PANDEMIC, COPING WITH IT
This is not the time or place to rehearse the life-changing and, in some cases, devastating effects COVID-19 has been having on people’s lives near and far—in our families, churches, communities, workplaces, and neighbors around the nation and world. But how do Christians cope with this pandemic? Here is some food for thought.
This is not the time or place to rehearse the life-changing and, in some cases, devastating effects COVID-19 has been having on people’s lives near and far—in our families, churches, communities, workplaces, and neighbors around the nation and world. But how do Christians cope with this pandemic? Here is some food for thought.
A Time to Repent
The Christian life is one of daily repentance. The baptized are called to die with Christ in order to be raised with him to new life. This is especially true in the season of Lent. When we hear of and see great numbers of people suffering and dying around us, the primary response is grief. Grief is our form of death at this time. It is deep contrition over the inescapable and universal reality that, as heirs of Adam, we are dust and to dust we shall return. Pandemics increase exponentially our awareness of this tragic state of affairs. Repentance calls us not to avoid this reality, but make room for grieving it. This is not fatalism which panics, despairs, and gives up at the sight of death. Christians grieve, but not without hope. Lent points us to Easter, death to resurrection. As heirs of God’s promises of new life in Christ, the last Adam, we are called even in the worst times to hope in God’s deliverance from the power of sin and death. This hope against all hope is a bold confidence in God’s promises, and it is most needed at a time when tragic news fills the air and tragedy itself threatens to quench our spirits. In these painful times, set time aside for confession and absolution, for contrition and forgiveness, for sorrow in view of hope.
A Time for Vigilance
The Christian life is not an easy one. It is a perilous journey in the desert, in the wilderness, where the devil attacks and tempts God’s children. Times of crisis especially make us aware of our vulnerabilities to such assaults. So we must be vigilant, watchful. Temptations can make the fatalist, who despairs over tragedy, doubt God’s promises of protection, provision, and life. But the enemy can just as easily tempt the perfectionist, who is overly confident in his own health, resources, and power, to ignore or minimize the present trial. Bold confidence in God’s promises is about faith in Christ and his words of life. It is not the same as a triumphalistic view of things, which in the name of self-confidence makes light of or flirts with danger. In these times of temptation, however, Christians are also reminded that the wilderness is the place of God’s presence, the place of testing where he refines us to be resilient and stand firm in his promises when times are tough. We are in the desert, but not alone. God’s Spirit accompanies and leads us. This is the time to be neither a spiritual Debbie-Downer nor a spiritual Super-Man. It is a time for seeing God alone as our oasis in the desert, to grow in our dependence on his mercies through prayer and the Word. In these times of temptation and testing, set time aside to call upon the Spirit in prayer for protection from all assaults of the devil and for guidance and strength in the Word.
A Time for Sacrifice
The Christian life is one of conformity to Christ in his sacrifice, in his self-giving to others even unto death. Times of suffering put into question the popular notion that being a Christian is about being happy and prosperous. It is really about joyfully sacrificing for others. In unprecedented times, sacrifice may take different forms. Some serve ailing patients in the front lines, at times at the risk of their own personal health. Many are learning that, in times of pandemics, sacrifice, oddly enough, can also mean staying home and keeping a safe distance from neighbors so as not to put them in harm’s way. This is not the time to claim some individualistic version of freedom without concern for others, but rather a time to learn anew that Christian freedom is ultimately freedom for the sake of others. In times of crisis, we die to self in order to make room for the neediest neighbors in our midst. We learn to put on the form of the servant, and put ahead the interests of others before ours. But let us also remember that pandemics make us all vulnerable, not only physically, but also emotionally and spirituality. For this reason, it is honest to think of ourselves as a communion of both givers and receivers of divine generosity. Through our unity in Christ, we are in communion with one another and thus share each other’s burdens and joys. What joys can you share with others at this time? Perhaps it is the joy of having meals together as a family. Perhaps it is the joy of making meals available to an elderly member of the congregation. What burdens can others help you go through nowadays? Perhaps a phone call to check in on you, to help you deal with the anxiety of family members traveling or not yet reunited. Or maybe a word of encouragement from people who know how hard you are working to continue to care for people in new ways, even if mostly online. In times of isolation, finding ways of sharing life together with patience and grace is more important than ever.
A Time for Hospitality
The Christian life is one of welcoming strangers into our lives, even when the welcome is not physically possible. Pandemics make us painfully aware of large numbers of suffering neighbors we never heard about. Hearing of many lives lost in places that seem so far away, like China and Italy, we suddenly realize how much we share with these strangers. At times like these, we put a human face on strangers, especially those who are most vulnerable to the virus. We think of the elderly, the homeless, refugees and asylum seekers, the poor, and now also record numbers of underemployed and unemployed neighbors. What can the church do to practice and embody hospitality toward strangers at this time? Some are ordering in from restaurants, giving baristas additional tips, sending donations to relief and humanitarian agencies. In times of financial distress and economic uncertainty and fear, the default mode is to play it safe and focus on those closest to us. This makes sense and is prudent, and yet the church is also called to exercise a hospitable disposition toward those who are not as close to us, but still require our prayers and love. In these inhospitable times, let us not give up on extending our love for our closest neighbors beyond the confines of the familiar.
A Time for Devotion
The Christian life is one of devotion to God in good and bad times. We were created to embody devotion to our Creator in the rhythm of repose and movement, of rest and labor. There are gardens to labor in, to tend to and care for, as stewards of God’s gifts. God continues to provide for his world through many laborers who are doing their best to care for lives on earth. People are busy figuring out the next step. In the midst of daily updates, difficult news, and uncertainty about the future, our minds are also filled with fear and anxiety. They are busy with thoughts that get in the way of receiving from God. Living in isolation might not be enough to give us much needed rest—literal rest to keep us healthy, to take care of our minds and bodies; but also rest to go to the mountain and spend time with God in prayer, praise, and thanksgiving. The garden is filled with thorns and thistles. We need to retreat to the mountain, not to let the anxieties of the moment rob us of our time with the Father. Retreat not to leave the world, but to be fed with the Word in order to engage the world rightly. Crises suck the life and joy out of people. We lose the ability to play, to step back and rejoice in God’s gifts. In restless times, reclaim the playground of God’s creation: play your guitar, enjoy a beverage, do some gardening, catch up with friends on the phone. When it seems like the world is ending, take time to pray, get some extra sleep, and sing, play, or listen to an old favorite tune. These are acts of defiant hope against all hope, acts of bold faith in the God of Jesus Christ, who’s got the whole wide world in his hands.
https://concordiatheology.org/2020/03/pandemic-coping-with-it/
ABOUT AUTHOR
Leopoldo Sanchez
Leopoldo (Leo) A. Sánchez M. teaches systematic theology at Concordia Seminary, where he also holds The Werner R.H. Krause and Elizabeth Ringger Krause Chair for Hispanic Ministries and serves as Director of the Center for Hispanic Studies. Among his research interests, Leo writes and teaches in the areas of pneumatology (Holy Spirit), Spirit Christology, sanctification, Trinitarian theology, and issues related to U.S. Hispanic/Latino theology and missions (such as immigration and other societal issues affecting Latino/a communities) and contemporary Roman Catholic theology.
“Escape from Circumstances”: Dickinson in Quarantine
Escape from Circumstances – / And a Name” was Emily Dickinson’s base state
Escape from Circumstances – / And a Name” was Emily Dickinson’s base state. She lived in a room, in a home, with her family. She self-sequestered for over 50 years.
A kind of purgatory between life in the whole world and being without the world, this sequestration from hubbub is now facing millions, maybe billions, because we might get sick, sick because of life together.
Millions, perhaps billions, are already sick of life, living life joined to the other millions, perhaps billions, who scream daily on the Interweb. These mornings in Lent that I spend in silence typing these things are also self-sequestration, but a cheat.
Unlike Emily, I know that, as I live them, I need to leave and will. I want to leave. Like I leave a comfy bed every morning to crank at level 28 for 90 minutes to vitiate my mildly morbid obesity. And take my 4 pills. And think, then write these things.
There is a bed, for some, of intermittent sequestration to “put away / Life’s Opportunity.” Like yoga or meditating or prayer or, well, lying in bed. Jesus was in the wilderness for 40 days. Thoreau only spent part of each week in Walden. He emerged to be part of the world he longed to escape.
Both Thoreau and Dickinson had the luxury of self-sequestration because they had money, made by others, to absent themselves from the hubbub. Now millions, maybe billions, may be forced to detach from necessities for a higher necessity — staying alive.
The Things that Death will
buy
Are Room –
Emily was in a permanent state of detachment between life on earth and life after death. She lived it. In Lent, if you follow the schedule of liturgical seasons, this is our time of living in the contemplation of not living.
It is a Christian’s Walden to be in Lent. We visit Emily’s isolation. We hopefully hit the OFF button just a bit. But then, like a sentence, we re-emerge, like a mammal in spring, to each day’s mishegas.
Even when things get put away, “the Rates – lie here” — these wages of life are not just needed, they validate. Emily laughed at that, or perhaps envied it, but Thoreau, and Jesus, returned to it. As do I.
This week I signed contracts to help in the making of two of the most public, most rewarding things I could do as an architect. I may be able to pay down my credit line and card, and not think about the intermittent terror of payroll every two weeks for a season. Or not.
The annual self-sequestration of Lent is, in fact, a luxury. We choose to go without some things for a time. Coronavirus is not a choice. Neither is death a choice, for most of us, but it is our life’s wage. And we hope, in this transaction, to give our life to something greater, though we do not know.
Emily’s sequestration was a gift to me. It is a gift every morning. Those contracts I signed could also offer a wage, but compel a promissory gift from me to those who I will never know.
But Emily and Jesus knew it was all a gift. I know because they say so to me, every day. I wish I heard them clearer, but I am trying.
Image credits: Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA
https://mbird.com/2020/03/escape-from-circumstances-dickinson-in-quarantine/
Let's Get Ready to Watch the Service at Home (Instructions)
Set up your Tv so you can watch from home
On Sunday we are going to premier our worship service on the web page, www.gracelutheranpsl.com at 9AM
The Worship service will also be available on YouTube,
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-75ObCQ87gyBbjzTnLrjnQ
Youtube is great because it is so versatile. Youtube videos will play on most internet-connected devices.
So if you have
a computer with the internet, you're good.
a smartphone. you're good.
a smart TV, you’re good.
a smart TV box, like a Roku or Apple TV, you’re good.
Watching the worship service on a TV will be the best experience.
But if you can’t get it to work. Still watch on your computer or phone
Watch the video below to find out how you can “cast” the YouTube video from your phone or computer to your TV (this is what Pastor does in the Bible studies to put the Bible and videos on the screens).
Remember to download the youtube App on your Phone or be using “Chrome” On your computer.
Also Practice Today and Tomorrow!
But what if you don’t have a smart TV or a Smart TV box?
Do you have a flat-screen tv?
If yes, does it have an HDMI plug?
See Picture >>>>>
You can purchase a Roku box
Here is the one to get, they are at Walmart in St. Lucie West right now: https://www.walmart.com/ip/Roku-Premiere-HD-4K-HDR-Streaming-Media-Player-Simple-Remote-and-Premium-HDMI-Cable/886364048
Just install the Roku Box, set it up with the instructions, and install the YouTube app on the Roku.
I know it sounds like a lot, but you can do it - I have faith in you.!
But what if I have a normal TV without the right plugs?
This is why we are putting together a DVD.
Contact the church, or come to a communion time, and we will have a DVD packet for you.
Just get the DVD going, and watch the worship service with your DVD player.
I found this video also helpful, but it is a little different
St. Patrick and COVID 19 From FLGA District
St. Patrick’s Day celebrations this year will be very different. While many will still enjoy a green (or amber) beer, there will be no parades, no rowdy gatherings at a neighborhood bar, restaurants will serve far fewer corned beef and cabbage meals to celebrating patrons.
St. Patrick and COVID 19
St. Patrick’s Day celebrations this year will be very different. While many will still enjoy a green (or amber) beer, there will be no parades, no rowdy gatherings at a neighborhood bar, restaurants will serve far fewer corned beef and cabbage meals to celebrating patrons.
The COVID 19 pandemic has changed everything.
Whether you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day or not, St. Patrick does have something to teach us as we learn to keep our social distance. St. Patrick’s evangelistic methodology may serve our time and context well.
I’ll let you google St. Patrick’s history – the story of his kidnapping, conversion and subsequent return to Ireland to share the Gospel message with the Irish barbarians who had enslaved him. It’s quite a story. What really interests me, however is how he created a Christian movement within local communities. These days especially, I wonder if God has prepared His church – us – for such a time as this.
Patrick understood that the spiritual life and ministry call were not to be lived alone. There were no large (or small) churches to which he could invite the barbarians. He did not work to convert individuals, but through his missional vocation, his way of life, he invited others to observe, live, and practice a life of discipleship with him. Through this lifestyle evangelism, the Holy Spirit converted many to Christianity.
The lesson for us today – as churches are closed for worship, children are sent home for on-line schooling, meetings are cancelled and travel is curtailed – is simple. While we may not gather in large groups, how could our church leaders resource members to have “house churches,” to gather very small groups in their homes or yards, where neighbors could observe the Christian faith in action and hear the Christian Gospel? Could it be that some or even many of these neighbors will become participants, rather than observers? How many will the Holy Spirit bring to faith and Christian confession in the context of these micro-communities or “house churches?”
This was Patrick’s method. But it wasn’t new with Patrick. The believers in the early Christian Church practiced the same (see Acts 2:42-47 and Acts 4). These believers were called “Christians” (Acts 11) because they lived a Christ-life and because they talked about Christ all the time. Something was different as they practiced hospitality and lived godly lives and as they invited their neighbors to live this life with them. Their neighbors took notice. In fact, these “Christians” were especially noticed in the darkest of times. Plague, persecution and famine gave Christians opportunity to demonstrate Jesus’ love as they served their neighbors in His name.
COVID 19 and the suggested – or enforced – precautions to “flatten the curve” offer us, as the church, the opportunity to be the church in fearful and challenging times. We have the opportunity to live life (even in quarantine) on mission, and to share Good News at a time when the news on TV isn’t so good.
I appreciated James Emery White’s statement in his March 16 post, Why We Cancelled Our Weekend Service…And Why You Should Too. He says, “Just because a church takes a break from physically gathering together doesn’t mean it ceases to be the church! We all know that a church is more than bricks and mortar, and while called to gather for worship it is vastly more than the weekend services… At this moment, our culture needs something it doesn’t have. Not simply more test kits, but the peace that surpasses understanding.” How can you share that peace with your neighbors? White says, “By closing a physical door, we may just be opening a spiritual one.”
St. Patrick gave us so much more than green beer – although you might consider having one with your neighbors and sharing the real story of Patrick with them as a starting point for spiritual conversation.
I think he would appreciate that.
Rev. Dr. Peter Meier, FLGA District
Executive Director of Missions and Outreach
For Consideration and Sharing:
As you prepare pastoral letters and communications to the people of your congregation and school, consider how you might use them to highlight the missional opportunities God is giving.
• How could you gather and share faith stories that take place in the midst of the pandemic?
• What scriptures are you sharing to give courage and hope, pointing people to God’s promises?
• What “best practices” are you promoting to involve God’s people in caring for their neighbors?
• Consider sharing any of the above with us as a means of helping and encouraging others!
Grace Member "Jerry Freudenburg " Featured in Lutheran Reporter!
Three-time NBA champion Shaun Livingston remembers his Midwestern Lutheran roots
Three-time NBA champion Shaun Livingston remembers his Midwestern Lutheran roots
In 2016, Concordia Lutheran School, a Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod (LCMS) K–8 grade school in Peoria, Ill., dedicated a major expansion of its facility, including a new gym, stage with sound system, and storm shelter.
NBA player Shaun Livingston of the Golden State Warriors was at the ceremony. Livingston, who graduated from Concordia in 2000, gave $1 million to the capital campaign to fund the expansion.
Kirk Wessler, a member of Christ Lutheran Church in Peoria and former sports writer and editor for the Peoria Journal Star, relates the details of Livingston’s gift to the school in his 2016 feature story, “Shaun Livingston and the Friendship Worth More than $1 Million.”
Wessler tells of Livingston’s childhood in Peoria and his grandfather’s desire that he be in church. So even though the family was not Lutheran, Livingston began attending Trinity Lutheran Church in downtown Peoria because it was the closest church within walking distance.
“At Trinity,” writes Wessler, “Shaun would be baptized, with longtime Concordia teachers Tom and Ruth Ruppert standing as his godparents. He would enroll at Concordia for kindergarten, which was taught by Ruth, and years later, in eighth grade, star for a Lutheran Sports Association state championship basketball team coached by Tom.”……………………………
TIM SALESKA, “THE GOSPEL-CENTERED CHRISTIAN”
Faith is a gift of God, not something a person can be reasoned into
Most Christians would agree that the Gospel, the good news about Jesus, is the saving message in the Bible. But if we were to look at how our acceptance of this truth actually influences the way we interpret the Scriptures, or the way we preach and witness, or the way we deal with cultural issues and people outside of the faith, we would soon see our agreement fading.
So, while everyone might agree about the importance of the Gospel as the saving message of the Bible, not everyone agrees with how this belief should be embodied in the various practices of our faith. This raises a lot of questions. For my purposes here, two of them are important, “How do Lutherans understand the relationship between the Gospel and Scripture?” and, “How does our understanding influence our preaching and teaching and our lives together?” These are big questions, and in this paper, I can only start to address them. Though there are any number of directions that my argument could take, I am going to argue specifically that Lutherans have always and should continue to walk a middle road between two ditches into which it is easy to fall. The middle-of-the-road approach for which I am advocating is what I will call a “Gospel–centered approach.” The ditches to be avoided are a so-called Gospel-reductionist approach on the one side and a so-called Biblicist approach on the other
Read the rest in the PDF below.
New Trees In An Old World
A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none. A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject to all.
All the verbs of our salvation are passive. God calls and gathers people to him through his Gospel. We don’t find him like an explorer finds the headwaters of a river. We are saved by Jesus’ death and resurrection. We don’t save ourselves. We are forgiven by God’s declaration of grace and peace. We can’t forgive ourselves and hope it sticks. It doesn’t, not in relation to God anyway. We are made holy by God, just by God’s Spirit coming close to us. No amount of effort on our part is going to get us one inch closer to heaven. We don’t even actively pray, the Holy Spirit has to pray for us (Romans 8:26). In relation to God, we are perfectly passive. We are receivers, not doers. That’s who God made us to be and that’s what faith reveals to us.
So then, are Christians just supposed to lay around and wait for the resurrection? Or maybe we’re supposed to live large since, we imagine, we can’t do anything one way or the other to affect our salvation. When Christ busts in and permanently interrupts life with his grace and favor, what’s a person to do? The trick is getting the question right. Ask a question that begins with us and we’ll get an answer that serves to satisfy our desires and wants. Then we’re off again, working on our self-salvation projects in the name of God. Ask a question that begins with what Christ does for us, and we’ll get an answer that leavens the whole loaf.....
Why Do We Go to Church?
I believe that Jesus would say to us what he said to Peter, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.
For most of my Christian experience I was taught and I taught others that church was primarily a place to go to serve, to use your gifts, to bless others. “You don’t go to church to be served but to serve!” This became for me a mantra that I championed for many years as a pastor. I felt it was my duty to deconstruct the “consumer” mentality that so many American Christians seemed to espouse. This emphasis to do something for God actually sells very well in our pragmatic culture. You can rally an army of eager Christians who busy themselves with things to do believing themselves to be living radically for God. In fact, like Peter, we find it very difficult to allow Jesus to serve us (John 13:6). However, I believe that Jesus would say to us what he said to Peter, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.” (vs. 8).
Certainly the Church ought to be a place where Christians are using their gifts for the good of their neighbor. The NT is full of “one another” imperatives and after washing the disciple's feet Jesus tells his original disciples to follow his example and “wash one another’s feet.” (vv. 14-17) We miss the thrust of this passage however if we lose sight of the fact that at the heart of this command is the ongoing need for the Christian to allow Jesus to wash their own feet. The Christian, according to Jesus, is already clean but has need of a perpetual spiritual cleansing that while already accomplished has ongoing implications as we continue to battle with the world, the flesh, and the devil................
God at the Feet of Sinners
Christ knew what awaited him. He knew the pain. Yet, he also knew “that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going back to God.
BY JESSICA THOMPSON
"Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper. He laid aside his outer garments, and taking a towel, tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around him."
The disciples and Christ have just finished their last meal together. The disciples, of course, didn't know this, but Jesus did. As an act displaying his humility and kindness, he kneels before them. Jesus "who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant,”[2] lays aside his outer garments. Presumably, the very same garments that hours later would be stripped off of him and gambled for were the ones that he voluntarily lays aside now to wash his disciples’ feet. Then he takes the towel and ties it around his waist. He pours the water into the basin and begins to wash their feet. He washed the feet of each of the disciples that were there.
Judas, “the one the devil had already put it into the (his) heart to betray him”[3] Christ washes Judas’ feet with the full knowledge of what he was about to do. He stooped and washed this betrayer’s feet.
Peter, “the rooster will not crow till you have denied me three times.”..................
Never Buried Alone
Who you are buried with matters.
“So Elisha died, and they buried him. Now bands of Moabites used to invade the land in the spring of the year. And as a man was being buried, behold, a marauding band was seen and the man was thrown into the grave of Elisha, and as soon as the man touched the bones of Elisha, he revived and stood on his feet.” (2 Kings 13:20-21)
Let’s be honest for a minute. The Bible has some strange stories in it. I’m not talking about just the miraculous nature of many of the stories but rather the seeming randomness of some of them.
This story from 2 Kings 13 is both miraculous and really random. It’s only two verses long and recounts how a dead man was thrown into the grave of a deceased prophet and then came back to life. That’s it. We don’t know his name, his family, what he did after that, or how people responded to his resurrection. We only know he was dead and then he wasn’t. You could read it in 10-seconds and move on, but I suggest that you push pause.
There is a reason why it is there. Like all of the Old Testament, this revival story is pointing to something else–Someone else. And it’s speaking one profound truth.
How Christians Use Fear to Fire God
When you get down to the nitty-gritty of it, all fear boils down to one thing: future telling.
It goes like this: Maybe a possible scenario pops in our mind, we are faced with a decision to make, or maybe our brains are reacting to a small occurrence in our day but either way, we allow the future to fearfully unravel in our minds.
In the future, all hell breaks loose. The bad thing that popped into our mind now unfolds in gruesome detail (and we definitely believe it is actually going to happen). All the fearful possibilities that surround the decisions we have to make are now unfurling in our brains as if they are the sole definers of our choices. That wayward look we got from our boss, that “non-like” we got on our Instagram feed or that small weird mark we found on our child are all now pointing us to ultimate demise.
The Resurrection is Not Greater than the Cross:
The power of God is most known in His apparent weakness, the victory of God in His apparent failure, the salvation of God, for us, in this apparent destruction of God, by us.
We all look forward to Lent’s conclusion and the celebration of Resurrection Sunday. This is the Sunday of victory and joy as the Church enters into the reality that Christ has defeated death and hell, declared victory over such enemies and set history on its final course of consummation. But there is a danger that the joy of Easter will shine with such brightness that it will outshine the cross.
The cross and resurrection are not two independent events. They are forever connected, while distinct, as two sides of a coin can be called, “heads” and “tails” but remain a unified treasure. But there is a danger forever threatening the cross and its power. That danger has traditionally been called a Theology of Glory. The main premise of this false theology is that the cross is a necessary evil. In this view the cross is something we pass on through in order to get to the real point: the resurrection. This view is deeply dangerous because it makes the cross a means to a greater end instead of the end itself. Jesus says, “It is finished” on the cross, not, “Stage one complete, onto stage two”. The Theology of Glory is dangerous in a practical way too because it robs the cross of its power and therefore robs us of our joy and hope.......................
Secure In His Righteousness
The cross is one of our most important symbols to remind us that God came down, dwelled with us, died for us, because he loved us, and wanted to save us.
Allow me to paint a picture for you:
I knew a man in my old neighborhood. He was an old leathery-faced balding biker with facial tattoos. He was the kind of guy that when you saw him, and his scowl heading in your direction, you thought about crossing the street, just in case. I met him at my old church’s neighborhood food pantry. Once you got to know him, you found out his wasn’t that bad. He was headstrong and had a temper sometimes, but he could also be quite sweet in some ways. He was also drunk or high around us too many of those times to count.
Including on Sundays.
Eventually, on occasion, he would come to church, sit way in the back and listen to the worship. If you glanced his way, you’d be surprised to see this old biker guy with tears in his eyes. He’d always leave at the end of worship, that was enough church for him, but not before leaving a couple of dollars on the pastor’s chair up front. I don’t think he was trying to buy his way into heaven. I do think for a guy that had so many struggles and temptations to overcome, it was the best he could muster as an outward expression repentance and worship. He didn’t get it like so many of us armchair theologians do. But I believe he still got it in a raw, unpolished way. He passed away a few years ago, never seeming to gain a true and continuous earthly victory over all his issues, but I do believe he rests with the Lord today, finally free of the curse of all his struggles with sin.....
Shut Out
Jesus’ call is to those behind that church door, and it is now personal. It is to anyone who hears his voice and opens the door.
“‘Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.’” -Revelation 3:20
For many years, I read this as a “salvation” verse. Jesus is knocking on the door of the hearts of the unsaved, asking to come in. To me, it represented individual free will regarding the choice each must make as to whether or not to answer Jesus’ knock which was accompanied by his promise of what he will do for the one who does choose to open the door. It was a picture of Jesus respectfully waiting for an invitation to save us. Then, I read the context.
This verse comes at the end of Jesus’ personal messages to seven specific churches, as conveyed to and related by the Apostle John. In Revelation 1:13, John sees Jesus “in the midst” of these churches. These words, “in the midst”, are the same words used in Matthew 18:20 where Jesus promised that, “Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” These messages were given by Jesus to different groups of those who were gathered in his name.
The church in Laodicea is the last church of the seven to whom Jesus spoke. He begins by identifying himself to them as the Amen and the faithful and true witness, emphasizing that what he was about to say regarding them was trustworthy, and intimating that they would likely disagree. Then, in verse 15, he launches into what could be called a diagnosis:
“‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.’”
This church, gathered in Jesus’ name, held one picture of who they were while Jesus himself held quite another. They were supremely satisfied with themselves. They were fat and happy with what they thought they had achieved. Jesus quotes them as saying, “I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing.” Take note of all of those I’s! Their focus was on their own accomplishments and they were completely unaware of anything they lacked. The Laodicean Church was neither coldly against Christ nor were they burning with passion for him. They simply felt no need of him at all, and because of that he warns them that he will spit them out of his mouth.
Why Can't We Make Images of God
Only in the person of Jesus do we see God! He is literally “God with us,” the true image of God
Commands like this one in Exodus 20 sound strange. What a harsh thing for God to say. If God is invisible, why not have pictures, statues, or images? We are visual creatures after all.
God grounds his reasoning for this command in what he has done for Israel in redeeming her from slavery. This second commandment flows from the first. The Lord gives such commands because he is holy, just, and good. He deserves our respect, love, and obedience not only because he has the “superior firepower,” but because he has created us for love and obedience.
Religions in the Ancient World
In the ancient world religion, magic, and superstition were often intertwined. It was very common to attempt to control a deity through secret names, incantations, and idols. Controlling divine powers, so you could have better crops or a large family, was a primary objective in religion.
The Lord makes the second commandment in this specific context. He cannot be confined by anything or anyone; he cannot be coerced to give grace or love. It was through images and idols that the ancient world sought to control their gods. To make such an image is to do violence to God and his character (Deut. 16:22; Lev. 26:1). That is why creating idols comes with such harsh-sounding punishments (Ps. 97:7). The unique authority and transcendence of God is a proper basis for his commands since he alone can decide how to be worshiped.
When Doctrine Becomes Idolatry
Christian doctrine in the hands of the old sinner becomes a megaphone that he uses to proclaim, “Listen to me, I’ve got all the answers.
I’m a drug addict. Specifically, a recovering drug addict. More specific, a grateful recovering drug addict. And as I sit here now, clear-headed, I can reflect on what it was like just before drug use pushed me over the edge of sanity and I hit bottom. I remember that my preferred daily cocktail of chemicals was cannabis, hallucinogens, and prescription narcotics. Then, thank God, they threw me into a ditch of hopelessness that I couldn't crawl out of, and I knew it. I’d used up all my tomorrows. No more free day passes. I was awoken to the fact that I hadn’t been using drugs, drugs had been using me, and they’d used me up.
The revelation that I was powerless over my addiction, that my life had become unmanageable, drove me, eventually, to get clean. I found a twelve step meeting. I relapsed several times. In the in-between times though, I didn’t recognize that I was using my “drug problem” to hide my “reality problem.” Even though I attended meetings, listened to other addicts tell their story, and shared my personal tales of insanity, I still, all too often, transferred my addiction onto other stuff I imagined could give me relief. One example was when I threw myself into cycling. Four hours a day on a bike. Six hours a day on weekends, until my wife demanded I choose between her and our son or go semi-pro to make a living racing. And that’s the way it went for years. Until I dedicated myself to working a program of recovery I flitted from one new addiction-feeding distraction to another. Not surprising, the result was still the same. Self-destructive tendencies. Relationships neglected. Responsibilities put off, self-justifications, self-preservation at all costs, everything custom designed to escape having to deal with reality as it is, not as I would have it be.
What Should You Do When You Don't Feel Like a Christian
Faith is not a feeling, even though it is often accompanied by profound experience. But is created in us by the external announcement of the gospel.
In my last year of seminary, almost everything went wrong. I was about to graduate with no job prospects. I was in debt. My wife had just miscarried, and finals were about to begin. My wife wanted me to finish; she wanted us to move out of that stage of life. I didn’t want to let her down, but I felt guilty for studying. As Sunday approached, I didn’t want to go to church; I didn’t feel like a Christian. My faith felt weak.
I had the right answers. I knew the theology. I had received a good education, but I had such a hard time praying. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe God was there, or that I believed God didn’t care, or that God was not good because he had allowed evil to come my way. It was much more complicated. I just didn’t feel well; I knew God wasn't to blame.
I blamed myself. That semester was stressful. In the rush to study and finish strong while trying to secure a job and complete my internship responsibilities at my local church, I was constantly frustrated, exhausted, and irritable. I brought these feelings home to my wife. I caused her a lot of stress as she worried about our future, a future for which I had failed to adequately prepare. This is what I told myself; I couldn’t help it. I remember that as we sat together in the hospital, all feelings of hope dissipated.
As Sunday approached, I didn’t feel like a Christian, but I went to church anyway. My plan was simple. I was going to keep trying to be a Christian. I was going to keep trying to pray, but I wasn’t going to pretend that everything was okay when it wasn’t...................
((Please Consider reading this article, it is good))
How to ‘Deny Yourself’ Without Destroying Yourself
letting go of our hoped-for outcomes and sitting in the space of powerlessness with ourselves and for the world.
Have you ever been in a relationship with someone who was too demanding? Perhaps they wanted so much of your attention that you felt like you were slowly vanishing? This kind of co-dependency can be toxic. So what do we do with the demands that Jesus extends to His followers? Does He ask too much of us? Does following Jesus require us to be self-deprecating?
Consider this passage from the middle of the Gospel of Mark, the climax of the story. Jesus asks His disciples who people are saying He is and what they think about his mission. Then He asks them who they think he is. Peter answers, and his answer is right on. But as one of my Pepperdine theology professors would tell us, small theological boats should stay close to shore. Peter should have quit while he was ahead.
Jesus begins to elaborate on Peter’s answer, and Peter quickly corrects Him, earning sharp words from Jesus. But the story doesn’t end there. It ends with an invitation. You can’t follow Jesus by doing anything less than losing your life. Jesus is saying that through weakness, powerlessness and death grow victory, strength and life. That what might look nonsensical or like a stumbling block or scandal actually holds the key to being a follower of Jesus and being part of transforming the world we live in.
When I first presented these ideas in a course I was teaching, my students challenged this self-denial. Many of them were familiar with relationships that seemed to suck the life out of them and asked why endorse a Christian idea that simply enables unhealthy relational dynamics? And they were rightly cautious of a “depraved” view of the self that in the name of self-denial felt simply like self-deprecation. I am a Christian so I have to give up everything including myself. So the question is how does this spiritual call of denial not become co-dependency or self-deprecating?
Let me clarify. Co-dependency is what we call it when someone attends to the desires and needs of another person at the expense of one’s own needs, often found in relationships. Co-dependency is often found where addiction and violence are present...........................
Here We Are Now. Entertain Us.
When our affections find rest in the preaching of Christ, we are divinely 'entertained' by the gospel. Our souls find grace upon grace. Our restless hearts will come again and rest in God.
BY PAUL DUNK
Do you remember way back in May 2007, Charlie and his brother Harry were sitting on a chair when Charlie bit Harry's finger? The little guys broke the internet.
Do you remember the double rainbow of 2010?
Here we are now - entertain us. ~ Kurt Cobain
Like myself, you probably laughed at Charlie, the double rainbow and the innumerable amount of funny videos that went viral since.
Needless to say, these two videos are old news and the next big thing is being uploaded as I type this.
We love the next big thing.
The next innovative thing.
The next money making thing.
The next fashionable thing.
The next technological thing.
The next entertaining thing.
The next fitness thing.
The next dietary thing.
The next funny thing.
Here we are now. entertain us.
As preachers, we have to deliver a message every seven days. As worshippers, you are on the receiving end those messages - every seven days. We all come to worship - every seven days.
Now, according to Jesus and the New Testament, He's supposed to be smack dab in the centre of our worship - every seven days. Gathering around the same thing seems like a pretty tall order for people who are always in search of the next big thing.
Now, if us preachers present the gospel repeatedly in anticipated ways, with predictable phrases and pithy go-to sayings, we are inviting you to nod off.
Here's the challenge. If, for fear of your impending boredom, we don't preach about Jesus - every seven days, we've abandoned our call.
Preaching is, quite literally, proclaiming Christ and Him crucified. It's supposed to be our jam. So if we aren't speaking about Him, there's someone more qualified to speak to you about the topic we decided to speak to you about.
Full disclosure here: if us pastors get off the Christ Alone bus, we're of very little value to you. We're not as inspiring as Margaret Thatcher, we don't have the business acumen of Ken Blanchard and we're not nearly as entertaining as Jimmy Fallon.
As Jared Wilson states in his book Gospel Wakefulness, "We must routinely present the unchanging gospel in a way that does justice to its earthshaking announcement. This doesn’t mean we need to set it up with a power ballad or dress it up. It means we present it like life or death stuff."
If it's not important to us as worshippers that Christ is presented weekly from the scriptures, or that our children grow up learning God's law and God's gospel, we will come into our churches like viral video junkies, tired of yesterdays-news-Jesus, looking for the preacher to give us our next double rainbow.
If Christ doesn't need to be central, then any talk that inspires us to be better people is cool beans. Jesus got airtime in the last series, so this next series is about me? Perfect. Hearing about Jesus every seven days seems like overkill anyhow. Besides, I don't care if my kids are taught the actual bible, so long as the teaching helps them develop good morals and ethics. Plus they like the roller coaster in the world class children's program.
Here we are now. Entertain us.
Over in the other ditch, our ears can itch in a different way. In that ditch we're so bored with the Lord, we assume Christ, bypass His grace and go straight to intellectual stimulus via academic lectures that are so theologically nuanced, Christ ends up playing the background to the finer points of theology. While our airtight doctrine is presented with a level of accuracy that would rival the church fathers who crafted the Westminster Catechism, the power of Christ and His grace can still be conspicuously missing from those types of sermons.
We can puff our chests out because our children memorized the catechisms, but if Jesus isn't front and centre, they can grow up to be like mechanics who know where all the bolts go but have never experienced the joy of driving with the wind in their hair. They're bored with the Lord too.
Here we are now. Entertai... meh. Intellectually stimulate us............................
Just Because You Forgive, it Doesn’t Mean You Have to Trust Again
As you discuss the future, you clearly delineate what your expectations are, what limits you will set, what the conditions will be, or what the consequences (good or bad) of various actions will be.
“I know I’m supposed to forgive,” a woman said to me at a recent seminar. “But, I just can’t open myself up to that kind of hurt anymore. I know I should forgive him and trust him, but if I let him back in, the same thing will happen, and I can’t go through that again.”
“Who said anything about ‘trusting’ him?” I asked. “I don’t think you should trust him either.”
“But you said I was supposed to forgive him, and if I do that, doesn’t that mean giving him another chance? Don’t I have to open up to him again?”
“No, you don’t,” I replied. “Forgiveness and trust are two totally different things. In fact, that’s part of your problem. Every time he’s done this, he’s come back and apologized, and you have just accepted him right back into your life, and nothing has changed. You trusted him, nothing was different, and he did it again. I don’t think that’s wise.”
“Well,” she asked, “How can I forgive him without opening myself up to being hurt again?”
Good question. We hear this problem over and over again. People have been hurt, and they do one of two things. Either they confront the other person about something that has happened, the other person says he’s sorry, and they forgive, open themselves up again, and blindly trust. Or, in fear of opening themselves up again, they avoid the conversation altogether and hold onto the hurt, fearing that forgiveness will make them vulnerable once again.
How do you resolve this dilemma?
The simplest way to help you to organize your thoughts as you confront this problem is to remember three points:.........................