Category: Faith (Page 20 of 24)

The Strong Branch

January 28, 2010 / Allan / 0 Comments

You don’t have to wait for every single one of your doubts and fears to go away before you commit your life to Christ. You don’t have to be “strong in the faith” before you give yourself to God. It’s not the depth of your faith or the purity of your heart that saves you. It’s God’s work through Christ. Period.

Just trust him.

I love Timothy Keller’s illustration in his excellent book, The Reason for God:

Imagine you are on a high cliff and you lose your footing and begin to fall. Just beside you as you fall is a branch sticking out of the very edge of the cliff. It is your only hope and it is more than strong enough to support your weight. How can it save you? If your mind is filled with intellectual certainty that the branch can support you, but you don’t actually reach out and grab it, you are lost. If you mind is instead filled with doubts and uncertainty that the branch can hold you, but you reach out and grab it anyway, you will be saved. Why? It is not the strength of your faith but the object of your faith that actually saves you. Strong faith in a weak branch is fatally inferior to weak faith in a strong branch.

Trust him. Trust him with everything. Give him your doubts. Give him your fears. Admit them up front. It’s OK. Our God is big enough and strong enough to handle that, too. Just trust him. Reach out and grab him.

I’ve always believed in Jesus. But, I must confess, my heart’s most fundamental trust was usually somewhere else. My trust was usually in my own competency and decency. Now I see clearly how messed up that is. I’m not that good. I’m not that competent. I’m not that decent.

I’m only saved by Jesus.

Give everything to him. Transfer all of your trust to him. God will receive you and accept you, not for anything you’ve done or can possibly do in the future, but because of what Christ has done and promises to do for you.

Peace,

Allan

God Was With ______.

January 19, 2010 / Allan / 1 Comment

Pete Gent, the wise-cracking wide receiver of the early Dallas Cowboys teams, once walked by a rookie, slumped over at his locker, studying Tom Landry‘s overly thick and complicated playbook. “Don’t bother reading it, kid,” Gent said. “Everybody gets killed in the end.”

Cynical. Funny. OK, brilliant!

In Andrew Lloyd Weber’s Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, the narrarator actually encourages Joseph while he’s in prison. He tells Joseph not to despair. Don’t give up. He says, “I’ve read the book and you come out on top!”

We don’t have that benefit. Our books aren’t finished yet. The chapters of our lives are written as we live them out every day. And nobody knows exactly what our endings will look like. But the call from our God is to run the race with endurance and faithfulness. Wherever we are. Whatever our circumstance. In great confidence that he is with us.

God is with you. In your place. In your situation. He’s right there with you. Joseph gets thrown into a pit and sold into slavery by his own brothers. Scripture says God was with Joseph. Joseph is made head over Potiphar’s house. The Bible says God was with Joseph. He’s thrown in prison by Potiphar’s wife. He’s rescued by a forgetful cupbearer. He’s put in charge of all of Egypt. And throughout the story we’re told that God was with Joseph. I’ve counted 27 times, through all the dramatic ups and downs of Joseph’s life, from Genesis 37 through Genesis 50, when it’s made clear that God was with Joseph.

The end of the story makes it crystal clear. It looks like Joseph is being made by Pharaoh. The king of Egypt gives Joseph his new office, his new status, his new robes, his power, his authority, his new name, his new wife. It all comes from Pharaoh. But from the standpoint of the biblical author — and in the view of Joseph himself — it all comes from God.

God sent Joseph. God was with Joseph. God raised up Joseph.

Joseph is not Pharaoh’s man. He’s God’s man. He’s not Pharaoh’s instrument of economic survival. He’s God instrument of salvation.

I don’t know how your story turns out, friend. I have no idea what you’re going through right now. But I do know God is with you.

“It is very sweet as life passes by, to be able to look back on dark and mysterious events, and to trace the hand of God where once we saw only the malice and cruelty of man.” ~F. B. Meyer

Peace,

Allan

Our Fathers' Religion

January 6, 2010 / Allan / 2 Comments

Most of us are terrified that one or more of our children will, someday, reject the Faith. We live in fear that our kids might wake up one day and reject our beliefs. They may, over a period of time, drift away from what we know and love and what we taught them to eventually have nothing in common with us religiously.

We’re scared of that, right? We all know people in our churches — we all have close friends — whose children no longer are involved in the Christian faith and are no longer active in a Christian Community. If not you, somebody on your pew is agonizing over that every day.

How about this? What if we taught our kids in unmistakable ways as they were growing up that my religion is not my religion? I received it from my parents, who received it from their parents, who received it from their parents. The Christian faith in my family is old and deep. It belongs to me because I inherited it from them and didn’t throw it away. I have held on to that trust for my own children and am passing it down to them from their ancestors.

S. M. Hutchens, a senior editor at Touchstone journal, writes in the June 2009 edition that he’s always attempted to instill in his children that theirs is not a private faith. They don’t have possession of a faith that belongs to one man or one family or even one denomination. It’s something “ancient and universal, something infinitely weightier and worthier of consideration” than any specifics or particulars I can give them from my personal heritage or tradition.

Early on, I wanted to teach them in whatever way I could that rejecting it would not be simply a matter of casting away the tastes or idiosyncrasies or opiates or methods of control of their immediate parents, but a belief about the nature of reality, and way of life harmonious therewith, attested by many very different people over many years and under a great variety of personal circumstances, whose faith and teaching flows in our veins just as their blood does.

While my children are free to choose or reject it, they were made to understand that what they choose to take as their own, or reject, is not simply their parents’ religion, but a faith much older, in which the significance of differences and faults of each of its holders, including those of the “denominations” to which they belonged, are relativized in the march of time so that the One Great Thing to be accepted or rejected from their parentage stands out in high relief, not as my religion, or even our family religion. but the Christian faith.

I’m three hours away from a time of study and prayer with a young couple and their son. The boy wants to be baptized. The parents couldn’t be more proud. It’s probably going to happen this Sunday. What a tremendous blessing to participate with God as he saves souls and robs hell. I’ll stress to this young man that he’s being joined to an eternal family now, a legacy that transcends time and space. By God’s grace, the love of Christ, and the power of the Holy Spirit, he’s being connected now to the story. He’s a vital part of the story. The story that’s been passed down from generation to generation for centuries.

It’s so much bigger than us. The Kingdom of God is so much bigger than me. Bigger than my family. Bigger than my particular faith tradition. Bigger than our peculiar practices and beliefs.

I wonder if our kids know that?

Peace,

Allan

Common to Man

December 15, 2009 / Allan / 2 Comments

“No temptation has seized you except what is common to man.” ~1 Corinthians 10:13

We live in an age of unparalleled developments in technology. We are subject now to an unprecedented and seemingly endless stream of information. We face new physical and emotional and mental diseases that were unheard of a century ago. Natural disasters and human warfare are on the rise, not the decline. And all of these things are adding to the amount of suffering in this world. It might be that human suffering is, today, occurring on a scale unmatched in the history of mankind.

Isn’t it reassuring to know that the temptations we face are nothing new?

External circumstances are different. Very different. But the spiritual dynamics of what we face as God’s children living in these circumstances remain unchanged. The natural inclination to say “my problems” or “our issues” or “this country” is/are different or worse than what anyone else has ever experienced is simply not accurate. The contemporary practice of blaming the way I am on God or my parents or our society or the devil is just not right, unless it also includes an honest acknowledgement of my own sinful nature.

Nothing has changed. Everything’s the same. We have always been tempted to depend on ourselves instead of God. We’ve always been tempted to trust ourselves and our own strength while putting our God and Savior on the backburner. Yes, we need our Father in heaven. But we don’t need him for everything. Yes, our God is important. But he’s not that important.

“God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.” ~1 Corinthians 10:13

I think sometimes we want to re-write the above verse to read, “…so that you don’t have to stand up under it any longer.” We’ll complain sometimes that God didn’t provide the “way out” because he didn’t deliver me from the troubling situation. That, of course, is just the opposite of what Paul wrote. It’s the opposite of what he intends. It’s the opposite of what God inspired. The “way out” isn’t the removal of the temptation. It’s not the removal of the situation or the circumstance in which you find yourself being tempted. The “way out” is the strength provided by the Spirit of God, the endurance and perseverence provided to stand strong and faithful under the pressure.

Look back at the times you’ve yielded to temptation. Last year. In the last hour. Who knows what would have happened if you had just hung on for 30-more seconds. If you had just stood strong and said ‘no’ to the temptation for just half-a-minute more, who knows if the temptation itself wouldn’t have just vanished. You don’t know how close you really were to that victory over Satan, to that tremendous boost of confidence that comes with defeating the devil and his schemes.

Be strong. Walk with your God always, faithful to the end. You’re not going through anything right now that’s not common to man. He knows. He endured the same things. And he will give you the power you need to stand up under it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Allright, I need your help. I’ve asked once, with no reply. I’ll try one more time:

Can anybody find an explanation or a reason the Dallas Cowboys are not sporting a 50th season patch on their uniforms this year? Have you read anything or heard anything about it? The team wore “Silver Season” patches in 1984 to celebrate their 25th year. In 1999 they donned 40th season emblems. They’ve honored Tom Landry with a fedora patch. They broke out a one-time stadium patch to inaugurate Jerry Wayne’s new monster in Arlington for that initial home game this year. They wear sponsor patches on their practice jerseys like some kind of little league rec team. Where’s the 50th season patch?

Eight other NFL franchises are recognizing their 50th seasons this year with a commemorative patch on their game uniforms: Bills, Broncos, Chiefs, Jets, Raiders, Chargers, and Oilers/Titans. I understand those are all old original AFL teams. And their patches all feature the old AFL logo. I just don’t understand a guy like Jerry Wayne who will do anything and everything to market his brand (see 3D disaster last Sunday) not designing a patch for the 50th.

Unless it has something to do with Cowboys history. Pre-Jerry Wayne history. And his reluctance to honor it. Or his desire to break from it. See, that can’t be right, either. I know it can’t. Surely the owner/GM understands it’s that very history of Murchison, Schramm, and Landry that makes his franchise as valuable as it is. Without Lilly and Meredith and Staubach and Dorsett, Jerry doesn’t even bother buying the Cowboys. He’s acknowledged that before.

But he builds this new stadium and he puts the 14 Ring of Honor names from the Schramm/Landry years on one side of the stadium and the three names from the current Jerry Wayne era on the other. Separate and apart. No Super Bowl banners have been hung in that new place yet. Where’s Emmitt’s all-time rushing champion banner?

Whoa. Sorry. I’m sidetracking, big time. I need to stop or I’ll be writing all day about the video board, the play clocks, the score board, the 3D, the roof, the kicker, the GM, and everything else that’s wrong. Back to the original question. Please, somebody help me out on this. What do we know about the 50th season patch?

Peace,

Allan

Thanksgiving for Roadblocks

November 30, 2009 / Allan / 1 Comment

“I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth…” ~Matthew 11:25

John the Baptist is the one who knows more about the coming Messiah than anyone else in the world. He’s been ordained by God, commissioned to prepare the way for the Holy One of Israel. And in Matthew 11, with John in jail and Herod acting more arrogantly and ruling more aggressively than ever, the desert proclaimer begins to doubt. He questions. From his prison cell, through his disciples, he asks Jesus, “So are you the one, or what?”

The people who know Jesus the best, his own family and friends, are ignoring him. The very ones he worshiped with and grew up with and played with and worked with in the villages of Capernaum and Bethsaida and Korazin are not accepting Jesus as Lord. They’re not repenting. They’re not turning to God as a result of Jesus’ teachings and miracles.

The situation in Jesus’ Kingdom life is not good. His mission. His calling from God. His whole purpose for coming to earth. Everything Jesus stood for and sacrificed for and was working for. None of it was going very well. He was running into dead ends and roadblocks. Barriers and hard hearts. Misunderstanding and indifference.

And this from the people who all should have known better.

If I’m Jesus — and, yes, I know I’m not; I’m reminded every day —I’m looking at John and these neighbors of mine and I’m maybe beginning to question all of it, too. Maybe I’d better do something different. Maybe they’re right. No crowds. Nobody’s lives are changing. I need to try something else. I need to be bigger and louder and brighter. We need bigger screens. More video. Maybe I should lose the tie. Tell more jokes. Be funnier. We should maybe set up a coffee shop or a book store. I should probably stop saying words like “sin” and “salvation” and “Zion.”

If I were Jesus, I’d look at the misunderstandings and indifference and say, “Why isn’t God helping me here? Why isn’t God doing anything? What’s the deal?”

Instead, Jesus prays thanksgiving to God.

“I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.”

Jesus knows that God’s way is to work his gracious will, to fulfill his marvelous plans for the universe through the childlike. The simple. The humble. Those who don’t think they are themselves some kind of gods. God works through people who understand very plainly their deep need for him.

The point is this: none of this throws Jesus off. The fact that John misunderstands what’s happening with Jesus doesn’t derail him. Jesus doesn’t slam on the brakes when the villagers reject him. None of this slows our Savior down.

Not so with us. We can get caught up in junk like this. I know I can. I know whole churches that can.

There are so many conditions in God’s Church and in this country and in this world that cause us to wring our hands and gnash our teeth. Oh, the Church is in trouble! Oh, people aren’t captivated by the Bible anymore! Postmoderns won’t ever believe the absolute truth of salvation in God through Christ! And we worry and get anxious and write articles and teach classes and rail against systems and complain about programs. And we get so worked up because God’s not working anymore.

But this prayer from Jesus puts everything in perspective. It brings us back to base.

The powerful and unstoppable energies of the Kingdom of God are always moving, always growing, always surging just beneath the surface. All around us. Huge rivers of prayer and faith and hope and praise and forgiveness and salvation and rescue and holiness flow right by us every day. In every single nook and cranny, hidden in the shadows, overlooked in the crowds, drowned out by the noise, are these humble infants. These little children.

So—thanksgiving.

Not just for the day and the weather and the beauty of nature. Not just for family and friends and food and clothes and shelter. Not just for good things in good circumstances. But, thanksgiving in — yes! — less than ideal situations. Thanksgiving offered in faith that our God is very much alive and active and working in mighty ways that we don’t always see.

Peace,

Allan

Feeling Psalm 88

November 10, 2009 / Allan / 1 Comment

Have you ever read Psalm 88? I would encourage you to read it. First, a word of caution: don’t read it as the last thing you do before you go to bed tonight. Don’t read it when you’re all alone. Or on a cloudy day. Try to read it in brightly-lit room full of your closest friends. Because Psalm 88 is a downer. It’s tough.

“My soul is full of trouble and my life draws near the grave.
I am set apart with the dead, like the slain who lie in the grave,
whom you remember no more, who are cut off from your care.”

Of the 150 Psalms, nearly half of them are labeled as lament psalms. Lamentations. Anger. Doubt. Bitterness. Confusion. Questions. Complaints against God. Even accusations against God. And Psalm 88 may be the most uncomfortable.

“You have put me in the lowest pit…”
“You have overwhelmed me with all your waves…”
“You have taken from me my closest friends…”

Psalm 88 is the only lament psalm that doesn’t, at some point, turn to praise. There’s no praise here. No thanksgiving. There’s not even any hope that God will eventually change his mind or eventually rescue. The psalmist here declares that praying to God is doing no good. God has abandoned him completely. And there’s no light at the end of the tunnel.

“Why, O Lord, do you reject me?”
“Your terrors have destroyed me.”
“The darkness is my closest friend.”

Maybe you’ve never read Psalm 88. But have you ever felt Psalm 88?

This past Sunday here at Legacy we read Psalm 88 and then we prayed it. We lifted up to God our despair and depression, our confusions and doubts. We lifted up to God all those in our congregation suffering from cancer and other disease, those dealing with divorce, those struggling with unemployment, those battling family issues such as rebellious children and abusive spouses, our people who are suffering through the loss of loved ones — both recent and a long time ago. On Sunday we were honest with our God about our faith and our fears. We asked him the hard questions. Why are these things happening? How long will they continue? We told God plainly that we don’t always understand.

Those aren’t easy words to pray. It’s unusual in that we rarely pray this way at all, especially in a corporate Sunday morning setting. But the reading and the prayer and the open and honest theme of the day seemed to be especially meaningful to the many, many, many, many people of our church who are feeling Psalm 88.

It would be impossible to share with you in this space the more-than-usual number of phone calls, emails, and pop-in visits I’ve received in just the two days since Sunday’s service regarding what we did together as a church family. Being publicly and completely honest with God and with ourselves about our pains — physical, emotional, and spiritual pains — resonated with young and old, men and women, from every background and worldview imaginable. It touched people. It bonded people. Because a whole lot of us are feeling Psalm 88. At some point, most of us have felt Psalm 88.

Some still balk at using this kind of language with God, even though all of God’s people in Scripture, from the Patriarchs and Judges and Prophets to Christ himself and the Saints in heaven, have used the language of lament to voice their complaints to God in the middle of great trial. But there’s great comfort in unburdening yourself. There’s great relief in unloading and getting things off your chest. There’s solace in knowing that he’s listening.

You know that.

It’s OK. God loves you, remember?

Peace,

Allan

Category: Faith (Page 20 of 24)

The Strong Branch

God Was With ______.

Our Fathers' Religion

Common to Man

Thanksgiving for Roadblocks

Feeling Psalm 88

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