Author: Allan (Page 350 of 492)

Just Go

There are approximately 6,785,000,000 people living together on this planet. The most liberal estimates claim that one-third of these people are Christian, including all those who identify themselves as Christians religiously, socially, or politically. That leaves 4.5-billion people who, if the Gospel is true, at this very moment are separated from God in their sins and, assuming nothing changes, will spend an eternity in hell.

4.5-billion people. And most of them live outside the United States.

That’s why we’re told to go. And that’s why we obey that command. Go tell the Good News of salvation from God in Christ. Go share the Gospel. Go teach people what God has done in Jesus. Go show people what it looks like to receive the gift of a righteous relationship with the holy Creator of heaven and earth. Go.

And we do. We’re very, very good at going.

The Legacy Church just finished hosting the Global Missions Conference. Dozens and dozens of missionaries from all over the planet shared their stories, showed their slides, and gave glory to God for the great work he has started and is bringing to completion in their ministries. Church leaders from all over this country gathered to be encouraged and challenged to keep going and keep sending until our Christ returns.

I was so encouraged to open up my Christian Chronicle this morning and see this huge picture of the Legacy worship center during the Global Missions Conference. They could have picked a more attractive person than Mark Hooper to feature in their picture — any other person, actually! But I was so pleased. So grateful.

When we were in discussions about hosting the GMC at Legacy we prayed and planned, strategized and hoped, that the conference would benefit Legacy in giving us a big picture view of what God is doing in his world. We prayed that it would broaden our understanding of God’s eternal Kingdom, that it would cause us to see Christ’s Church as so much bigger than just what’s happening in Tarrant County or the United States. It would mature us. It would stretch us. And it would motivate us to just go.

Just go take a Let’s Start Talking trip to China. Just go help a church plant in Kharkov, Ukraine for a couple of weeks. Just go lead a Bible discussion in Australia. Just go knock doors in Africa.

Just go invite your neighbor to church. Just go volunteer at a shelter for abused women or neglected children. Just go ask your co-worker if they have a relationship with God in Christ. Just go spreading the Good News wherever you can. Just go.

Legacy has a heart for missions. And I love that. My heart for missions was strengthened at Legacy. Foreign missions is one of the very best things God does through Legacy. And our experiences together there taught me a lot about God’s purposes in the world. All indications are that the Global Missions Conference last week was a tremendous success. Of course. We knew it would be. Congratulations to the Legacy shepherds and ministers and staff and tireless volunteers who pulled it off. I keep hearing how much our Lord did to bless each of you last week. I praise God. And I’m so glad.

Central, too, has a great heart for missions. As the founding church of Continent of Great Cities, there’s a heritage here of placing great value and importance on what God is doing everywhere else. And supporting those efforts with prayer and money and trips and hard work. And I love that.

May we be reminded that we are all missionaries. When our God decided to bring his salvation to you and me, he did not send gold or silver. He didn’t write a check or click in the numbers to a debit card. He sent himself. He came to this earth and took on our skin, our sufferings, our sin. He made himself vulnerable to death. And he endured it for us, for our eternal glory.

You, too, must go and do likewise. You don’t have to cross the ocean. God may be calling you to cross the street. He may need you to cross the break room at work or the sidelines at your kid’s soccer game this weekend.

Yes, please write your check to that foreign missionary. They need it. But then, go. Just go. Go somewhere and tell somebody that they can be saved by a loving God who created them and who wants nothing more than to spend eternity with them in his holy presence.

Peace,

Allan

I Am Not A Dog!

“First let the children eat all they want,” he told her, “for it is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs.” ~Mark 7:27

The way Jesus talks to this woman always messes us up. It’s fine for Jesus to be rude to Pharisees and Saducees. They deserve it. We even cheer at Jesus’ harsh words to the religious establishment… until we realize he’s talking to us. But it’s just not like him — it’s not Christ-like — for him to be rude to this woman who’s genuinely coming to him for help. It doesn’t make sense. It offends us.

Now, I do think Jesus is doing something deliberate here. And I think Mark is bending over backwards to show it to us. I believe Jesus is re-stating the salvation plan: first for the Jew and then for the Greek. And as he’s saying it, he’s demonstrating that the “then” is right now! He heals this Gentile woman in this Gentile land. And then our Lord immediately takes off for the Decapolis, ten pagan Gentile cities on the east coast of Galilee. And he heals. And then he feeds four thousand Gentiles in a Gentile desert. What Mark is saying in this section of his Gospel is that now it’s for everybody. The power of the Kingdom of God is for all people. You do not set any limits on the universal reach of the Savior of the World.

But sometimes that wonderful news overshadows the great humility of this desperate woman. And I believe Mark wants us to pay attention to that, too.

Jesus calls her and her people “dogs.” There’s no getting around it. And this woman doesn’t argue. She accepts the Jewish priority as explained by Jesus. She concedes the difference between the children and the dogs. And she humbles herself as a dog in order to accept healing from the Lord.

Her attitude is key. It’s necessary if one is going to be a true disciple of Jesus.

She comes to Jesus empty handed. She makes no claim. She has no merit. No priority. No standing. No privilege. She has nothing to commend herself to Jesus. She is in no way deserving of his mercy and healing. She does not argue that her case is some kind of special exception. She doesn’t lobby for special treatment. She completely accepts his judgment and bows down before Jesus as a beggar.

She’s not saying, “Lord, give me what I deserve on the basis of my goodness.” She says, “Lord, give me what I don’t deserve on the basis of your goodness.”

This willingness to humble oneself is a key requirement for discipleship. And it’s a lesson that Jesus’ own hand-picked apostles had a difficult time learning. Her attitude is the opposite of the apostles’ who are always arguing about who’s going to be the greatest. This woman is not bitter about the privileges of others. She doesn’t resent others’ shares of God’s blessings. She accepts her place and she comes to Jesus, just like we all must, as a sinner, poor and needy. She accepts that she’s unacceptable. Just like me. Just like us.

Martin Luther saw the entire Gospel in this one story. We are truly more wicked than we could ever believe; and we are more loved and accepted by God than we could ever dare to hope.

Pride, though, is our huge problem. Augustine said pride is what changed angels into devils. Pride is what causes us to thumb our noses at the God who insists we are unworthy. “I’m not a dog! I’m not weak! I’m not incapable! I’m not undeserving!” We’re offended. And we walk away from the Savior.

But not this woman. No, sir. This woman understood very well what Romans tells us, what all of Holy Scripture tells us: we are rebels and enemies of God, sinful and diseased, dead and powerless. In all humility she accepted that status, and received from Christ the healing and salvation she and her family so desperately needed. She is the perfect model of what it means to be last of all, to bow low and submit to the gracious King.

Don’t believe for a second you’re not a dog. You are. Don’t change the words in the song from “…such a worm as I” to “…such a one as I.” Don’t. You are an unrighteous, unholy, sinful, dirty human being in desperate need of a Savior. And he has come. And he loves you more than you can possibly begin to imagine.

Peace,

Allan

Back To Their Own People

“On their release, Peter and John went back to their own people…” ~Acts 4:23

Please notice that in the middle of terrible trial and increasing persecution, the apostles who’d been arrested and questioned for preaching and teaching in the name of Jesus “went back to their own people.” They gathered with their brothers and sisters in Christ because they knew the fellowship of the saints is a tremendous source of encouragement and strength. Fellowship is one of the main themes in Acts and we shouldn’t be surprised that it comes to the front during this time of crisis.

When their God-given mission was declared illegal, Peter and John shared and prayed with their own people.

You know, the more technology we use, the more TVs and computers and laptops and cell phones and iPods — the more screens we bury our faces in and the more buds we plug in our ears — the less relational we become. Being with other people, interacting with other people, sharing and praying with other people is becoming less and less important. One of the saddest developments is that our relationships are deteriorating and they weren’t all that strong to begin with. The result is that God’s Church is ill-equipped to handle a crisis.

There is terrific strength in being together. It’s critical for us to be together where we can encourage each other, build each other up. sympathize and pray for each other. We strengthen each other when we’re together. I don’t know why anybody would ever miss one of our regular church assemblies. It’s so vital!

In ancient mythology, there’s a story about Hercules wrestling to the death with a Libyan giant named Antaeus. Antaeus was the son of Gaia, the goddess of the earth. And everytime Hercules threw Antaeus to the ground, Antaeus jumped up bigger and stronger than before. Hercules finally realized that everytime Antaeus came in contact with the earth he received fresh power, renewed strength. So he picked Antaeus up and held him in the air. He didn’t allow any contact between Antaeus and the source of his strength. And eventually Antaeus grew weaker and weaker and died without a struggle.

I think Satan knows the strength we get from being together. I think that’s why he works so hard to keep us from all meeting together. He’s the one who gives us our excuses and rationalizations and justifications for missing our meeting times. He knows if he can just hold us away from the assemblies, if our gathering with other Christians is inconsistent or non-existent, if he can just hold us in the air long enough, our spiritual condition and readiness to face a crisis won’t be nearly as strong as it is when we’re always together.

There’s great strength in being together.

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

I’ve had the great privilege of listening to Ben Witherington teach and preach and sing on the great salvation themes of the New Testament. The noted theologian and author has presented his views on Revelation to a hundred of us at the Sermon Seminar at Austin Grad. And I was blessed to spend an entire day with him at Harding last year, thanks to an invite from my brother, Keith. Now, the boisterous and bellowing one has been inspired by the unbelievable World Series to write a few paragraphs about the great game of baseball. It’s a little Cardinals-biased. But it’s a good read. You can get to it by clicking here.

Peace,

Allan

Pray for Judy

“Is anyone among you sick? Let them call the elders of the church to pray over them and anoint them with oil in the name of the Lord.” ~James 5:13-15

I’ve sometimes heard about churches and elders who take these words of the New Testament literally. And seriously. I’ve always admired that in a group of church leaders. It’s certainly outside our normal box. It’s stepping away from our cultural comfort zone.  And I’ve been curious. I’ve wondered. What does that look like? How much oil does one use? And where do you buy the oil?

The anointing with oil is certainly a cultural and contextual thing in Scripture. It probably had something to do with perceived medicinal beliefs. It could have even just been superstitious. But I’ve always thought that the wisdom of actually anointing a sick person with oil today is in the human touch it requires. In the closeness it demands. The intimacy and relationship that’s necessary. In other ways — and I hope I’m not stretching this too far — I can see how this anointing with oil can function in a sacramental way. The touch and the oil can certainly represent in a physical way what our God is doing in a way that can’t be seen or smelled. It can point to that healing. It can signify the compassion and care that God feels and the provision and protection he promises.

For a long time I’ve thought it would be good to belong to a church and serve with a group of shepherds who practiced this praying and anointing with oil. And now I do.

Yesterday we prayed with and for Judy Newton.

Judy has been diagnosed with cancerous tumors in her brain. It just happened three weeks ago. The doctors are giving her little hope. Nothing but bad news. She’s endured one surgery and is bracing now for weeks of grueling treatments. She and her husband Lanny are beloved members of this Body of Believers at Central. Their faith is inspiring. Their commitment to God and to one another is powerful. Their belief that he is doing something great with them and through them is real.

But they’re hurting. They’re devastated. They’ve had the rug ripped out from under them and they’re not sure what’s coming next.

Judy and Lanny are in Houston tonight — they flew out early this afternoon — in line for a full week’s worth of tests and evaluations and treatments at M. D. Anderson. And yesterday they asked the elders to pray for Judy and to anoint her with oil.

So we went to her house and prayed. Several of us, a bunch of us, I’m not really sure how many of us, showed up at Lanny and Judy’s house to lift her up to our Father in prayer. Ministers and shepherds and all our spouses.

Tim explained to Judy that we don’t really understand fully the significance behind the oil. But, at the same time, we take it seriously. And literally. He told Judy that there is something to the physical touch that goes along with the prayer. There’s something about faithful obedience. There’s something about symbolizing what God is doing, how he is active, in our prayers. And then he took the oil and gently applied a couple of drops to Judy’s forehead.

And we prayed.

All of us. On our knees. Hands on Judy and Lanny. Arms around one another. With tears and tight throats. Eloquently and, at times, haltingly. At once feeling wholly inadequate for the task and perfectly at peace that God’s Spirit is doing all the work. All of us. Begging God to heal her. Confessing to God that we don’t understand. Wrestling with God. Praising God. On our knees before the Creator of heaven and earth, praying for his daughter Judy.

E. M. Bounds once said that prayer does not prepare us for greater works; it IS the greater work. I believe that. And so does the church family at Central. We believe in the power of prayer. We believe our God hears the faithful cries of his children. And we continue to lift up to him our sweet sister Judy.

I would ask you to please pray for Judy, too. Pray for healing. Pray for comfort and peace. Pray that our God would remove from Judy’s body all the horrible things that would cause her pain and do her harm. Pray that God’s name would be glorified in Lanny and Judy through this dark trial. And pray that our Lord’s holy will be done in her life just as it is in heaven.

Their precious daughter, Aleisha, is updating Judy’s battle every day on a blog. You can get to it by clicking here.

Peace,

Allan

Together in Prayer

In the first century, Israel was ruled by Rome. The Roman Empire reigned supreme. There were Roman garrisons in every city; there were Roman soldiers on every street. The Jews were allowed their religious laws and festivals, but all under tight Roman restrictions. Upstart priests were arrested; rebels were mercilessly crushed. And groups of God’s people who were known as Zealots began to lash out in anger and violence.

As Roman rule became more oppressive the Zealots stashed their hillside hideouts with swords and spears and daggers. There were secret killings, public assassinations, and bloody revolts. The Zealots were committed to a life of violence against the Roman government. They challenged the presence of Roman soldiers; they provoked the Roman armies. And by July of 67 A.D., the violence escalated to the point that 40,000 Galileans were massacred in the hills outside Nazareth.

Zealots were admired by the Jews for their courage. They were honored by the Jews for their dedication to God’s cause and for standing up for what’s right. Zealots were heroes. And the violence continued to accelerate.

As the land we live in today becomes less Christian — or as the Church becomes more Christian — I believe it’s absolutely realistic for us disciples to be labeled and/or targeted by the government. As time goes on in this country, I think it’s feasible that Christians could come to be associated with dangerous radicals, to be blacklisted, to come under closer government scrutiny, to lose our tax-exempt status, maybe even to be arrested.

So, how do Christians respond?

As the realization sets in that we do not live in a Christian nation, I’m afraid that we Christians are guilty of lashing out in anger and violence. We’re more like the Zealots than we ought to be.

Lengthy petitions. Angry letters to the editor. Hate filled emails that are forwarded and re-forwarded and forwarded again. Malicious videos. Spiteful attitudes. And we fight and we rally and we march. And we target a certain political party and we classify a particular political ideology as evil. And we blast away. Both barrels.

When the government put the screws to God’s people in the first century, the Zealots responded by killing with their swords.

When the government clamps down on God’s people today, I’m afraid we respond by killing with our words.

Our risen Lord Jesus says killing with swords and killing with words is the exact same thing.

In the early days of God’s Church, Peter and John were arrested for preaching and teaching the resurrection of Jesus. They were questioned by the authorities and then ordered to stop speaking in the name of Jesus. 

Upon their release, Peter hurried home to Capernaum where he immediately wrote a scathing letter to the Sanhedrin in which he referred to Caiaphas as a flaming liberal and questioned his citizenship and his sexuality and made copies of the letter for all the apostles.

No.

Peter drew the dagger from his belt, the one he had used in the garden the night Jesus was betrayed and, shouting “Jesus is Lord!” he ran it through Caiaphas, killing him, while John plotted the destruction of the evidence.

No.

“On their release, Peter and John went back to their own people and reported all that the chief priests and elders had said to them. When they heard this, they raised their voices together in prayer to God.” ~Acts 4:23-24

Yes.

May we be a people who never ever lash out against those who oppress us. May we never attempt to injure anyone with swords or with words. And when resistance to the Kingdom and opposition to our Christ gets worse in this land, may we find our strength and our comfort with each other. May we respond to political crisis and government hostility in united, fiery, passionate, intense prayer to our Father. May we be bold to continue preaching and teaching in the name of Christ Jesus, our King. And may our God act in mighty ways to further his Word and advance his eternal Kingdom.

Peace,

Allan

One Strike Away

A good friend of mine texted me during the 11th inning last night with this: “Next season I’m rooting for the Dodgers; cheering for the Rangers is taking years off my life!”

What a devastating loss. Gut wrenching. Heart breaking. I’ve never agonized through anything quite like it. Never. Not once, but twice, the Rangers were one strike away from capturing their first ever World Series crown. The families of the players had already been ushered by stadium officials to a special section near the visitors’ dugout in order to participate in the celebration. The champagne had already been wheeled into the visitors’ clubhouse. Plastic sheeting was hung over the lockers. Tony LaRussa had already reminded his players and coaches to “act right by the fans” and show your appreciation for them when the game’s over and the Rangers are celebrating on the field. The Texas players — twice!! — were all poised on the top steps of the dugout, preparing to leap the rails and exult in the sweetness of the championship.

Now, I don’t know.

I feel like it’s over. I feel like they lost it last night. I feel hopeless. Right now, this morning, I cannot imagine for the life of me any possibility that the Rangers may become the first team since the 1979 “We Are Family” Pirates to win a World Series Game Seven on the road. I can’t see it. I can’t believe in it. Last night was too much. Too tough. Too emotionally draining. Too mentally exhausting. Too horribly wrong. How do you come back from that?

Give the Cardinals credit. I do. They never quit. The same things we love about this Rangers team, St. Louis exhibited all over the place last night. Never say die. Keep chipping away. Keep believing. Keep working. Never give up. Never quit. They were down to their last strike twice. The team that appeared to be the most rattled actually came up with the clutch hits under the most pressure. They were spectacular.

I have two questions, though, that I’m afraid will haunt all Rangers fans and perhaps hang over this franchise for the rest of my life: How did Nelson Cruz allow that ball to go over his head and why was Mark Lowe pitching at all?

I’d have much rather seen you out there pitching for Texas than Mark Lowe. I can’t understand why Ron Washington would have Colby Lewis bat with the bases loaded earlier in the game, and then pull Feldman for German with one runner on first and two outs at a much more critical spot. And to have a ball go over your head with a two-run lead in the 9th inning is inexcusable. It’s like a safety with a five-point lead getting burned deep for a touchdown pass on the last play of the game. You don’t allow anything behind you. Or over you. Even with a bad jump on the ball, Cruz has to be positioned at the beginning of the play so that never happens. (Tom Verducci writes eloquently about this and analyzes some of the history the Rangers are up against now right here.)

The Rangers are the first team in World Series history to suffer three blown saves in one game. How do you come back from that? I don’t think it’s possible. Then again, the Rangers haven’t lost two games in a row since the middle of August. They are 14-0 after losses since August 23, 46 games without back-to-back Ls. They do know how to bounce back. (Click here for a pretty good column by Richard Durrett about Ron Washington and Michael Young trying to keep the team encouraged and confident in the aftermath of the horrendous meltdown.)

Today’s date has been marked on my calendar for three months. Amarillo High plays Tascosa tonight. It’s the biggest high school football rivalry in the entire panhandle. (Am I supposed to capitalize “Panhandle” when I’m referring to the region? I don’t know about that yet.) People drive in from all corners to watch this game. Bivens Stadium will be packed. I’ve been hearing about this game for years. I talked about it when I did the TSN Friday Night Scoreboard with Roger Emrich ten years ago. If the Sandies win tonight, they clinch a playoff spot. It’s a big game. It’s a community event like no other.

But I’ll be in #1622, on the microfiber couch, in front of the TV, hoping beyond hope that the Rangers can bounce back one more time. Hoping that the Rangers have one more huge surprise left for us. There will be other AHS-Tascosa football games. There will be one next October, in fact. But there may never, ever be another Rangers Game Seven in the World Series. Eight months ago, 30 teams and their fans dreamed of being in a Game Seven in the World Series. There are two teams left. And Texas is one of them.

It’s helping me to read Jamey Newberg’s Report today. I’ve read it twice. It’s good. It’s inspiring. If you’re a Rangers fan, I encourage you to click here and read his short column. It’ll take you two minutes. It captures very well some of the misery of last night. And it encourages a healthy and positive perspective on tonight. I’ll read it a few more times. I may print it off and put it on my wall.

Maybe I’ll feel better about things by the time the game begins. But, right now, I feel like it’s over.

Peace,

Allan

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