Author: Allan (Page 323 of 492)

For the Sake of Others

In keeping with his promises to Israel, God saves them. The Hebrew Scriptures make it very plain, telling in great detail using God’s own words, the how and the why of God saving Israel. “I carried you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself.”

“My treasured possession:” royal property belonging to God purely by his own will and desire.

“The whole earth is mine:” the Lord can do as he pleases; and it pleases him to make Israel his own.

“A kingdom of priests, a holy nation:” Israel is different; set apart from the other nations.

Yes, the people belong to God and, yes, they are called to be separate from the rest of the world. But Israel is not separate in that they live in isolation from the other nations. As holy and priestly, Israel is the means by which God will save and bless the entire world. The purpose of God’s people is international in scope. It’s nature is global. Israel is a holy and priestly nation that God has chosen to work through to bring about his eternal plans for mankind.

God calls his people to live holy lives, to stick out like a sore thumb in the ways they live. Why? For the sake of others! To save the world!

God has created a people to be the means for reconciling the nations to himself. And when God’s people disobey God’s laws, when they live in ways that are not holy, when God’s people do what everybody else is doing, yes, it has serious implications for their relationship with God. But, much bigger than that, it thwarts the salvation plans of heaven for everybody else.

Look at the golden calf.

“Moses saw that the people were running wild and that Aaron had let them get out of control and so become a laughingstock to their enemies.” ~Exodus 32:25

Rather than redeeming the nations, Israel rejects the God who saved her and becomes a laughingstock, a point of ridicule. As a result, the world is less attracted to the true God than ever before. All throughout the Old Testament, Israel’s disobedience to God leads to their reproach by the rest of the world. And that’s totally counter to God’s purpose for his people. He made his people for the sake of others.

Even in the exile, where Israel felt the full weight of the consequences of her disobedience, the focus is on how this is impacting the salvation of the rest of the world. God promises to bring the remnant of Israel back to the land in order to renew his universal purpose in calling Israel in the first place.

“It is too small a thing for you to be my servant to restore the tribes of Jacob and bring back those of Israel I have kept. I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth.” ~Isaiah 49:6

Even in the darkest period of Israel’s history, when her own release from captivity was the most pressing concern, God reminds his people of the broader picture. He reminds them that it’s not about them. Why are they going to be released? Why are they going to be rescued? For the sake of others, not themselves. To bring salvation to the rest of the world.

As God’s people and devout followers of his Son, it’s not about us. It’s about the rest of the world. Your church is not about you and the people you sit with, it’s about your city. Your Bible class or your small group is not about you and your friends, it’s about your neighborhood, your community. It’s not about us. It’s not about any of us. It’s about God using us to save others. We are saved, we are brought together in him, we exist for the sake of others.

“You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you… that they may see your good deeds and glorify God.” ~1 Peter 2:9-12

Peace,

Allan

Obama Saves Jerry Wayne

I never sign petitions. You know my feelings about petitions and boycotts. Any sign of power, any show of force, any threat at all in an effort to get my/our way is in direct opposition to the ways of our Lord and the manner of his Kingdom. Those are the ways of the world, not the ways of Christ.

On Monday, I swallowed hard and made an exception. A Dallas Cowboys fan in Georgia had posted a petition on the White House website urging President Obama to remove Jerry Jones as the team’s owner and general manager. And I signed it. I’ve long held that the only way to get Jerry Wayne to sell the team is if they go 0-16 for several years in a row. If they lose every single game for a decade, maybe then Jerry would lose enough money that he would be forced to walk away. But nobody goes 0-16 anymore. It’s an impossible dream. I’ve been rooting against them every Sunday since 1996 and it’s impossible. So I signed the petition.

The petition is lacking in creativity and short on length. But it’s long on emotion and style:

“We, the citizens of the great state of Texas and Dallas Cowboys fans worldwide, have been oppressed by an over-controlling, delusional, oppressive dictator for way too long. We request the Executive Branch’s immediate assistance in removal of owner and GM Jerry Jones. His incompetence and ego have not only been an extreme disappointment for way to long, but moreover, it has caused extreme mental and emotional duress.”

So I signed it. I was signature number 191. Yesterday morning the total number of signatures was a little over 22,000, less than three thousand away from the total number needed to require an official response from President Obama. But when I checked it yesterday afternoon, the petition had been removed from the White House website. Something about a violation of “terms of participation.” I have no idea what that means. But I’m running out of ideas for getting Jerry Wayne out of the picture.

Thanksgiving Day’s humiliating loss to the Redskins brought the Cowboys overall record since 1997 to 125 wins and 126 losses. For the past fifteen years, Jerry Wayne’s Cowboys are 125-126. They’re a .500 team. Have been for a long, long time.

I think back to the last of the Landry years. The team was struggling. Three straight losing seasons, including that last 3-13 record in 1988. People were calling for Landry’s head. The game had passed him by. He was being outcoached. Tex Schramm was being out GM’ed. Gil Brandt was being out scouted. It was time for a change. Remember? When Jerry Wayne purchased the team on that dark February day in 1989, he too chimed in with what was wrong with the Cowboys. They deserved better, he said. Their loyal fans deserved more. The Cowboys are nothing less than the greatest franchise in football history and Jerry insisted that he was there to right the ship, to restore the luster to the glorious silver star. Yeah, things had gotten pretty bad.

Do you think Jerry realizes that his Cowboys of today are even worse than those Cowboys of Landry’s last years?

125-126 over the past fifteen seasons.

Tom Landry went a combined 36-34 over his last five seasons. But just two seasons before that he had taken the Cowboys to their third straight NFC Championship Game. They actually won the NFC East in 1985. Jerry’s Cowboys are 39-36 in their past five seasons and a long, long, long, long time removed from their last appearance in a conference championship game. Jerry Wayne’s Dallas Cowboys are in worse shape now — and have been for a long time — than when he bought the team. If he truly cared about the franchise and its history and its fans and its place in American sports, he’d do the honorable thing and sell the team.

What better way to earn bi-partisan support in the White House than for the President to remove Jerry from the Cowboys? Who could possibly argue against it? It would be universally heralded as the most important thing a U. S. President has actually done for the common citizens in decades. Even Sean Hannity would nod in approval.

But Obama wouldn’t touch it. And we’re left with continuing to root against the Cowboys in order to save the team.

Now, where’s the link to a petition to move the New York Yankees to Mumbai?

Peace,

Allan

Augustine’s Pain

“My own way of expressing myself almost always disappoints me. I am anxious for the best possible, as I feel it in me before I start bringing it into the open in plain words; and when I see that it is less impressive than I had felt it to be, I am saddened that my tongue cannot live up to my heart.” ~Augustine

Augustine the preacher penned these words more than 1,600 years ago. And from time to time I, too, feel his great pain. Not all the time; not every single Sunday; not even every month or so. But there are times when I am almost crushed by a painfully horrible sermon that I’ve delivered.

The old joke goes that the only thing worse than finishing a sermon and realizing it wasn’t very good is just getting started preaching a sermon and realizing it isn’t very good.

I was there this past Sunday. I don’t know what it was. I think I tried to say too much in too short amount of time. I think I tried to do too much. I think the subject matter (Exodus 34:7b) was too complex and difficult. Maybe I was distracted by some heavy things we had just finished discussing in our Bible class. Maybe I was a little travel logged from the drive home from our family Thanksgiving back to Amarillo that was made a bit longer by the blowout in Bowie. Maybe it was the sparse, sparse, sparse crowd in our worship center. Maybe it was none of those things at all. But for whatever reason, or reasons, nothing was flowing. Nothing was communicating. Ten minutes into the sermon, I couldn’t wait for it to be over. And I just knew 650 other people in the room were feeling the same way.

When it was over, I couldn’t hardly pray with our brother who had walked down to the front to ask for the prayers of our church family. I found myself asking God to forgive me instead of him, to help me instead of him. It’s the first time I’ve ever welcomed a person responding to the sermon by grabbing that person’s hand and begging God to help me.

And I sat there through most of our communion time wondering how weird it would be if I stood up one more time — to the shock and horror of the congregation, no doubt — to apologize for delivering such a poor sermon. I don’t think it was a homilitical homicide, as my friend Jason Reeves says about really catastrophic sermons that can set a church back several decades theologically. It wasn’t like that. It just wasn’t very good.

I had great hopes for the sermon. I was prepared to preach about the utter holiness of our God and the utter repulsiveness of our sins against that holiness and the unexplainable gift of his grace and forgiveness that allows us to dwell in his presence anyway. I was ready. But it just fell flat. And it was crushing me. My tongue didn’t live up to what was in my heart. I felt I had really let everybody down.

I walked to my study — pitiful, pathetic, sad — and was greeted by an email from one of our teenagers at Legacy, a great young man with an eager spirit for our Lord, getting ready to finish school now at ACU and enter the ministry. He wrote the email from Fort Worth at 11:15, right in the middle of my lousy sermon:

Allan, you’re probably preaching right now but I want to say something to you. Years ago, you challenged this church at Legacy and me to consider others. You spoke of how it didn’t make sense for anyone to take communion alone. You encouraged us to move, and some did, but you instilled something in my heart and soul that I will never forget. We don’t have to be alone in this life, we don’t have to do it on our own.

This morning I was encouraged by the Spirit to go sit by a brother of mine who was by himself. I know the Spirit compelled me, encouraged me, and supported me to do it past all the lies that Satan was filling my head with.

You know this, but you have made a difference in my life and I am blessed to call you a mentor, a brother, and a friend.

Thank you for being bold enough to spur people on to act. You are a servant of God and I am blessed to have you in my life. I want to tell you that I have been praying for you and am intentionally praying right now that the words from your mouth will encourage Central and others to believe in the Spirit and act. To be bold! To know that God is with them and that they are not doing it alone.

Reading this young man’s email didn’t cause me to smile. Reading it a second and third and fourth time didn’t bring me to laugh out loud. It buckled my knees and brought into sharp focus my own pettiness and shortsightedness, my own sin in the presence and service of God. It reminded me that every sentence I speak from the Word of God will serve an eternal purpose that I’m not always going to recognize. It reminded me that our Father is in charge of our sermons, not our preachers. He alone inspires, he alone speaks, he alone puts his Word exactly where it needs to go and when it needs to go there and he alone causes it to grow and bear Kingdom fruit to his eternal glory and praise.

Who am I, sweating out a sermon that I don’t think stacks up to my standards, when 300 miles away a young man is begging God in trusting faith to use my words, no matter how poorly written or delivered, to encourage the saints? Who am I? I am shallow and weak.  I have a big ego and a low self esteem, a terribly dangerous combination. And I can get really defensive. I take things way too personally and I worry a lot.

And when I get in a really weird place — not every single Sunday, not even every month or so — our God sends a divinely ordained messenger to lift me up and remind me of who I am and who God is. This is God’s work, not mine. These are his sermons, this is his Church, not mine. Thank you, Lord, for not destroying me. Thank you, God, for reminding me and encouraging me. Thank you for using me at my best and at my worst.

Amen

Dear Carrie-Anne

To my loving wife and my dearest friend, Carrie-Anne:

Twenty-three years ago today, you said “yes.” I was overjoyed. And much relieved. I thought I might have really messed things up beyond repair. Thank you. We drove the little blue Nissan Hardbody to the Pampa Mall where we purchased both the wedding rings for $100. Then, after a couple of courtesy phone calls, we high-tailed it to the Amarillo airport, maxed out my brand new credit card on a couple of round trip tickets to Las Vegas, and tied the knot late that night in the basement of the Clark County Courthouse.

Happy Anniversary, Carrie-Anne. Here it is, November 25. Another chance to celebrate our love, another day just for us.

Just for us…

And Whitney, Valerie, and Carley…

And John Todd, Kami, James, and Debbie…

And the entire Sojourners Bible class…

And the four missionaries to La Paz, Bolivia…

And the missions committee and their spouses…

And the elders and their wives…

And the whole Central Church of Christ…

Did I leave anybody out?

It’s ironic, isn’t it, that we got married all by ourselves — no family, no friends, no church — yet because of my vocation and the timing of the Thanksgiving holiday, we are forced to spend almost every anniversary of that wedding with lots of people and many pressing obligations. It serves us right.

Actually, it’s quite beautiful. In fact, I might suggest it’s kinda perfect. Our families and our friends are such an important part of our marriage. These are the very people who encourage us and support us, love us and take care of us. These are the very ones who, I think it could be argued, have helped us grow together in Christ and with one another in marriage. We’re a better couple because of our friends. And the work we do with our church is work we always do together. This is our passion and our joy, our divine calling and our great blessing. A Sunday with our congregation and all the stuff that means for the preacher and his wife is really a wonderful way to celebrate our anniversary together.

I love you, darling. You make me so very happy. You make me confident and bold; you make me feel good. All the time.

Thank you for agreeing to spend the rest of your life with me. And thank you for allowing me to spend the rest of my life loving you.

Your grateful husband. Forever.

Allan

Thanksgiving

“I am a poor wretch whom God took charge of, and for whom he has done so indescribably much more than I ever expected… that I only long for the peace of eternity in order to do nothing but thank him.”

~Soren Kierkegaard

One Faith

“…that all of them may be one… that the world may believe.” ~John 17:21

We just concluded our latest three-week church orientation classes here at Central. Three or four times a year, Matthew Blake and I host brand new members and anyone else who wants more information about our church family. We talk about our history and our future, our goals and our dreams. We describe in detail the clear expectations we have of our members. And we spend a good deal of time on our congregation’s vision that, we believe, has been handed to us by our God.

A very important question came up last week as we were discussing the “reconciliation” part of our vision. See, we take the prayer of Jesus in John 17 very seriously. We believe it is God’s holy will that all of his children, that all disciples of his Son, be reconciled. We think God’s great desire is for all Christians to be brought together as a powerful witness to the world of his love and grace. We believe that when Paul writes that Jesus died on the cross to break down all the barriers that exist among men and women and between mankind and God, that includes the barriers between Christian denominations. We’ve very much in to tearing down walls and destroying barriers because our God is very much in to tearing down walls and destroying barriers.

So, I’m talking to this group of thirty people or so about our cooperative efforts with the other churches in Amarillo. I’m discussing our partnership with the Southlawn Assembly of God on the pantry plant, the pulpit swaps with the Christian Church on Washington Street, our prayer breakfasts with the Presbyterians and Methodists, my lunches at First Baptist. We believe these kinds of cooperative efforts and expressions of Christian unity are good for the Kingdom and very beneficial to the city of Amarillo. We believe it shapes our own people more into the image of the Son and moves toward reclaiming our whole city in the name of Jesus.

“But how do you deal with the fact that a lot of these people you’re working with aren’t baptized like we are?”

The question came from my right. And I’ve heard it before. I hear it quite often, actually. There are many variations of the question. “They don’t believe the same things we believe; how can we fellowship with them?” “What about our differences?” “Are they saved?” “Are you saying we’re all the same?” “What are we teaching our kids?” The woman who asked the question on Sunday quoted the same passage I’ve heard quoted many times in these types of discussions: “…one Lord, one faith, one baptism…” from Ephesians 4:3-6. But this woman wasn’t accusing anybody. She wasn’t aggressive or confrontational. She really wanted to know. She was genuinely wrestling with it.

Yes, there is indeed one faith. That is what we believe and what we profess. There is one faith: that the almighty Creator came to this earth in the form of a human to restore that which was broken by sin and to save that which was lost by evil; that he lived and died and was raised to eternal life by the Spirit of God; that he reigns right now at the right hand of the Father in heaven; that he calls us to follow him by denying ourselves and submitting completely to his Lordship, receiving forgiveness of sins and the indwelling of the Spirit of Truth, and participating fully in his sufferings as we work toward that same restoration and salvation for the sake of his world; that he is coming back very soon to reclaim what is his, including all of his faithful disciples, and that he will live with them face-to-face forever. That’s the one faith. That’s it. And the Presbyterians and Methodists and Baptists and any other Christian denomination you want to lump in there all hold to that one faith and that one Lord with the same white-knuckle death grip as you.

It’s one faith, not one expression of faith.

When we start arguing about worship styles or leadership structures, when we start dividing about baptism methods or communion frequencies, we’re not working toward the same things for which our God is working. We’re not moving in the faith we profess, we’re actually moving away from it. Yeah, we’re all a little different. And none of us is perfect in our understanding or our practice. Not yet. So why would God’s grace cover me in my misunderstandings and misapplications, but not cover the other Christ-followers in the other churches in their misunderstandings and misapplications? That is the height of arrogance. An attitude like that actually denies the need for God’s grace.

(I came across this line from Alexander Campbell, penned in The Christian Baptist (ha!) in 1837, that perhaps explains much better what I’m trying to say:

“How do I know that any one loves my Master but by his obedience to his commandments? I answer, in no other way. But mark, I do not substitute obedience to one commandment, for universal or even general obedience. It is the image of Christ the Christian looks for and loves; and this does not consist in being exact in a few items, but in general devotion to the whole truth so far as known… He who infers that none are Christians but the immersed, as greatly errs as he who affirms that none are alive but those of clear and full vision… Every one who despises any ordinance of Christ, or who is willingly ignorant of it, cannot be a Christian; still I should sin against my own convictions should I teach anyone to think that if he mistook the meaning of any institution, while in his soul he desired to know the whole will of God, he must perish forever.” )

The conversation in our orientation class went on for almost fifteen minutes. A couple of our shepherds joined in, explaining that here at Central we like to concentrate on the things we have in common with other Christians, which are many and important, than on our differences, which are minor and fleeting. They described our deep desire to both teach other Christians and to learn from other Christians, recognizing that we cannot do either without being in loving  and trusting relationship.

I received a lengthy text from another woman in the class later that afternoon. In part, it read,

“After hearing the response from you and the elders to the question about baptism this morning, we know Central is the home for our family. We want to be part of a church that is seeking to be like Christ, focusing more on God’s Word than man’s traditions. My husband and I both need to grow in our knowledge and faith and feel that Central is the place to do that. We want our children to look for what people are doing right and not pick at what others are doing wrong…”

I’m never sure how our vision statements and mission explanations are going to be received by long time CofCers. As much as I hate it, and as much as our Lord’s heart is broken by it, there are still many in our faith stream who condemn Christians of other stripes who don’t baptize the same ways they do or sing exactly like they do or read the same English translations of the Scriptures that they do. It still happens. All the time. But I do know that we have to stay true to our God’s calling here at Central. We must boldly proclaim and practice the ministry of reconciliation and the doctrine of unity that are major and explicit in serious discipleship to Christ Jesus. We can’t ever compromise our teaching on the subjects for fear of offending a visitor or running off a potential new member. It’s better that people know exactly what they’re getting in to when they jump in with our congregation. It’s much better having these faith discussions in our orientation classes than a couple of years down the road.

By the way, the woman who asked the questions is officially placing her membership with us, too. I figured she would. Jesus promised that his great truths would set people free.

Peace,

Allan

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