scattered

I don’t think Jesus ever looked at life and death the way we do. He understands our viewpoint, but it was never his.

Jesus started the church with his own death, and kicked it as a fledgling from its Jerusalem nest with death of one of the saints. Acts 7:59-8:1 tells us: 

“While they were stoning him, Stephen prayed, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.’ Then he fell on his knees and cried out, ‘Lord, do not hold this sin against them.’ When he had said this, he fell asleep.

“And Saul approved of their killing him.

“On that day a great persecution broke out against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout Judea and Samaria.”

We fear death perhaps more than anything else. We fight to prolong our lives; we see the death of others as a grim tragedy. And it is, but only for those who die without Jesus. Someone once said that, for the Christian, death is a punctuation mark but it isn’t a period. It’s a comma. It’s not the end, it’s a pause before continuing on.

Jesus conquered death, he tamed it, so that for those of us who know Jesus, death is a transition to something much better. And throughout the ages he has used the deaths of his people as another way to further the work of his kingdom. 

That’s another wonderful benefit of our salvation: our greatest enemy now serves Jesus just like we do, and it has no power to hurt us. Hallelujah! What a Savior!

To my readers,

I want to let you know that I'm taking a break from writing this blog. This summer I intend to focus on evaluating where and how I can best engage in ministry; maybe this blog will continue to be part of that and I'll start it again in the fall. Possibly some other opportunities will seem more appropriate.

Over the period that I've shared these thoughts a lot has changed in my life, in the church, and in the blogspace. The factors that led me to start have either changed or been addressed, and many other talented writers have come online with contributions at least as good as mine. 

For that small handful of you who have been with me from the beginning, well over a thousand posts ago, thanks for your commitment. For all of you who've taken some time to read (the most precious gift a writer can receive), you also have my appreciation. I never took your readership for granted. 

disgrace

It was a really bad couple of days. Jealous religious leaders had the apostles arrested and put in jail. When an angel sprung them, they went back to the temple, and then the furious leaders had them flogged. 

What do you do after a bad day? Eat a pint of Rocky Road? Pour a drink? Go shopping? Head for the gym? 

Here’s what the apostles did, in Acts 5:41: “The apostles left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name.”

Jailed and beaten, and they rejoice! And what a strange reason: they had been found worthy of not some great honor, but of suffering disgrace.

Here’s what the apostles knew that I forget: Jesus was disgraced and persecuted by people who opposed what he wanted to do in this world. It’s no honor when people who disdain our Lord want to applaud us. In fact, that’s a sign we’re in dangerous territory. 

Why, then, do we want so much to look like those people? Why do we dress like them and go to the same places and consume the same pop culture and laugh at the same jokes? Why do we want so badly to fit in with them?

Because standing out means we’ll be picked on. Persecuted. Disgraced. Exactly what the apostles rejoiced about.

selling land

One of the hard things about being part of a church, or a follower of Jesus, is understanding that it isn’t what we do that matters so much, but how and why we do it.

One choice the early church in Jerusalem made was to live in such close community that they shared everything, even their personal possessions - we read in Acts 4 that they had everything in common. That practice led to this series of events, reading from Acts 4:36-5:2: 

“Joseph, a Levite from Cyprus, whom the apostles called Barnabas (which means “son of encouragement”), sold a field he owned and brought the money and put it at the apostles’ feet.”

“Now a man named Ananias, together with his wife Sapphira, also sold a piece of property. With his wife’s full knowledge he kept back part of the money for himself, but brought the rest and put it at the apostles’ feet.”

Here’s the problem: Ananias and Sapphira, wanting to look as good as Joseph, claimed to donate the whole amount from their land sale. They lied. They didn’t have to; no one would have questioned their right to hold back some money. They wanted to because they wanted the acclaim. And if you read further, you see that God struck them both dead.

Two instances of selling land, two donations, but only one was obedient. It wasn’t what they did, it was how and why.

We need to remember that when we do our own version of selling land, that sacrificial thing that the church calls us to do. Maybe it’s pledging, maybe it’s working, maybe it’s a prayer vigil. Whatever it is, it doesn’t count as obedience unless we do it in the right way and for the right reasons. 

Unlike Ananias, we might be able to fool our fellow church members. But God will know.

teaching the people

It strikes me that the early church continued in a lot the same pattern that Jesus saw in his ministry.

This is what it says in Acts 4:1-4: “The priests and the captain of the temple guard and the Sadducees came up to Peter and John while they were speaking to the people. They were greatly disturbed because the apostles were teaching the people, proclaiming in Jesus the resurrection of the dead. They seized Peter and John and, because it was evening, they put them in jail until the next day. But many who heard the message believed; so the number of men who believed grew to about five thousand.”

Right before this, Peter and John healed a crippled man. That made people ask questions, and they took the opportunity to talk about Jesus. And people responded.

Sounds a lot like Jesus, doesn’t it? Jesus helped people, which made more people gather. Then he talked, and people believed. The religious leaders would get angry and plot against Jesus.

I have a couple of thoughts here. First, the church is at it’s best, and most effective, when it looks most like Jesus. He was our model for how his work should be done on earth, and we are his workmen saved and recruited to continue what he started - teaching the people.

Second, when we look like Jesus we will scare whoever is currently in power. After all, they like things just the way they are; right now, everything is going to their advantage. They aren’t looking for change; in fact, change is a threat. The status quo is familiar and comfortable. But Jesus is countercultural and revolutionary. He and his followers always bring change.

This is a cautionary tale for all of us. If we’re in church leadership, we have to be willing to move past what feels good to us to embrace the changes that come as Jesus’ kingdom moves forward; certainly we never want to find ourselves in the position of opposing those changes. If we not leaders, we should still be open to the ways the Gospel message is spreading to people not like us, and how that might result in church being different than it used to be.

At the end of the day, the people who benefit from the system will try to perpetuate it, and the ones who don’t will try to change it. At least that’s the way the world works. Jesus calls us to see beyond that, and to follow his lead regardless of benefit to ourselves.

times of refreshing

Relationships are hard. Even our closest ones have their ups and downs, and then we go through what I call the post-disagreement hangover, where both of you nurse your hurt feelings and tread carefully around the other for a couple hours or maybe a day. Significant relational breaches may require several days, or even a lifetime of atonement, to rebuild trust.

Thank God - literally - that the most precious relationship we have isn’t like that. Despite our hostility toward God and refusal to do what he wants, all we have to do is want the relationship. 

In Acts 3, Peter explains to a group of people that the man they persecuted and crucified was God’s son. And then he told them this, in verses17-20: “‘Now, fellow Israelites, I know that you acted in ignorance, as did your leaders. But this is how God fulfilled what he had foretold through all the prophets, saying that his Messiah would suffer. Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord, and that he may send the Messiah, who has been appointed for you—even Jesus.’”

Isn’t it amazing that even after the murder of his son, all God wanted was for the people to be sorry for their sins? That the only thing he required was that they repent and turn back to him? Do that, Peter says, and you sins will be wiped out - gone, as if they’d never happened. You’ll be free of the guilt, with no need to try to work through the paybacks before you can enjoy each other’s company again.

More than that, Peter says God wants to do something else for us. He wants to recharge our batteries; God will send times of refreshing. God knows our lives intimately, and he knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows that even the good things in life can take their toll. We spend ourselves on our jobs and our church work and our families, and then on top of it life hits us with stuff we just have to gut through. When we use ourselves up, God will be there to pour back into us everything we poured out for other people. 

Freedom from guilt and a never-ending source of rest and energy to do good. That’s a lot from a relationship, but Peter noted a third thing. There’s this little detail of Jesus, the Messiah, Lord of our life now and the Redeemer who paid for it all and who will return for us all.

It hardly seems possible, does it. For such a little bit from us - say we’re sorry and mean in - God wipes out all our sin and guilt and refreshes us as fast as life takes it out of us.That’s the earthly reality of living as saved followers of Jesus.

even better

At work we use a simple measurement of success: customer delight. Satisfaction is what happens when we get exactly what we expected. Delight is an emotion we feel when we get something even better. 

This morning, reading in Acts 3:1-6, I read something that to me communicated the different perfectly: 

“One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer—at three in the afternoon. Now a man who was lame from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts. When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for money. Peter looked straight at him, as did John. Then Peter said, ‘Look at us!’ So the man gave them his attention, expecting to get something from them.

“Then Peter said, ‘Silver or gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.’

“Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man’s feet and ankles became strong. He jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking and jumping, and praising God.”

Here’s a crippled man whose daily existence was pretty much the same: either at the temple or some other crowded place, he begged. He sat there all day long, pleading for a few pennies here and maybe some dimes there. When Peter and John walked by, that’s exactly what expected. He would have been satisfied with a few coins.

But he got something even better. For the first time in his life, he could walk! Not only that, he could jump, and he did. He followed them into the temple leaping and praising God.

It reminds me that God wants to do more than just satisfy us; he wants us to delight in him. We have things we want in life, usually having to do with money and stuff, but what he gives us is even better. He showers us with truly good things so that, like the crippled man, we’re so amazed and pleased that we cavort like young horses and sing like canaries.

At least, that’s what we ought to be doing. If we’re not, we’re probably not seeing God at work.

pot luck

One of the challenges of a career in business is eating well. There are often snacks in meetings and birthday treats in the break room. A lot of business is conducted over lunch, and spending time on the road means eating in restaurants. For a guy my age whose metabolism can only handle so many calories, it’s a challenge.

Church isn’t always a lot better. Anything special at a service is celebrated with cookies, bars or a pot luck. 

I used to resent that. Between work and church, losing weight or keeping it off sometimes seems impossible - you can out-eat even the best workout. But this, morning, reading about the early church in Acts 2, I was struck by what it says in verse 42: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.”

Isn’t it interesting that fellowship and sharing meals is noted alongside learning from the apostles and prayer as focuses of that first congregation? Could it be that when we share the wonderful blessing of good food, we share something more? The time we put into preparing and conversing, when we do it cheerfully and with loving hearts, in some way knits our churches together, it seems.

One of our previous pastors used to say, “Food is fellowship.” I think he was onto something. Maybe our pot lucks are as important to the health of the church as other disciplines.

repent and be baptized

The first evangelism event in history was spontaneous, and it didn’t end up the way you might have expected. With the Holy Spirit fresh on them at Pentecost, the disciples proclaimed the great good news of Jesus, and that God had revealed this crucified man to be the Messiah they’d waited for. Here’s what happened next, in Acts 2:37-38:

“When the people heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and the other apostles, ‘Brothers, what shall we do?’

“Peter replied, ‘Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.’”

I’m sure that’s not what the people expected. I’m sure they thought they’d have to atone somehow, or do some arduous thing to demonstrate their remorse and prove their value. If they were at all like us, they wanted an assignment. We would want taskers, a list we could work through with an end in sight. Make it easy, like Saturday’s chore list, or hard, like getting through college. Just tell us what the requirement is so we can knuckle down and grind our way through it.

But although we like measurable requirements we can check off, like 10% of your earnings as tithe or 20 minutes of devotions every day, that’s not how salvation works. When the crowds asked Peter what to do, he simply said, “Repent and be baptized.”

Repenting is hard, because it’s a heart attitude and not an action. It takes constant attention to be sure we’re really remorseful for the bad things we do. And baptism is a statement of trust, that someone else will take care of this for us. This, like so many things having to do with God, is simple to understand and dismaying to contemplate. For the broken-hearted and beaten-down, this simplicity is welcome good news. For those of us who are confident in our performance thus far, the dismay comes in the change we’ll have to make inside.

Confronted with the truth about Jesus, as those people were, we end up asking the same thing: what should we do? If we ask, we’re going to get the same answer the got, Peter’s simple-yet-nearly-impossible two-step plan. But it’s our only hope.