He wanted more for me, so he pushed. The scary thing is that I can read my own life in similar terms – achieving a lot, but maybe not as much as if I’d just tried harder. And I have a niggling suspicion that I have communicated the same message to my own children: “Nice try, but you’ve got to try harder than that.” I remember with shame the day one of my kids at about age 4 proudly brought home from church a piece of Sunday School art. Before I put it on the refrigerator, I felt it necessary to correct a misspelled word. I wonder what I communicated to my child that day.

Imagine my shock to discover in that sternest of theologians, John Calvin, an entirely different take on the way our Heavenly Father looks at the efforts of his children:

God’s children are pleasing and lovable to him, since he sees in them the marks and features of his own countenance. For we have elsewhere taught that regeneration is a renewal of the divine image in us. Since, therefore, wherever God contemplates his own face, he both rightly loves it and holds it in honor, it is said with good reason that the lives of believers, framed to holiness and righteousness, are pleasing to him. (Institutes 3.17.5)

Therefore, as we ourselves, when we have been engrafted in Christ, are righteous in God’s sight because our iniquities are covered by Christ’s sinlessness, so our works are righteous and are thus regarded because whatever fault is otherwise in them is buried in Christ’s purity, and is not charged to our account. Accordingly, we can deservedly say that by faith alone not only we ourselves but our works as well are justified. (Institutes 3.17.10)

Here’s to the day when I can believe the good news is really that good.

Here’s to the day when I can believe he sees in me – and rightly loves and honors – the marks and features of his own countenance.

Here’s to the day I can dare to believe that I am pleasing and lovable to him, that whatever faults there are in my works are buried in Christ’s purity, and not charged to my account.

Here’s to the day when I can stand and say: “Thank God, by faith not only I myself but my works are justified.”

Here’s to the day when I can imagine my Heavenly Father proudly displaying my “Sunday School art” on his refrigerator and turning to his heavenly court, puffing out his chest and saying, “A son of my redemption did that, and I am so proud of him!”

Joshua 22: The men of Israel were on the banks of the Jordan River, heading at last for their hard-won new homes in the Promised Land. The Reubenites, the Gadites and the half-tribe of Manasseh would be settling down on the east side of the river, the other 9½ tribes on the west. Before they went home, though, the men of Reuben, Gad and Manasseh stopped to build an altar on the west side of the river. And when the other Israelites heard about it, they grabbed their swords and bows and got ready to go to war against their brothers.

Why would the men of Israel want to fight with their brothers over the construction of an altar? Something about that altar really ticked them off …

Leviticus 17:1-4 says that any Israelite who offers sacrifices anywhere other than the entrance to the Tent of Meeting, in front of the tabernacle of the LORD was to be “considered guilty of bloodshed; he has shed blood and must be cut off from his people.”

That’s why the western-dwelling tribes were so bent out of shape: they thought the eastern tribes were setting up a competing altar to the altar to the Lord. Give them this: They were serious about worship.

The kicker, as they say, is that the men of Reuben, Gad and Manasseh built that altar to do precisely the opposite. Joshua 22:24-25 tell us they built it so that the sons and grandsons and great-grandsons of the other 9½ tribes would never forget the sons and grandsons and great-grandsons of the 2½ tribes. Never forget their unity as God’s people. Never forget that they, too, worshiped YHWH, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Never forget that they were brothers.

Get the irony: The 2½ tribes meant it as a gesture of unity, and the 9½ took it as a declaration of war. They caught hell not from the pagans, the Canaanites, Hittites, etc. – but from their fellow Israelites. Talk about “No good deed goes unpunished …”

My old friend Wilf Bellamy once made the comment that he was always glad to be Reformed, but not always glad to be a Presbyterian – because of the way we sometimes treat one another. He described it as a “meanness masquerading as holiness.” If you have never experienced that in your tradition or in your church, praise God. (Wait till your second week on the job.) If you have experienced it, know you are not alone. If you have gone to war against a brother for less-than-war-worthy reasons, confess, repent and seek reconciliation.

John Calvin (we pause for a moment of reverential silence …) was asked once to help mediate a dispute between two Reformed churches in Germany. Both churches were begun by English refugees fleeing religious persecution at home. They both fled England because they wanted the freedom to worship God as they saw fit … and the first one was pressuring the second one because they weren’t worshiping exactly like the first one. You can’t make this stuff up.

Calvin wrote them something along the lines of: “You war with one another as though you were at peace with the world.”

We are going to catch flak from the world – over our morals, our ethics, our theology, our belief that Jesus is “the way, the truth and the life, and no one comes to the Father except through [him].” It’s inevitable. Jesus guaranteed it. But before we “war with one another,” we better make sure it’s really worth going to war over. In war there are casualties. The world, however, finds it very entertaining …

I was critical of the 9½ tribes for being too quick to want to go to war with their brothers; I need to give them credit for repenting just as quickly, for reaching out to them in the spirit of reconciliation: Joshua 22:33-34: They were glad to hear the report and praised God. And they talked no more about going to war against them to devastate the country where the Reubenites and the Gadites lived. And the Reubenites and the Gadites gave the altar this name: A Witness Between Us that the LORD is God.

Unity. One God. One Savior. One cross to unite us. One Body of Christ.

United we stand. Divided – we’re not worthy of being called God’s people.

Kent Keller

Think about that.

You could be doing intense workouts, pushing yourself hard in the gym, but then eating all the wrong foods that keep your body looking the same.

I don’t know about you, but if I’m going to put in all that effort in the gym, I certainly don’t want my results hijacked by poor nutrition.

Transforming your body comes down to two simple parts: 1) consistent, challenging exercise and 2) balanced, proper nutrition.

When you skip on the balanced, proper nutrition, you cheat yourself out of the sculpted physique that you should have.

The food you eat prior to and following exercise plays a key role in the overall success of your workout. What you eat and when you eat can either help you burn more calories and build more muscle or it can hinder your weight-loss and muscle-mass goals.

Here’s how it works. Your body gets energy from the carbohydrates you eat. Carbohydrates are converted to glucose, and unused glucose is then converted to glycogen, which is stored in your liver and muscles.

During intense exercise, your body uses up this stored energy. Not having a store of energy, your body can’t function at its potential.

Healthy pre- and post-workout foods provide your body with the glycogen needed to fuel your muscles during aerobic and anaerobic exercise.

Pre-Workout Fuel. Many people find that exercising first thing in the morning works best for their schedule. For some, this means heading to the gym on an empty stomach. Unfortunately, when you exercise with your body’s “gas tank” on empty, your body will start to take the amino acids from your muscles and convert them to the glucose you need for energy.

Therefore, instead of burning fat, you may actually break down your muscle!

This is the opposite of what you want to do.

In order to burn fat, you need to fuel up with something nutritious an hour to an hour and a half before working out. This gives your body enough time to digest the food and make the energy available for exercising.

Good examples of healthy pre-workout meals or snacks to give your body the energy it needs to exercise include high-fiber cereal with skim milk, a two- to three-ounce turkey breast, a low sugar energy bar, banana, poached egg with whole-wheat toast and grapefruit, or a lean turkey burger.

Don’t have time to eat a meal before exercising? You still need to eat something. A quick way to give your body immediate energy is to eat a simple carbohydrate such as fruit or juice in a protein drink or shake 15 to 30 minutes prior to working out. And avoid heavy meals before exercising, as these large meals may slow you down and make you feel sluggish during your routine.

The combination of food to eat before a workout should contain complex and simple carbohydrates, fiber, and low-fat protein to give you energy, keep you feeling full, and help regulate a normal blood sugar level. Try to make sure each pre-workout meal or snack contains this combination of nutrients. Not having the right amount of carbs for energy will hinder your ability to burn calories, build muscle, and exercise to your full potential.

Replenish Post-workout. The goal of post-workout nutrition is to help muscles rebuild and strengthen following the stress and loss of glycogen they experience during exercise. To replenish energy stores, your muscles need protein and carbohydrates within half an hour to an hour and a half following exercise.

Examples of a post-workout snacks and meals include a four- to six-ounce turkey breast and brown rice, a green salad with grilled chicken, or a smoothie with fresh fruit and low-fat yogurt.

Recipe of the Week

Tropical Chicken Salad

This salad is the perfect pre or post workout meal. It has plenty of protein and fiber, vitamins, minerals and lots of delicious flavor.
Servings: 8

Here’s what you need…

• 1 head cabbage, chopped
• 1 red bell pepper, chopped
• 1 mango, chopped
• 1/2 cup pineapple, chopped
• 1 bunch cilantro, chopped
• 1/3 cup green onions, chopped
• 4 skinless chicken breast, baked and chopped
• 1/4 cup low calorie mango dressing

1. Mix all of the salad ingredients in a large bowl. Toss with the dressing.

Nutritional Analysis:One serving equals: 200 calories, 3 fat, 144mg sodium, 14g carbohydrate, 4g fiber, and 30g protein.

Fitness Tip of the Week

Feed Your Muscles, Not Your Fat

The next time you head to the gym to lift weights or go to the pool to swim laps, make sure your body is fueled up with the complex carbs, protein, and fiber it needs for energy and stamina. And after your workout, replenish the lost energy.

DO NOT feed your fat by consuming a pre or post workout containing:

Simple carbohydrates

Sugar

Large amounts of fat

Lesson with a Hairbrush
by Beth Moore

Knoxville airport all waiting to board planes:

I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I was doing. I’d had a marvelous morning with the Lord. I say that because I want to tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God really working in you. You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise. Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a thousand reasons not the least of which is your ego…

I tried to keep from staring but he was such a strange sight. Humped over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes that obviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier. His knees protruded from his trousers, and his shoulders looked like the coat hanger was still in his shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses of veins and bones. The strangest part of him was his hair and nails. Stringy grey hair hung well over his shoulders and down part of his back. His fingernails were long. Clean, but strangely out of place on an old man.

I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning my face. As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found myself wondering if I’d just had a Howard Hughes sighting. Then, I remembered reading somewhere that he was dead. So this man in the airport…an impersonator maybe? Was a camera on us somewhere?….

There I sat trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me. All the while my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a feeling for him. Let’s admit it. Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern, and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking old man.

I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall. I’ve learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so contrary to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen. And it may be embarrassing. I immediately began to resist because I could feel God working on my spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind. “Oh no, God please no.” I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through it into heaven and said, “Don’t make me witness to this man. Not right here and now. Please. I’ll do anything. Put me on the same plane, but don’t make me get up here and witness to this man in front of this gawking audience. Please, Lord!”

There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, “Please don’t make me witness to this man. Not now. I’ll do it on the plane.” Then I heard it…”I don’t want you to witness to him. I want you to brush his hair.”

The words were so clear, my heart leapt into my throat, and my thoughts spun like a top. Do I witness to the man or brush his hair? No brainer. I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, “God, as I live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this man. I’m on this Lord. I’m your girl! You’ve never seen a woman witness to a man faster in your life. What difference does it make if his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed? I am on him. I am going to witness to this man.”

Again as clearly as I’ve ever heard an audible word, God seemed to write this statement across the wall of my mind. “That is not what I said, Beth. I don’t want you to witness to him. I want you to go brush his hair.”

I looked up at God and quipped, “I don’t have a hairbrush. It’s in my suitcase on the plane. How am I supposed to brush his hair without a hairbrush?”

God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began to walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God’s word: “I will thoroughly finish you unto all good works.” (2 Tim 3:7) I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself. Even as I retell this story my pulse quickens and I feel those same butterflies.

I knelt down in front of the man, and asked as demurely as possible, “Sir, may I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?”

He looked back at me and said, “What did you say?”

“May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?”

To which he responded in volume ten, “Little lady, if you expect me to hear you, you’re going to have to talk louder than that.

At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out, “SIR, MAY I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?” At which point every eye in the place darted right at me. I was the only thing in the room looking more peculiar than old Mr. Longlocks. Face crimson and forehead breaking out in a sweat.

I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on his face, and say, “If you really want to.” Are you kidding? Of course I didn’t want to. But God didn’t seem interested in my personal preference right about then. He pressed on my heart until I could utter the words, “Yes, sir, I would be pleased. But I have one little problem. I don’t have a hairbrush.”

“I have one in my bag,” he responded.

I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands and knees and unzipped the stranger’s old carry-on hardly believing what I was doing. I stood up and started brushing the old man’s hair.

It was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I don’t do many things well, but I must admit I’ve had notable experience untangling knotted hair mothering two little girls. Like I’d done with either Amanda or Melissa in such a condition, I began brushing at the very bottom of the strands, remembering to take my time not to pull.

A miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that old man’s hair…. Everybody else in the room disappeared. There was no one alive for those moments except that old man and me. I brushed and brushed and I brushed until every tangle was out of that hair. I know this sounds so strange but I’ve never felt that kind of love for another soul in my entire life. I believe with all my heart, I—for that few minutes—felt a portion of the very love of God. That He had overtaken my heart for a little while like someone renting a room and making Himself at home for a short while. The emotions were so strong and so pure that I knew they had to be God’s.

His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant’s. I slipped the brush back in the bag, went around the chair to face him. I got back down on my knees, put my hands on his knees, and said, “Sir, do you know my Jesus?”

He said, “Yes, I do.” Well, that figures.

He explained, “I’ve known Him since I married my bride. She wouldn’t marry me until I got to know the Savior.” He said “You see, the problem is, I haven’t seen my bride in months. I’ve had open-heart surgery, and she’s been too ill to come see me. I was sitting here thinking to myself what a mess I must be for my bride.”

Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when we’re completely unaware of the significance. This, on the other hand, was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in details only He could have known. It was a God moment, and I’ll never forget it.

Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane. I was deeply ashamed of how I’d acted earlier and would have been so proud to have accompanied him on that aircraft.

I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board, the airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears streaming down her cheeks. She said, “That old man’s sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why did you do that? What made you do that?”

I said, “Do you know Jesus? He can be the bossiest thing!” And we got to share.

I learned something about God that day. He knows if you’re exhausted because you’re hungry, you’re serving in the wrong place or it is time to move on but you feel too responsible to budge. He knows if you’re hurting or feeling rejected. He knows if you’re sick or drowning under a wave of temptation. Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed. He sees you as an individual. Tell Him your need!

I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way…all because I didn’t want people to think I was strange. God didn’t send me to that old man. He sent that old man to me.

John 1:14 “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We
have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the
Father, full of grace and truth.”

I know about the Invisible Children organization. Several of my students have participated in raising money and awareness for this organization. Two students even started their own non-profit called Children Everywhere in response to the impact of this organization.

I also saw the video of the Kony 2012 filmmaker and co-founder of Invisible Children, Jason Russell, naked on the sidewalk in broad daylight pounding the pavement with his fist.

I like this guy. I like him a lot.

And if you are in ministry, you should like him too.

Don’t you have days where you desire nothing more than to strip down naked, run outside screaming, scaring passer-byers by bloodying your fist on the hard pavement? I do. Because then I could be done with all of this. Because then I could walk away…be forced away. Because then my behavior would disqualify me from ministry.

I fantasize about the ways in which I could get disqualified from ministry. I know you do too.

Why must I (and you) devise ways to fall? Because God rarely lets us just quit.

As much as I love Steve Brown, it frustrates me every time I hear his story that one night late in his study, he told God, “I don’t want to do this anymore.” And God said, “Ok, you don’t have to anymore.”

What?! I’ve prayed that prayer at least a dozen times in my 5 years in ministry and…well, I’m still here…still doing it.

So if God isn’t going to release me like he did Steve, I must find another way out and I like Jason Russell because he has offered me one more option.

As Jesus prepares his disciples for ministry, he says:

“Don’t be naive. Some people will impugn your motives, others will smear your reputation—just because you believe in me. Don’t be upset when they haul you before the civil authorities. Without knowing it, they’ve done you—and me—a favor, given you a platform for preaching the kingdom news! And don’t worry about what you’ll say or how you’ll say it. The right words will be there; the Spirit of your Father will supply the words. When people realize it is the living God you are presenting and not some idol that makes them feel good, they are going to turn on you, even people in your own family. There is a great irony here: proclaiming so much love, experiencing so much hate! But don’t quit. Don’t cave in. It is all well worth it in the end. It is not success you are after in such times but survival. Be survivors! Before you’ve run out of options, the Son of Man will have arrived.” (Matthew 10:17-23, The Message)

Wow. I would much rather hear “Everyone will love you. Just go out there and be you and you will do great things for the Kingdom.” But Jesus told them (and me) it wouldn’t be that way.

After her husband’s arrest, Danica Russell issued a statement:

“We thought a few thousand people would see the film, but in less than a week, millions of people around the world saw it. While that attention was great for raising awareness about Joseph Kony, it also brought a lot of attention to Jason and, because of how personal the film is, many of the attacks against it were also very personal, and Jason took them very hard.”

Whether or not you agree with him or his method, Jason is one of us. He is a believer who wants to see the Kingdom here on earth as it is in heaven.

But Jason forgot what Jesus told us.

I forget sometimes too. And you do too. But now you’ve been reminded.

You might still catch me on the evening news naked and pounding pavement with my fist. But not today.

So glad it’s all about grace.

Zach

Erik reminded me that I skipped Addiction and wanted to know what I was hiding!

I confess it was an oversight, but I suspect someone needed to read the blurb about Adultery and decided to not go there! Maybe? I didn’t get any calls though.

One of our ministry functions at CMM is providing Coach Training. One of the activities the participants do is get into groups and come up with as many types of addictions they can think of that are struggles for pastor/church planters. I now have a list of over 25 things pastors can get addicted to—sexual addiction, success, food, exercise, electronics, work and alcohol, just to name a few. In all our addictions there is a physiological connection. In other words, it’s not all psycho-spiritual.

Archibald Hart’s pen informs us on this: “The third step downwards is that you develop an Addiction to being successful. Your body adapts to that level, so you’ve got to up the ante, start new projects. You’ve become so addicted to the physical pleasure associated with new things that you have to keep starting new things and being successful in them. You’re now in a chase-your-tail kind of cycle.” He applies this to the field of church planters but I am going to edit it so you can read it with your pastor hat on…

“There is also the risk that [pastors] become addicted to their adrenaline, which comes with risk-taking and “highlight experiences.” There is a lot of novelty associated with [pastoral life], and you become very quickly adapted to this adrenaline surge, which biologically impacts the brain’s pleasure center quite significantly. That slowly builds an addictive process. In [church life] there are lots of ups and downs, which can build into an addictive process. The gambling addict would not be an addict if every time he played poker, he won! It’s the risk factor – the fact that you lose more often than you win – that makes it addicting. That same is true in church. You seem to be winning… and then suddenly you appear to be losing.”

So, what happens to us as pastors is that ministry life, which is supposed to be a well of service and care for people (from experiencing grace transformation in us) has a subtle way of shifting to a habit that enslaves. Ministry can be addictive. A good thing, becomes the ultimate thing and starts the enslaving addictive life. We start out thinking what we are doing will serve us well, but eventually it overtakes us and owns us. So the pastor who thinks, “I will work hard on my sermons so the people will be fed well” soon is ‘flipped’ if you will, through pride (cause the people are telling him how wonderful he is) or fear (because his critics are getting louder) into being mastered by his efforts to produce the perfect sermon. The god of approval made a ‘covenantal’ promise to him that the way to find life (acceptance, approval, reputation) is by working hard, through long hours of preparation and excellent illustrations. “If you serve me you will live” if you don’t I will make your life miserable”, is the subtle whisper.

No wonder we are pooped. Hart concludes his article with these words…

“For many pastors, to break the addiction would mean starting fewer things, maintaining what you’ve got. Why must you have a new branch, a new extension? We rationalize and say, “It’s for God’s kingdom.” But that’s not always honest. Besides, you could let other people do some things, too! The risks are phenomenal, and it’s not going to get better. In this new millennium the addiction levels are higher than they’ve ever been, the depression level is higher, anxiety is higher. I think it’s becoming dangerous out there. I know there are pastors today who understand that their task is to be faithful, who are looking not for signs of outward success but for signs that they have been true to God… but they are rare gems. In the American church, bigness is the proof of God’s blessing. That’s our theology. But that’s a new theology. It started with the church growth movement in the 60s, though I don’t think it’s a true reflection of what was intended there. What was intended was simply to remove obstacles so churches could grow. But now the pendulum has swung and it has become an obsession, where egos are defined by it. I think we may be in for a correction.

This last year alone I have spoken at conferences to over 10,000 pastors, and universally I am getting the message, ‘I am worn out. The job isn’t satisfying. Either God’s deaf or not interested.’ There is a fair amount of disillusionment setting in. The incidence of depression is higher. We can’t have mega-churches everywhere. There’s something wrong with that picture. I think the time has come for churches to focus not just on keeping all the growth for itself. We have to teach pastors that there is an optimal size for a church and then it is ready to plant, rather than put everything back into its own big basket. I think there is some theological thinking needing to be done.”

If you are addicted, please allow that to serve you as a warning light to go now and get help. One of the ministry functions of Key Life is to resource pastors with addictions! Be a risk taker and ask for help. I think you will be glad you did!

[28] “Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it? [29] For if you lay the foundation and are not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule you, [30] saying, ‘This person began to build and wasn’t able to finish.’[31] “Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Won’t he first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? [32] If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. [33] In the same way, those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples. (Luke14:28-33)

I sat with four other folks in my office last week talking about a joint venture in Ethiopia. The remarkable directors of a center in Addis Ababa who have worked with street kids and prostituted boys, girls, and women have asked us to join them in developing a curriculum to train indigenous care givers to better address the consequences of trauma and abuse. Three of us at the meeting are part of the teaching staff of a start-up ministry at The Seattle School of Theology and Psychology called the Allender Center for Abuse and Trauma. We have been in process for nearly two years and are on the border of finishing our first four week training process for professional therapists. We have upped the commitment next year to do the same professional training and to add three additional weeks to train pastors, leaders, and advocates who work with people who know trauma in the past and/or present.

I looked at the faces of my two colleagues and I knew they were exhausted, but both of them have long and deep connections to Africa, especially the East African orbit. They radiated with anticipation and intensity. I felt old and tired. But I know the fusion of joy I felt in the last night we were in Ethiopia when I knelt with my colleagues on a linoleum floor until the blood in my knees began to drain into my feet and I felt the black hands from 14 nations bless our heads and howl us in waves of dance and sound to the throne of God.

I am bound to the faces of Cherry and Wondi, the two directors. They are two of the most courageous, beautiful, hilarious, passionate followers of Jesus I have ever met. My heart yearns to be back in their presence. And I am exhausted and I know every question we ask and the discussion regarding the grave impediments to the project are moving us all closer to the inevitable tipping point where we decide yes or no. The plot always thickens; the decision congeals.

And what I became aware of most was the untenable reality that every decision is a simple yes or no. But within the decision is the vast concatenation of choice that no one can possibly surmise. One day you will make a decision and run out the door to get a carton of milk and it will be your last trip on the earth due to the insolent violence of a drunk driver. You will say yes to a ministry opportunity and not be able to calculate the number of hours you will spend keeping the team patched together while addressing the envy, hurt, and misunderstandings amongst your volunteer team.

It is far worse than the future is uncertain. It is far worse than mere pessimism. It is utter certainty that the avalanche of new choices will in their own right spawn new decisions that demand a reckless entry into more complexity. Decisions don’t simplify into an esthetic purity; they propagate into a promiscuous orgy of chaos.

I know the language is extreme. I also know most people are not foolish enough to start graduate schools or attempt to translate Western trauma care into a context that does not need the patronization of another Western approach to African issues. Everything about the task feels daunting. In most African languages there are not words to address trauma based suffering and shame. There is a dearth of expressions to account for the suffering that comes as a result of being a victim of injustice, especially with regard to one’s inner world. Is that a failure or part of the culture’s wisdom? Even the answer to that question reveals bias and sets up a series of choices that in turn takes us to a different place.

It would be easier simply to not go; or go and teach what we offer here and let the Ethiopians and East Africans do the translation. It is easier to plunge ahead and not think or be overwhelmed by the complexity and quit.

Each decision is made in the presence of a veil that is lifted only once one begins the journey–and by then it is usually too late to turn back or change engines mid-flight. No wonder we are called to count the cost, but every effort to do so only manages to expose the weight is greater than we can comprehend. Counting the cost must be more than code for–there is no way to know–but at least you tried.

In my soul I knew the moment would come. Our team was asked if we wanted to participate in a research study to interview and learn from a dozen African leaders who were already involved in trauma care. We had taught this same group 3 years earlier and the study would allow us to see what concepts translated and were helpful and what did not. The question came as quietly as soft bird twill on a cool spring wind. Alluring, easy, seductive. Thankfully we have no money. Thankfully there is no time. We are exhausted and there is so much that needs to be done just to keep our little boat afloat.

Faces, sounds, piercing, haunting prayer, hands on my head, the movement of the room and the tears in Wondi’s eyes, the thousands of women, boys, and girls lining the streets feet from our hotel, the injera.

The value in counting the concatenated costs, known and unknown, is that it invites us to move as close as we can to the rumbling and rumination of desire deposited in us by the Spirit. I don’t know if I heard God. I can’t at the moment say Jesus told me what to do. I can say the exhaustion, fear, resourcelessness did not dissipate the desire; it only intensified it.

We said yes–but only yes for now, only for the research, only for this one trip. We need to know our limits. We need to be realistic. We need to count the cost. We need to say yes. Yes to giving up; yes to giving over. Yes.

How holy is this night,
when wickedness is put to flight,
and sin is washed away.
It restores innocence to the fallen,
and joy to those who mourn.
It casts out pride and hatred,
and brings peace and concord.

Jesus rose from the dead in the “dead of night” (sweet irony!). That’s why Mary Magdalene, arriving at the tomb “while it was still dark” (John 20:1), found the stone already rolled away. And so, Christians of the ancient church started their Easter service on Saturday night, and didn’t finish until the sun rose on Sunday.

Taking their bearings from ancient practice, Christians in the liturgical tradition recapture the wonder of what they call Great Saturday. In anticipation of the joy of Easter morning, they keep Vigil on Saturday night. During the Saturday night service, they light the Paschal Candle (which had been removed from the sanctuary before the Ash Wednesday service), read large blocks of Scripture that rehearse God’s redemptive plan, baptize new believers, reaffirm their own baptisms, and share a celebratory Eucharist. Some churches include “The Great Noise”: a very, very loud Easter acclamation involving church bells, organ, and informal noisemakers (“More cowbell!”).

This Lent, I have been memorizing and meditating on the “Exsultet,” the mid-1st millennium-chant that opens the Saturday night Easter Vigil service. I’ve found the chant exhilarating, because it reminds me of how many ways Christ’s death and resurrection impact us.

How holy is this night, when wickedness is put to flight, and sin is washed away. The ancient church’s instinct was to take the Exodus as the central motif for Easter. Christ’s resurrection destroys our enemies – sin and Satan and death – in the same way the collapsing walls of water demolished Pharaoh’s army. Christ’s resurrection means we pass through judging waters on dry ground; and the waters close behind us, washing away all guilt and shame, all “consciousness of sin” (Heb 10:2).

It restores innocence to the fallen… Imagine three of the “fallen women” of Jesus’ ministry: the woman at the well in John 4, the woman who washes his feet in Luke 7, and Mary Magdalene (contrary to tradition, not necessarily a “working woman” – simply, according to Luke 8:2, possessed by seven demons; which to me, is “fallen” enough). No wonder that on Easter morning, the Magdalene wanted to embrace the One who had gone into Hell to silence those demons forever (John 20:17). Imagine how tangled were the relationships of the woman at the well (“you’ve had five men, and the man you have now is not your own”) – we’re spared the details. We don’t know how much got untangled in this life. We do know Jesus gave her boldness to go and bid her neighbors to come and consider Who he had shown himself to be to her. Like the woman of Luke 7, she has been forgiven much, and thus loves much (Luke 7:47). Part of the gift his resurrection secures is the restoration of purity.

… and joy to those who mourn. My 91-year old mother is increasingly senescent. There’s lots of “sundowning,” with weeping and regret. The sad thing is that it’s been a remarkable life – one of joy and service and fulfillment, and of faith in Christ and hope of resurrection. Her slow demise and recurrent unhappiness puts me in mind of so many traps of joylessness: bitter divorces, marital infidelity, wayward children, gossip’s fruit, schedule stress, substance abuse, church infighting. Jesus’ resurrection means gloom and sin and sorrow do not win – senescence is but temporary, bitterness will give way to dancing, and earth’s shackles will yield to a “new earth’s” freedom. There’s good news for my mom and for the rest of us: “Behold, I make all things new” (Rev 21:5). Because Jesus rose and now reigns and will one day return, every tear will be washed away (Rev 21:4). The curse of the Garden’s tree of the knowledge of good and evil will be lifted (22:3; see Gen 3:17), and we will have access to the tree of life, with its “leaves for the healing of nations” (Rev 22:2; see Gen 2:9; 3:24).

Deep down, my mom knows that. Every day we read Psalm 23 together, and no matter how bad the day’s funk has been, she slows down and says with emphasis: “Surely goodness and mercy will follow me AAALLL the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forEVER!”

It casts out pride and hatred and brings peace and concord. The voices in a campaign season are self-righteous and pugnacious and vitriolic. Would that theological discourse and church government – from the blogosphere to classrooms, and from pulpits to elder meetings – did not ape the pride and pretense of secular politics. How blessed, by contrast, to be reminded that Christ’s resurrection promises that a church built by the blood of martyrs and by the good news of peace will eventually kick Satan’s behind.

Exsultet! Rejoice! How wonderful and beyond all knowing is the mercy and loving-kindness of a God who makes all things right – who began the right-making at Jesus’ rising in the “dead of night,” is working it out in the now, and will bring it to perfect completion at his return when he inaugurates eternal day.

________________________________________

(The full text of the “Exsultet,” from which I’ve excerpted, is available via http://justus.anglican.org); full text with Gregorian notation is available via http://www.nku.edu)

“Aw, Steve, you don’t want me to blog for Pooped Pastors. Who cares what I have to say? … And I really have too much on my plate anyway. Get somebody else to do it, OK?”

That conversation, or variations on the theme, recurred several times over the last few years. (Steve seems to be under the illusion that I actually do have something to say, and the ability to articulate it. I’ve tried to disabuse him of this notion, but I’ve failed. Matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve ever won a single argument with him.) Finally, last October when Steve came down to preach at our church, I ran out of excuses and, in a moment of temporary insanity (after an evening of bar-hopping), gave in.

Fine. Steve – Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

A brief intro is in order, as I doubt many of you will know me. I am the pastor of Kendall Presbyterian in Miami. I’m married to Heidi – best wife I’ve ever had – father to Christy, Andrew, Allison Savannah and Charissa. And since there are no photos attached to our blogs, you should also know I’m by far the best-looking of all the bloggers.

Sort of like being the tallest of the Seven Dwarves ….

Now, on the slightly more serious side: I got to know Steve when he hired me to be his youth pastor at Key Biscayne Presbyterian back in 1984. We worked together almost seven years, and during that time I learned a lot of very valuable lessons about preaching, pastoring, leadership, life in the church and life in general. Those of you who know Steve, and I assume that’s most of you or you wouldn’t be reading this, can maybe imagine how invaluable that seven-year period has been for me.

(Those of you who do know me may well be wondering: Then why aren’t you better at all those things? A fair question. My best response is: Just imagine how much worse I’d be if it wasn’t for Steve’s mentoring influence on me.)

Now, I could relate a ton of events and episodes, conversations and communications of that seven-year “apprenticeship,” things that have stayed with me over the years, and you might enjoy reading about them. But this really isn’t just a stroll down Memory Lane, nor an attempt to convince Steve he should’ve listened to me this one time.

You know he’s cringing right now, don’t you?

No, keeping in mind I’m writing primarily to fellow pastors, I want to relate one seemingly pretty insignificant conversation that happened early on in my time at Key Biscayne Presbyterian.

One Saturday, after working in my office in the morning I had gone back to my apartment for lunch. I called back to the church office looking for my buddy and co-worker Jary Reed, our children’s ministry director. (This was in the late Paleozoic Era before we were all born with cell phones.) Steve answered the phone, as he liked to do on Saturdays just to shake people up who weren’t expecting The Voice to answer. I asked if Jary was in his office. Steve put me on hold, buzzed Jary’s extension; no answer. Steve picked me back up and said Jary wasn’t in his office.

I said OK, he must be in the Youth Room. The Youth Room was on the second floor of our CE building … about as far from the Admin building as it could be and still be on the same property. There was no intercom system. There was also no elevator.

So, before I could say it was no problem, I would just go find Jary when I got back to the office, Steve said:

“You want me to go get him for you?”

This was not something I expected, the Boss Man asking the lowly New Youth Guy if he wanted him to go find the even lowlier Children’s Guy all the way up in the (lowly) Youth Room.

I came to the church after serving five years with Ft. Lauderdale Youth for Christ. I wasn’t totally sure what to expect when working with Steve, but I figured if it was too bad I could always go back. In my role with YFC I had met most of the evangelical pastors in Ft. Lauderdale and many in Miami. I had been privileged to serve on the steering committee of the Billy Graham Crusade in Ft. Lauderdale and had therefore been in meetings with most of the movers and shakers in South Florida churches.

I tried to imagine some of them giving me the same response – “You want me to go get him for you?” – and somehow, I just couldn’t see most of those other Big Guns offering to do that.

• “I’ll tell him you called,” sure.

• “If I see him I’ll let him know you’re looking for him,” no problem.

• Possibly even, “You interrupted my valuable study time to ask me that?”

All you youth pastors out there, and recovering youth pastors as well – you know exactly what I mean. But to actually offer to get up from the chair, leave the inner sanctum and go where pastors fear to tread … this I did not expect. I mean, what did he think he was, a servant or something?

And that, brothers and sisters, is what I want to say in this, my first – and quite possibly only – Pooped Pastors blog. We try hard to preach great sermons. We strive to be strong, positive, godly leaders. We want to help our churches become healthy, grow, and make disciples. I want to do all those things, too.

What I want to remind all of us, this blogger included, is that sometimes it is in the smallest, seemingly most incidental things – a word, an act, an offer of servanthood – that we may make an indelible impact. I really try to remember not so much just Steve’s example, but the way he reminded me of Jesus’ words and example:

Mark 10:42-45: 42 Calling them to Himself, Jesus said to them, “You know that those who are recognized as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them; and their great men exercise authority over them. 43 But it is not this way among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant; 44 and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be slave of all. 45 For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many.”

So, brothers and sisters, I’ve enjoyed writing my first and likely last blog here at Pooped Pastors. If I have impressed upon you the importance of remembering that we are servant leaders, that we follow One who did not regard equality with God something to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, I am well pleased.

And Steve – I did try to tell you.

Kent Keller

12 I thank him who has given me strength, Christ Jesus our Lord, because he judged me faithful, appointing me to his service, 13 though formerly I was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent. But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, 14 and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.

I Timothy 1:12-14

Ok so I was attending/speaking at the Man in the Mirror Fuel Conference recently here in Orlando. I was to do a seminar right after lunch for some of the most committed to men’s discipleship guys you’ll find in the country. My topic: The Holy Alliance between Men’s Discipleship and Church Planting. I’m on the Board of Man in the Mirror and speak for them. I was a church planter. We started our church with a focus on discipling men. This is an area I know something about and am glad for the first time to present this stuff. And I’m supposed to be somewhat dignified about it all.

Lunch is over, the seminar is about to begin and my handouts are in my truck. Ah…I run out down the stairs and out the front of the swanky hotel and head to my truck. It had just rained. I jog a lot, but not in my cowboy boots which I had on. In a millisecond my boot slipped out from under me and I’m headed to the pavement, fast. Old training in Aikido kicked in. The only thing I really learned was how to roll and so I rolled. After hitting really hard, this getting older body popped back up like a cat, albeit an older cat. My first thought, I kid you not: Was anybody looking? Did any body see me bring shame on myself? Not that I could see. Whew. Second thought: If my wife and kids could have been there, they would have wet their pants laughing. That’s the way our clan rolls. If Steve Brown had seen me, I would have been a sermon illustration within 24 hours on national radio.

Shaking with adrenaline, straightening out my left knee (and knowing it’s bleeding underneath my jeans), I grab my red bandana and try and stop the bleeding on my pinky while I head to the truck to get my notes. Accomplished. I head back inside & go and start the seminar. It goes quite well actually, though the whole time I’m holding my bandana on my hand and the bleeding won’t stop. Until the second the seminar is over, then it stops.

Nobody asked me about the bandana, but when was the last time a seminar speaker holds one in his hand the entire time he or she speaks? More than that, I didn’t say a thing about the fall. Why? I’m allergic to shame and anything that brings it on me. I’ll cover up shame as fast as you’ll put out a fire that flares up in a trash basket in your home. Oh, in addition, I’m a pro. Been at this speaking thing for a long time. We pastors are pros, and learn how to lead, speak and counsel under great personal pain of our own. If you don’t, you don’t survive. Shame, ego, endurance. My trifecta of posing.

The passage above in Timothy reminds me that I’m saved by grace, and minister by grace and don’t have to play any religious games. I still do. I suppose it would have been alright to spill my guts to the guys about my…spill…but I just didn’t want to do it. Too much at stake.

But by the next day, Sunday, preaching at my home church where I don’t have to play games, I spilled the beans.

Ah, it’s good when there are some places where you don’t have to play games. No posing. I really hope your church is like mine, but even if it’s not you can takes steps to move it in that direction, but remembering like I forgot at the conference, to make sure that grace is the beginning, middle and end of all we do.

I love you guys…glad to be in the battle with you!…even if we are from time to time, bruised and bleeding…literally or figuratively!

You Take it to Heart,

Pete Alwinson

The law offends us because it tells us what to do–and we hate anyone telling us what to do, most of the time. But, ironically, grace offends us even more because it tells us that there’s nothing we can do, that everything has already been done. And if there’s something we hate more than being told what to do, it’s being told that we can’t do anything, that we can’t earn anything–that we’re helpless, weak, and needy.

The law, at least, assures us that we determine our own destiny.

The law does promise life to me,
If my obedience perfect be. (Ralph Erskine)

This we understand. And we like it. We like it because we maintain control–the outcome of our life remains in our hands. Give me three steps to a happy marriage and I can guarantee myself a happy marriage if I follow the three steps. If we can do certain things, meet certain standards (whether God’s, my own, my parents, my spouse’s, society’s, whatever) and become a certain way, we’ll make it. Law seems safe because “it breeds a sense of manageability.” It keeps life formulaic and predictable. It keeps earning-power in our camp.

The logic of law makes sense.

The logic of grace, on the other hand, doesn’t.

Grace is thickly counter-intuitive. It feels risky and unfair. It turns everything that makes sense to us upside-down. Like Job’s friends, we naturally conclude that good people get good stuff and bad people get bad stuff. The idea that bad people get good stuff seems irrational and wrongheaded on every level. It offends our deepest sense of justice and rightness.

Grace is not rational…The gospel of grace throws our glory train off its tracks. Instead of calculating, mastering, and determining, we find ourselves completely helpless, left with no option but to fall into the everlasting arms of the God who could consume us in his wrath but instead embraces us in his Son. (Mike Horton)

So, it doesn’t surprise me at all when I hear people react to grace with suspicion and doubt. It doesn’t surprise me that when people talk about grace, I hear lots of “buts and brakes”, conditions and qualifications. That’s just the flesh fighting for its life, after all. As Walter Marshall says in his book The Gospel Mystery of Sanctification, “By nature, you are completely addicted to a legal method of salvation. Even after you become a Christian by believing the Gospel, your heart is still addicted to salvation by works…You find it hard to believe that you should get any blessing before you work for it.”

Because we are natural born do-it-yourselfers–God-wannabes–(and have been since Genesis 3), the vitriol reaction to unconditional grace is understandable. Grace generates panic because it wrestles both control and glory out of our hands. This means that the part of you that gets angry and upset and mean and defensive and slanderous and critical and skeptical and feisty when you hear about grace is the very part of you that needs to be reckoned dead. That’s where mortification begins–it begins with that part of us that hates grace.

But while I’m not surprised when I hear venomous rejoinders to grace (the flesh is always resistant to “It is finished”), I am saddened when the very pack of people that God has unconditionally saved and continues to sustain by his free grace are the very ones who push back most violently against it. Some professing Christians sound like ungrateful children who can’t stop biting the very hand that feeds them. It amazes me that you will hear great concern from inside the church about “too much grace” but rarely will you ever hear great concern from inside the church about “too many rules.” Why? Because we are by nature glory-hoarding, self-centered control freaks. That’s why.

It’s high time for the church to honor God by embracing sola gratia anew–the “high-octane grace that takes our conscience by the scruff of the neck and breathes new life into us with a pardon so scandalous that we cannot help but be changed…For many of us the time has come to abandon once and for all our play-it-safe, toe-dabbling Christianity and dive in” (Dane Ortlund). It is time, as Robert Farrar Capon put it, to get drunk on grace. Two hundred-proof, defiant grace.

It’s scandalous and scary, unnatural and undomesticated…but it’s the only thing that can set us free and light the church on fire.

Remember that the Beatitudes are not attitudes which we can create ourselves. They are not a new “10 commandments” or laws. They are the inner contentment and joy that results from a transformational personal relationship with Jesus Christ. They are the fruit of the spirit expressed in different words and the gifts of the kingdom of God enjoyed now and evermore.

Also remember the important principle that “scripture interprets scripture.” That is why I use so many texts which we refer to as “cross references.”

Mt 5:3 NIV “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Mt 5:3 AMPLIFIED “Blessed (happy, to be envied, and spiritually prosperous— with life-joy and satisfaction in God’s favor and salvation, regardless of their outward conditions) are the poor in spirit (the humble, who rate themselves insignificant), for theirs is the kingdom of heaven!”

To be “blessed” (blest) is to be the recipient of God’s generous provision.

To be “blessed” (bles’ id) is to be “happy, to be envied, and spiritually prosperous— with life-joy and satisfaction in God’s favor and salvation, regardless of their outward conditions.”

Poor in Spirit

To be “poor in spirit” is to be spiritually poverty stricken, powerless to enrich, unable to rescue one’s self

Martin Lloyd-Jones

• Poor in spirit is the fundamental, foundational characteristic of a Christian of a member of the kingdom of heaven
• Poor in spirit is an emptying of before there can be a filling of…note words of Jesus in Revelation

Rev 3:14-17 “To the angel of the church in Laodicea write: These are the words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the ruler of God’s creation. 15 I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! 16 So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth. 17 You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.”

Matthew Henry

• Conviction precedes conversion
• The world’s emphasis is on self-reliance, self-confidence, and self-expression
• The people of this world compare themselves to one another, while the Beatitudes would have us compare ourselves to God.
• “Poor in spirit” is not:
  • popular
  • a personality type
  • poor me
  • false humility
  • groveling
• “Poor in spirit” is:
  • uncharacteristic
  • unconcerned about the world’s measure of things
  • being unable and accepting of the inability
  • a complete absence of pride, of self-assurance and of self-reliance
  • we look to God in utter and complete submission and dependence upon Him and His grace and mercy.
  • described for us in Philippians 2

Phil 2:1-8 “If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, 2 then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. 3 Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. 4 Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. 5 Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: 6 Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, 7 but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. 8 And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross!”

Matthew Henry

I. The poor in spirit are happy, Matt. 5:3. There is a poor-spiritedness that is so far from making men blessed that it is a sin and a snare—cowardice and base fear, and a willing subjection to the lusts of men. But this poverty of spirit is a gracious disposition of soul, by which we are emptied of self, in order to our being filled with Jesus Christ. To be poor in spirit is, 1. To be contentedly poor, willing to be emptied of worldly wealth, if God orders that to be our lot; to bring our mind to our condition, when it is a low condition. Many are poor in the world, but high in spirit, poor and proud, murmuring and complaining, and blaming their lot, but we must accommodate ourselves to our poverty, must know how to be abased, Phil. 4:12. Acknowledging the wisdom of God in appointing us to poverty, we must be easy in it, patiently bear the inconveniences of it, be thankful for what we have, and make the best of that which is. It is to sit loose to all worldly wealth, and not set our hearts upon it, but cheerfully to bear losses and disappointments which may befall us in the most prosperous state. It is not, in pride or pretence, to make ourselves poor, by throwing away what God has given us, especially as those in the church of Rome, who vow poverty, and yet engross the wealth of the nations; but if we be rich in the world we must be poor in spirit, that is, we must condescend to the poor and sympathize with them, as being touched with the feeling of their infirmities; we must expect and prepare for poverty; must not inordinately fear or shun it, but must bid it welcome, especially when it comes upon us for keeping a good conscience, Heb. 10:34. Job was poor in spirit, when he blessed God in taking away, as well as giving. 2. It is to be humble and lowly in our own eyes. To be poor in spirit, is to think meanly of ourselves, of what we are, and have, and do; the poor are often taken in the Old Testament for the humble and self-denying, as opposed to those that are at ease, and the proud; it is to be as little children in our opinion of ourselves, weak, foolish, and insignificant, Matt. 18:4; 19:14. Laodicea was poor in spirituals, wretchedly and miserably poor, and yet rich in spirit, so well increased with goods, as to have need of nothing, Rev. 3:17. On the other hand, Paul was rich in spirituals, excelling most in gifts and graces, and yet poor in spirit, the least of the apostles, less than the least of all saints, and nothing in his own account. It is to look with a holy contempt upon ourselves, to value others and undervalue ourselves in comparison of them. It is to be willing to make ourselves cheap, and mean, and little, to do good; to become all things to all men. It is to acknowledge that God is great, and we are mean; that he is holy and we are sinful; that he is all and we are nothing, less than nothing, worse than nothing; and to humble ourselves before him, and under his mighty hand. 3. It is to come off from all confidence in our own righteousness and strength, that we may depend only upon the merit of Christ for our justification, and the spirit and grace of Christ for our sanctification. That broken and contrite spirit with which the publican cried for mercy to a poor sinner, is that poverty of spirit. We must call ourselves poor, because always in want of God’s grace, always begging at God’s door, always hanging on in his house.

Now, (1.) This poverty in spirit is put first among the Christian graces. The philosophers did not reckon humility among their moral virtues, but Christ puts it first. Self-denial is the first lesson to be learned in his school, and poverty of spirit entitled to the first beatitude. The foundation of all other graces is laid in humility. Those who would build high must begin low; and it is an excellent preparative for the entrance of gospel-grace into the soul; it fits the soil to receive the seed. Those who are weary and heavy laden, are the poor in spirit, and they shall find rest with Christ.

(2.) They are blessed. Now they are so, in this world. God looks graciously upon them. They are his little ones, and have their angels. To them he gives more grace; they live the most comfortable lives, and are easy to themselves and all about them, and nothing comes amiss to them; while high spirits are always uneasy.

Isa 53:4-6 “Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted. 5 But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. I6 We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.”

Ro 3:10-12 “As it is written: ‘There is no one righteous, not even one; 11 there is no one who understands, no one who seeks God. 12 All have turned away, they have together become worthless; there is no one who does good, not even one.’”

Ps 25:16-18 “Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted. 17 The troubles of my heart have multiplied; free me from my anguish. 18 Look upon my affliction and my distress and take away all my sins.”

Ps 51:16-17 “You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. 17 The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.”

Ro 5:6-11 “You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. 7 Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. 8 But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. 9 Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him! 10 For if, when we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! 11 Not only is this so, but we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.”

Kingdom of Heaven

Matthew Henry

(3.) Theirs is the kingdom of heaven. The kingdom of grace is composed of such; they only are fit to be members of Christ’s church, which is called the congregation of the poor (Ps. 74:19); the kingdom of glory is prepared for them. Those who thus humble themselves, and comply with God when he humbles them, shall be thus exalted. The great, high spirits go away with the glory of the kingdoms of the earth; but the humble, mild, and yielding souls obtain the glory of the kingdom of heaven. We are ready to think concerning those who are rich, and do good with their riches, that, no doubt, theirs is the kingdom of heaven; for they can thus lay up in store a good security for the time to come; but what shall the poor do, who have not wherewithal to do good? Why, the same happiness is promised to those who are contentedly poor, as to those who are usefully rich. If I am not able to spend cheerfully for his sake, if I can but want cheerfully for his sake, even that shall be recompensed. And do not we serve a good master then?

The “kingdom of heaven” (see comment on 3:2) belongs to such people; it is they who enjoy Messiah’s reign and his blessings. They joyfully accept his rule and participate in the life of the kingdom (7:14). While the rewards of vv. 4-9 are future (“they will be comforted,” “will inherit,” etc.), the first and last are present (“for theirs is the kingdom of heaven”). Yet one must not make too much of this, for the present tense can function as a future; and the future tense can emphasize certainty. There is little doubt that here the kingdom idea is primarily future, made explicit in v.12. However, though the full blessedness of those described in these beatitudes awaits the consummated kingdom, they already share in the kingdom’s blessedness so far as it has been inaugurated (see comment on 4:17).

Eph 1:1-14 “Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, To the saints in Ephesus, the faithful in Christ Jesus: 2 Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. 3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. 4 For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love 5 he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— 6 to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. 7 In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace 8 that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. 9 And he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, 10 to be put into effect when the times will have reached their fulfillment—to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ. 11 In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, 12 in order that we, who were the first to hope in Christ, might be for the praise of his glory. 13 And you also were included in Christ when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation. Having believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, 14 who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession—to the praise of his glory.”

Col 1:10-14 “And we pray this in order that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and may please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, 11 being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, and joyfully 12 giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the kingdom of light. 13 For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, 14 in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.”

1Pe 1:1-9 “Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, To God’s elect, strangers in the world, scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia, 2 who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and sprinkling by his blood: Grace and peace be yours in abundance. 3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4 and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you, 5 who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 6 In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 7 These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. 8 Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, 9 for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

THE TWELVE STEPS OF ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS

1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to
sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God, as we understood Him. [and we understand Him to be the God of scripture and history…Father, Son, and Holy Spirit]

We cannot truly look at Jesus without feeling our absolute poverty
and His abundant provision.

We’ve been exploring Archibald Hart’s thoughts on the Four Risk factors of ministry life from an article he published, “Time To Get A Life”. The risk factors he had found peculiar to pastors involve Aloneness, Arrogance, Addiction and Adultery.

Hart notes, “After awhile, the pleasure center in the brain that controls all of this [ministry success or activity] can no longer be satisfied with ordinary achievements, so this risk develops: Adultery. You don’t see this spoken of so much in the secular world, because adultery is so commonplace and doesn’t mean anything. But in our Christian subculture, . . . pastors can no longer derive any pleasure from anything they are doing. The only thing left is the sexual impropriety. I’ve seen sexual impropriety in two categories of pastors: at one end, those who have struggled and failed a lot, who then turn to sexual immorality to make them feel better and, at the highly successful end of the spectrum, those for whom great success no longer brings pleasure. At both those ends, there is a risk of which pastors need to be aware, and take measures to protect themselves. And I’m not talking about pastors who are not living godly lives, who aren’t sincere in their spirituality!”

Sam was working on his second church-planting project. He was married with a family and the work was going fairly successfully. He told me his sad story one day over lunch. He started playing on the web (surfing sites)…then met someone in a chat room. The long and short of his saga was that he finally believed the lie being whispered in his ear… “ You are not a very good Christian or a good pastor; this isn’t real, God is withholding something better from you; your wife is not enough…blah, blah, lie, lie, blah”. One day, that one morning he did get up and say, today’s the day. He rented a U-Haul, packed his stuff, sat his wife and kids down and said, “I am leaving. I can’t do this anymore.” His wife was shocked, his kids devastated. He called the church leadership team as he pulled out of town. Tears filled my eyes as he related to me his story.

“The lips of an adulteress drip honey and her words are smooth; but in the end she is bitter as vinegar, sharp as a double bladed knife. Her feet go down to death; her steps lead straight to the grave. At the window of my house I looked out and noticed a man who lacked judgment. He was surfing places on the web that were dangerous, getting close the edge, during the night when his wife was asleep. On came a flashing notice, or an email invitation from a woman dressed provocatively, with obvious intentions. She took hold of him and invited him in to look around and enjoy himself. She said, ‘Come, let’s drink deep of love till morning; let’s enjoy ourselves with love! No one will ever know. No one will have to find out.’ With persuasive words she led him astray; she seduced him with her smooth talk and pretty looks. At once he followed her like an ox going to the slaughter, like a deer in the sights of the hunter, till the arrow pierces his liver…little knowing it will cost him his life . . . Listen to me; pay attention. Do not let your heart turn to her ways or stray into her paths. Many are the victims she has brought down; her house is a highway to death!” (Tom’s loose paraphrase of Proverbs 6 & 7).

What is the answer? Most of the messages I heard on this subject are more or less rules based. Set up better accountability and “Don’t look at pictures of naked people” type exhortations. The Gospel of grace is better than that folks.

Thomas Chalmers wrote an article, The Expulsive Power of a Greater Affection”.

“It is thus that the boy ceases at length to be a slave of his appetite, but it is because a more mature taste has brought it into subordination. The youth ceases to idolize sensual pleasure, but it is because the idol of wealth has gotten the ascendancy. Even the love of money can cease to have mastery over the heart because it is drawn into the whirl of [ideology] and now he is lorded over by a love of power. But there is not one of these transformations in which the heart is left without an object. Its desire for one particular object is conquered—but its desire to have some object is unconquerable. The object of the gospel is both to pacify the sinner’s conscience and to purify the heart, and it is of importance to observe that what mars the one of these objects mars the other also. The best way of casting out an impure affection is to admit a pure one…the only way to dispossess the heart of an old affection is by the expulsive power of a new one… it is only when admitted into the number of god’s children through faith in Jesus Christ, that the spirit of adoption is poured out on us– it is then that the heart…is delivered from the tyranny of its former desires…” (Thomas Chalmers 1830).

If the gospel doesn’t take your breath away something else will.

Sam concluded our lunch with the rest of his story. “After several months I realized that I had been a miserable Christian but I was a worse pagan”. I called my wife and asked her if I could come home and begin the work of restoration. She said yes. Christ was the beauty his heart was really seeking and the joy his inner being wanted.

Everything about death is wrong. Everything. It is wrong even when an aged body that has lived well and suffered enormously dies; even when it is supposedly best to let go of this life—death is wrong. But it strikes the heart, as obscene, a mockery of all that is good and full of hope to see the body of a child dead.

On each side of the communion table was a picture of Brave. In one photo his grieving mother and father held their beautiful, perfect boy. On the other side, his body shot from the angle of the head downwards was as if looking at a slumbering doll.

We sat near the back of the church and I neither attempted to look around, nor could I stare exclusively at my feet. I occasionally took in both photos and the waiting bear. Each time I looked at the family portrait, I started to cry; when I looked at his sleeping body I wanted to rage. I felt like a metronome of grief and blasphemy.

I love Andrew; I only know Christy from a few conversations. I like many had anticipated the immensity of goodness this young couple would soon know. My last words to Andrew about the coming birth were to remind him that Brave was about to ruin his life and he would never, excepting a few, regret the ruin because the joy he would know in being a father and allowing his son to father him through Jesus would make every loss and heartache worth infinitely more than the suffering.

I had no idea how deep was the truth and lie of what I said. Is his death worth the agony and loss they will suffer for a lifetime? Is the privilege of being the one to carry him and watch him grow in the womb that became his tomb infinitely worth more than the suffering they will bear? To say, yes, is not mine to write. To say it is possible is only to speak of the remarkable hearts of his mother and father. It is possible that in a year, or a decade, their loss will be part of the scars they come to treasure as an emblem of the day they will be introduced and restored to their son.

I only know how they grieved and spoke of their son. The service lasted over two hours. I have never been in an event where I did not know if I could bear one more minute; even more, I did not know how I could ever endure it’s ending. The words spoken by their pastors, friends and family, their doula, and the pastor who married them held little hope. They spoke for us all grief, confusion, anger, and above all the agony we felt for Christy and Andrew. They also spoke of the immense beauty of Brave and the courage of Andrew and Christie to hold, love, and cherish their little boy. There were moments in the accounting of his birth and the time of his advent when laughter incisively creased the sorrow—their humanity was not merely heroic, it was life giving.

Mom and Dad sat on the floor below their son’s casket and we each, row by row, came to the front to place a flower on his casket and kneel to hold and touch his mother and father. Their faces were raw with exhaustion and silhouetted in sorrow. They wept, at times wailed. What was spoken over them and for them, for us, was a sorrow that didn’t deny resurrection, nor did it offer a hope to assuage the part of us that simply can’t bear hearing the body wail.

The resurrection is the hope that allows our heart to bear a portion of the wail, courageously enough not to mitigate the horror, nor deny the hideous wrong of death. It is what I understand it to mean that we do not grieve as unbelievers do. Believing grief is meant to be deeper and angrier and more full of confusion than unbelieving sorrow. We must engage God who can and will give comfort; and could also have healed the heart of their son. How do we go to a God who offers comfort when the same God could have enabled the Bauman’s to escape the current need if only death had been swallowed by life?

At the end of the service, Christy and Andrew spoke. It may have been the bravest public utterances I have ever heard. Christy began by saying, “In the last 3 days, we have aged 20 years.” We sat in awe as they each spoke of their love for their son and their cry to their community to not forget Brave. Neither offered us relief from the anguish, except in their goodness to grieve, full faced, raw, and unashamed. It was their stark and utter human beauty that made the loss not merely deep, but unbearable. The beauty and horror of their agony was too compelling to escape.

And what I found myself saying, again and again, then and today: What if this is all a carefully staged fable? What if nothing of this is true? And at one level, even more disconcerting, what if the gospel is truer than I can comprehend; what if it is truer than truth?

Soon after the advent of Jesus his mother and father fled to Egypt to escape the murderous envy of Herod. His soldiers had been told to take the life of any male child two years or younger. Mothers all over Bethlehem held the bodies of their sons and wailed. Did the story happen just as it is told? I believe it did. I heard the sound of a single mother wailing to know it is true. I know it now. I know how my body heaves and the limbic system floods my brain with both aversion and bonding in the presence of beautiful boy’s death face.

Is it all true or a mere fable? Am I willing to bet my death and far more my life on a savior being born in Bethlehem and the advent of a new kingdom that seems palsied and powerless before such loss? This is what I believe. I saw a kind of humanity and goodness in the wailing that is truer to life than the pleasantness I encounter in most religious settings. I saw a beauty and care for life in the honor that baby boy received in talking about his face, hands, and the dreams of his mom and dad than I see at the height of celebrations of graduation or other accolades of honor.

I don’t know how they will ever be able to enter another advent season and function in the flurry of holiday busyness and rush to get a last minute gift. But I know this—the agony of those mothers and fathers who lost a son to the cruelty of death will never be lost to them. And the hope that the Christ-child will return and ride a white steed to introduce them to their man-child Brave, will mark them each Christmas until the day they die.

I can’t hold their grief as if it is my own. I will not remember each Christmas in the same way as they will and as those who walked each step of this Via Dolorosa of their suffering. But in remembering his death, I am again called to weep and to cry out in desire, no, desperation—May it all be true, Prince of Peace, turn our wailing one day into joy. Make my heart as human and beautiful as Brave’s mother and father. Turn our broken hearts to you. Turn our hope to your risen Presence. Tell us again the story of your birth, death, resurrection, and ascension and in the midst of grief bring us the scandalous joy that only your loyal love can provide. We confess you alone are our life and story.