirt with drunkenness and shady business dealings. We can gossip to the point of character assassination. We don’t observe the Sabbath, we sometimes have affairs, we occasionally break the law. And the rest of us often don’t say a thing.

I’m not comfortable yet with the idea of challenging my Christian friends with their sin - it seems very close to being judgmental and could be disruptive. I have to think about that more. But what I can do today is stop judging the pagans. I can instead try to be really likeable to them, to attract them to me and hopefully then to Jesus.

Reverend

We’re a long way from the days when the Domini (as pastors used to be called by my Dutch-American forebears) was one of the most honored men in the community. He was treated with respect, sought out for advice, and listened to carefully.

Now we’re as likely to view preachers with some skepticism. After all, they’ve never had to live in the real world. They’ve never had to hit performance metrics or compete for customers. They don’t know what it’s like to go to work every morning with a bunch of unbelievers.

I think we’re often too hard on our pastors. I think Paul was onto something when he said this to the Corinthians about himself and Apollos, two bringers of the Gospel message that the Corinthians saw as competitors (1 Corinthians 4:1): “This, then, is how you ought to regard us: as servants of Christ and as those entrusted with the mysteries God has revealed.”

No matter what judgments we might want to make about those called to pastorship, these two things are true. If truly called, then they are God’s servants, doing their best with their gifts and circumstances to obey him and serve his people.

Also, they are entrusted with God’s mysteries as revealed in scripture.They spent years learning from other gifted, Spirit-filled men. They themselves have spent countless hours reading, studying, and in prayer. God uses them to communicate his truths to us; he gifts them with the understanding that their flocks need.

It doesn’t really matter if they’re smart about money or fashion. Leadership and administrative skills are a plus, but not required. Their primary role is to help us see and understand God.

That’s why I like the old term, “Reverend.” It seems to me to convey the proper respect for these men, and now women, who have given so much time to understanding God, and helping us to as well.

foundations

“You can’t build your life on a lie.” I heard a line employee tell his sidekick that a few weeks ago. I’m not sure, because that’s all I heard, but based on other things I know I think the second guy had a wife in another state and a new girlfriend here. If that’s the case, he got some good advice; things were bound to fall apart eventually when the truth came out.

That got me thinking about all the things we trust enough to build our lives on. Really, it’s the things we have faith in. I know a man who is building on the foundation of his dad’s money - that’s what will solve his problems one day. Others build around their own pleasure, using lustful and riotous living to ease their pain.

Paul recognized all these as lies. He built his life and faith, and every church he planted, on the true foundation of Jesus. And he admonished any church leader who didn’t do the same thing.

Look at 1 Corinthians 3:10-12: “By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as a wise builder, and someone else is building on it. But each one should build with care. For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. If anyone builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, their work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person’s work.”

Every life is a demonstration of faith in something, but the true foundation of life as it’s meant to be was laid by Jesus. Building on him is building something rock solid. Nothing else will last.

fools

Here’s an observation from our last 18 months of politics: there are a lot of very earnest people who want to do good and get things right, but have widely different ideas. It seems like we as a people can fight about anything. Yet one thing that seems to cross every political and ideological boundary is the fact that non-Christians collectively don’t understand Christians.

The more benign response is simple head-shaking, but a lot of folks think we’re out-and-out nuts.  A notable recent example is a relatively mainstream broadcaster declaring that anyone who claims they can hear Jesus is mentally ill. Too many in public life jumped on that bandwagon.

It kind of surprised me, but it wouldn’t have surprised Paul. Paul told us the truth about this centuries ago in his first letter to the Corinthians, specifically in chapter 2:12-14: “What we have received is not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, so that we may understand what God has freely given us. This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom but in words taught by the Spirit, explaining spiritual realities with Spirit-taught words. The person without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God but considers them foolishness, and cannot understand them because they are discerned only through the Spirit.”

This basic truth - that non-Christians will never get it when it come to spiritual stuff - reminds me of a couple of things. The first is, I won’t ever convince them on social media or any other public forum no matter how witty or mocking or snarky my brilliant posts might seem to the rest of my tribe. Without the Spirit, those people aren’t equipped at the most basic level to even understand what I’m saying, assuming I’m speaking spiritual truth. (And if I really am, it shouldn’t ever be snarky or mocking.)

The second is that the most responsible civic activism I can engage in on any issue, be it gender fluidity, marriage, immigration, taxes, health care, gun control or governmental ethics, is to live out my calling to spread the Gospel. Good policy calls for people who understand Godly wisdom, and that only comes with the Holy Spirit. It’s impossible to help this country with my logic and passion and energy until the ones I’m trying to persuade are able to understand. The person without the Spirit, as Paul says, will consider any Godly answer to be foolishness.

Another example of Jesus’ wisdom is that the last thing he told us to do - go and make disciples - is also the very thing that most directly address the world’s problems.

following

It can be really hard to separate our religion from our religious leaders. I think that may be in part because it’s so hard to see Jesus, so we look to men and women who claim to represent him.

Today,though, I read the cautionary story in 1 Corinthians 1, captured succinctly in verses 11-13: “My brothers and sisters, some from Chloe’s household have informed me that there are quarrels among you. What I mean is this: One of you says, ‘I follow Paul’; another, ‘I follow Apollos’; another, ‘I follow Cephas’; still another, ‘I follow Christ.’ Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Were you baptized in the name of Paul?”

You’ve heard it as often as I have: instead of saying, “the Bible says this,” or “Jesus said,” people talk of what their favorite earthly preacher or teacher puts out. “John Piper says women shouldn’t preach.” “Franklin Graham says Trump is a faithful Christian.” “Rick Bell says everyone will go to heaven.”

I have a family member, a cousin, who quotes “Pastor Dave” as the authority on all matters. Others I know use Beth Moore or Ravi Zacharias or lean on certain podcasts.

But there’s a thing I just don’t see much anymore. I don’t encounter men or women who support their positions from their own Bible reading. I don’t run into people who can base a conversation on the issues on what scripture reveals about God’s heart. I hear a lot of things like, “Well, Jerry Falwell Jr. says we should have more guns on campus.” I’ve never heard anyone discuss the implications of both the shooter and victim being image-bearers of God, and what path one might have taken to get to a place where they bought Satan’s lies. It seems to me the second question is a critically important one to solving this particular problem.

Qualified, well-trained men and women are a gift from God to help us understand, but God also gives each one of us the Spirit so we can read scripture and know his will on our own. Too often, it seems to me, we instead find the preacher who’s saying what our itching ears want to hear, and jump on that bandwagon.

But, as Paul points out, none of those people were willing to go to the cross for us, or capable of accomplishing our salvation if they did. Their words are helpful only if they help us understand and follow Jesus.