Category: Fellowship (Page 10 of 17)

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.

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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

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

The Prayer of the Fellowship

If I were Skip Bayless, I would have headlined today’s post:

“Rain-gers Cruz to Detroit with 2-0 Lead!” 

I received the news of Nellie’s 11th inning drive via David Byrnes’ iPhone during Valerie’s choir performance at Amarillo High School. The Rangers won it right in the middle of Jubilate Deo. It means sing with joy to the Lord. And we did.

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Yesterday’s post about our congregational prayer for Judy has pushed me even farther in reflecting on the importance of public prayer. So many times our hurried efforts at the pulpit or, worse, our rambling ruminations and repetition betray a careless attitude toward this sacred activity among the saints in the presence of God on his holy ground. Congregational prayer is never to be entered into lightly. It is serious. It’s heavy. It requires forethought and preparation. And it demands relationship. You really can’t pray appropriately for your brother unless you really know your brother.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer says as much in Life Together. And I agree.

“The prayer in the common devotion should be the prayer of the fellowship and not that of the individual who is praying. It is his responsibility to pray for the fellowship. So he will have to share the daily life of the fellowship; he must know the cares, the needs, the joys and thanksgivings, the petitions and hopes of the others. Their work and everything they bring with them must not be unknown to him. He prays as a brother among brothers. It will require practice and watchfulness, if he is not to confuse his own heart with the heart of the fellowship, if he is really to be guided solely by his responsibility to pray for the fellowship.”

If you’re asking people to lead prayers in your assemblies, please don’t wait until the day before to make that call. Give them several days, maybe a full week or more, to pray and prepare and practice for this awesome task. And if you’re leading these public prayers on behalf of an entire group of Christian brothers and sisters, by all means please take great care in the things you say and the ways you say them. Pray about it first, just between you and God; you’re going to need his help. Prepare the congregational prayer in advance; write down the words. Practice it; know what you’re going to say when you dare to address the Creator of Heaven and Earth.

Above all, remember that you are praying on behalf of the group. And that sanctifies you. It transforms you. Because when you intercede for others before the throne of God and focus more on their needs than your own, you are being like our Christ who always lives to intercede for us.

Peace,

Allan

Homothumadon

Our church at Central experienced homothumadon here together yesterday morning. Homothumadon is my second favorite Greek word from the New Testament, right behind koinonia. Homothumadon appears throughout the book of Acts to describe a fiery unity. It means passionate togetherness; emotional and active unity; intense and fevered oneness.

We had that here yesterday when we prayed to God together for our dear sister Judy Newton.

I had only anticipated a few of the people sitting around Lanny and Judy would actually gather around her and place their arms around her and hold her hands while we lifted up a congregational prayer on her behalf. She was diagnosed Friday afternoon with a couple of brain lesions in an out-of-the-blue, ambush, rip-the-rug-out-from-under-you, punch to the stomach, what-in-the-world-do-we-do-now kind of way. I was ready to lead that congregational prayer for her yesterday morning, but before I could start, people began getting up and walking over to Lanny and Judy and crowding around her in a spontaneous show of compassion and solidarity.

They came from all over our worship center. Those immediately behind and next to Judy wrapped their arms around her. But then a few people stood up to join them. And then a few more people. They came from a couple of rows over and from clear across the sanctuary. From the front and back and the middle. Young and old. People who’ve known Lanny and Judy for thirty years and people who’ve never met them. Men and women were crawling over people in their own pews to reach Judy. It’s a “preacher’s count,” I acknowledge, but I’m guessing almost a hundred of Judy’s brothers and sisters made their way to be with her during that prayer.

And I was so inspired. Yes, I thought, this is not doing church; this is being church.

As I watched the people stream toward Judy and surround her with love, I also became somewhat intimidated by my pressing task. As I waited and waited and waited while these people kept coming and coming and coming, I began to feel wholly inadequate for wording a prayer that would properly honor these folks, most of whom I still barely know, and these relationships, all of which I haven’t a clue. How could my prayer do it justice? I felt compelled to call on somebody else to lead it. How can my prayer match what I’m seeing?

When I finally started praying, it happened. Homothumadon. Unity in thought. Unity in mind. Unity in purpose. Unity in prayer. I wasn’t the one praying. We were all praying. We were all saying the “amen.” We were all together speaking with groans only the Holy Spirit can communicate to the Father. It was audible. It was genuine. It was together. We were in a fox hole together, as one, lifting this dear sister to the only God who can do anything about her circumstance. We were communicating to the gracious One who is sovereign over pain and disease. We were lifting Judy to the author of life and the destroyer of death. In faith. In desperation. In trust. As one.

We were all blessed by the prayer. Not the words of the prayer which, again, had everything to do with God’s Divine Spirit and nothing to do with me. We were blessed by the unity of the church. I know Lanny and Judy were encouraged and blessed. I know I was inspired. If you were here with us yesterday morning, I know you were moved, too. We all grew together yesterday morning. We matured spiritually as we considered Judy’s needs greater than our own. We grew together as family. And we became more childlike, more Christ like, as we depended solely on God.

E. M. Bounds said prayer does not prepare us for greater works; it is the greater work.

Judy is set for surgery on her brain at 8:00 tomorrow morning, Tuesday October 11.

Pray.

Allan

The Joy of One

The apostle Paul changed his travel plans in order to spare the Corinthian Christians a great deal of pain. “For if I grieve you,” he writes, “who is left to make me glad?” Paul says he didn’t want to be distressed by the very people who are supposed to make him rejoice (2 Corinthians 1:23-2:4).

Paul really loved these people.

Despite their problems and spiritual immaturity, Paul really had a deep affection for this group. And he didn’t want to hurt them. Not only that, he wanted to do everything he could to please them. He was willing and eager to inconvenience himself for their sake.

He longed to “work with them for their joy” because his own joy was so tightly wound up in theirs. Paul understood that, in the Body of Christ, the joy of one is the joy of the other. Their happiness made Paul happy. Their gladness led directly to Paul’s rejoicing. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

When we were planning a bi-lingual worship assembly a couple of years ago, I was confronted by a well-meaning brother who couldn’t comprehend how singing songs in Spanish would be an encouragement to us Anglos. If our worship time is to be a time of edification, he reasoned, how is singing some of our songs in Spanish going to edify the English speakers? How does that lift me up? My response went this way: Do you think that hearing 900 white brothers and sisters in Christ sing a song of praise and encouragement in their native language will give a lift to the 40 or so Spanish-speakers in our assembly that day? Will it make them feel good? Will it make them feel valued and appreciated? Will they experience acceptance in our efforts to sing in their language? Will they feel joy?

If the answer is ‘yes’ — and it is — then doesn’t that give you great joy, too? Doesn’t it make your heart happy to know that a group of your brothers and sisters is encouraged and gladened by something you did? Does that not edify you at all? Of course it does. In the Body of Christ, the joy of one is the joy of the other.

Yes, we are called to sacrifice for others. Yes, we are commanded to put the needs of others ahead of our own. Absolutely, we are directed by Scripture and the way of our Lord to serve our brothers and sisters. But that never means one of the things we have to sacrifice is our own happiness. Our joy is never compromised just because we’re taking care of somebody else. In Christ, our mature understanding is that our happiness results from making others happy. Our greatest needs are truly met, more deeply met, when we work to meet the needs of others.

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Peja and Terry got their looks in Game One. Dirk got the ball on the blocks. And J. J. penetrated the lane as always. It’s just that the shots didn’t fall. The threes were too strong off the back of the rim. Dirk seemed like he was rushing things. And Barea’s little running teardrops didn’t…well…drop. I hate to think that it was unfamiliarity with the Eastern Conference arena they only visit once a year. I hate to imagine it was a matter of not being comfortable with the Heat’s gym. That just sounds weak.

But that’s really the only hope we have, right?

Hopefully it’s just as simple as the Mavs’ shots didn’t fall. It was an off shooting night. Everybody regains their touch tonight. It has to be that way. Because if it’s something more than that — LeBron’s defense, Chandler’s shaky confidence, Jet choking in another big series, Dirk’s finger, a soft Mavs’ interior, Miami’s fresher and faster legs — Big D is in big trouble.

Peace,

Allan

People People

My Jesus is a people person. He absolutely loves a crowd.

Yeah, there were times when our Lord went alone into the desert or climbed a mountain to pray. But it’s much more typical in the Gospels for Jesus to be interacting with people. The eyewitnesses paint a picture of Jesus constantly mixing it up with the multitudes, meeting strangers on the road, hanging out with family and friends. Mostly Jesus is known for eating and drinking with gusto in the homes of sinners and saints, with the prostitutes and the Pharisees, men and women, Gentiles and Jews.

Praying with people. Worshiping with people. Walking with people. Fishing with people. Teaching and debating with people. Laughing and crying with people.

Jesus was a supremely social, communal person. Whatever it was that the Father called the Son to do, he had no interest in doing it by himself. Just a casual glance at Jesus is enough to tell us today that we are fully living as God-created humans, not in our solitude and isolation, but in our relationships and connections with others.

We are people people.

We need God, yes. And we so desperately need one another. You can’t do this faith solo.

Peace,

Allan

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