Selfish Saints

          About two weeks ago, I read an intriguing diatribe on American missionaries and missionaries to America. The author raised the question of why Americans feel the need to travel overseas to risky, unhealthy places to do missionary work when horrible conditions and unimaginable atrocities greet us each day on our own doorstep. Personally, I understand and fully support those God has called to foreign missions.  The call of God is, or should be, impossible to ignore.  However, not unlike the author, I fail to comprehend why American Christians who do not feel called to foreign missions fail to hear the call to be missionaries at home. 

          I wonder why.  Why are there no missionaries to America?  Are all the Christians blind to the starvation, disease, disregard for human life, and desperate need for Jesus around them?  Do they assume that because there is a church on every corner every citizen knows Jesus?  And do they truly believe that the only ones called to seek the lost are those called to third world countries?  Of course not.

          With news channels running in every imaginable place, magazines and newspapers lining waiting rooms and checkout stands, and the wonderful invention of the Internet we are more aware of what is going on around us than ever before.  The law of averages assures us that not every citizen knows Jesus--or even about him.  And if we were to be really honest with ourselves, we would have to admit the issue isn't that we don't feel called, but that we don't want to go out and actively seek the lost because we have other things we would rather be doing.

          And that's the answer.  We are selfish saints.  People who don their self righteous robes and assume that because they sing in the choir and serve on the church board they have done their part for the Kingdom.  If a lost soul wanders in to church service on Sunday, that's wonderful, but there is no inclination to go out and labor to truly influence people for Jesus Christ.  We are more fascinated with the temporal than the eternal, happy to keep the precious story of life changing redemption to ourselves rather than share it.  Yes, our churches are full of selfish saints. 

          Perhaps today's special variety of Christian hasn't read the passage that says, "...He that winneth souls is wise." (Proverbs 11:30 KJV)  Maybe the newer Bible translations don't read that way.  Or perhaps the blanket command, "Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel..." (Mark 16:15 KJV) doesn't truly apply.  Perhaps, when it's all said and done, we really are simply selfish saints who don't want to dirty our hands on the unwashed masses.  Perhaps we are too scared of being seen socializing with those whose reputation is less sterling than ours.  Maybe, just maybe, we selfishly love ourselves, our lifestyles, our things more than we love those who need Jesus. 

          It's enough.  We are getting nothing done.  The cycle must be broken.  The selfishness must end.  We must stop living as if nothing but ourselves, our families, and our social circles exist.  We must start living for eternity.  We must heed the call. We must be missionaries.

          But what does 21st century soul winning look like?  How do we do that in a society that has changed so much since the days of knocking on doors with the Good News and passing out tracts?  How do we show someone they need Jesus in a world of political correctness?  How do we show them what knowing Jesus looks like? Try this. Put down the  electronics and get off the couch.  Get out of your house, out of your social circle, out of your comfort zone.  Go out and do what Jesus did. 

          Feed people--remember the loaves and fishes that fed 5,000? (John 6)  Visit the sick--imagine being the blind man healed when Jesus took time to stop and visit. (Luke 18)  Have dinner with outcasts--think Zaccheus. (Luke 19)  Offer words of spiritual life to those who ask even though they may not immediately heed them--consider the rich young ruler. (Mark 10)  Weep over your country, your state, your city, your world. (Luke 19:41)  Give of yourself.

          Sadly, selfish saints can't do any of this.  You can't win souls by being self-absorbed.  You can't selfishly hoard your time, resources, or energy.  You can't.  You don't dare, because you have been called. So get out there.  Socialize.  Evangelize.  Be faithful.  Be consistent.  (II Timothy 4:2)  Be selfless.  Be a saint of the true variety.  Knowing this, "He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." (Psalms 126:6 KJV)

          Heaven will be filled with the fruit of selfless service.  How full will it be from your labors?

Jesus Is Praying For You

     Recently, while enduring yet another spectacular spiritual battle, I came across the passage in Luke 22 where Jesus discusses with Simon Peter his vulnerability to Satan's attacks and reveals that Peter would eventually deny even knowing Jesus.  The story of Peter's denial is quite familiar, but the preceding verses are the ones that really caught my attention.  In Luke 22:31-32, Jesus says to Peter, "...Satan hath desired to have you...but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not:..." (KJV)  I needed those words that day.  I need them every day.
 
     I am often in a spot similar to Peter.  Satan tirelessly attempts to convince me that God has abandoned me.  He beats up one side of my soul and then the other.  The battle seems endless.  The outcome means everything to both of us.  There are no tied scores, only wins and losses.  My strength wanes.  My faith grows threadlike. My courage dwindles to barely an ember.  On my own I don't have the energy to pull out a win. In a final push to emerge victorious, I throw a glance over my shoulder, searching for aid.  With enormous elation and nearly palpable relief I realize that reinforcements have been there all along.  Jesus was already there.  Before the battle started, Jesus was praying for me.  He was interceding on my behalf that in this moment my faith, though stretched to the minutest thread, would continue to hold.  And it did.  I am fiercely relieved to say with the Apostle Paul, "...I have kept the faith." (II Timothy 4:7 KJV)  But I can only say that because Jesus, who could be doing so many other things, took the time to pray for me.

     He doesn't have to, you know.  There are a lot of things in this world that seem so much more important, so much more in need of God's attention. Praying for me seems like such an insignificant thing to do in the face of rampaging epidemics, bloody wars, horrifying crime, or disreputable politics.  It's humbling.  I mean so much to him that he makes sure to go before me and cover my future in prayer.

     It's not just me.  For 12 years I've been sending my son to a different state to visit his father for weeks at a time.  My mind flashes with the horrible things that can happen to children, the ways teenagers can be pulled in the wrong direction, the lack of a strong Christian influence.  Immobilizing terror begins to set in and then I remember that Jesus is already there ahead of him, loving him more than I do, praying for him, and helping him fight his battles.  Does it eliminate the concern?  No.  But the terror is replaced with peaceful trust that the God who loves me too much to let Satan have me, loves my child just as much.  Jesus is praying for him too.

     And you are just as important as me and my children.  You are the bird specially fed by God's hand, the field lily clothed more beautifully than kings, (Luke 12:24, 27) the apple of God's eye avenged by his hand (Zechariah 2:8-9).  You are imperative to the Kingdom.  You are special.  You are precious.  You are not alone.  Jesus is praying for you. 

     However, like Peter and I, you are also immensely vulnerable to Satan's attacks.  His desire to have you is an all consuming fire that endlessly drives him to fight for you.  He will do anything to get you.  In the middle of your normalcy something will spring up to distract you, pull you away, or tempt you to change direction  You are powerless on your own.  You have no strength.  You are incapable of deflecting Satan's advances by yourself.  Yet you are immeasurably blessed because Jesus sees the battle before it happens and has already prayed a preemptive prayer on your behalf. The strength you need to defeat Satan is already there, you just have to tap into it.  Victory comes through the knowledge that, in spite of all the other things he could be preoccupied with, Jesus is praying for you.  That is how important you are to him. That's how much he loves you.  (Romans 8:34-35, 37-39)

     So the next time you are surrounded by Satan's traps and think you'll never make it out alive, remember this--Jesus is praying for you, your family, your needs, your future.  He never stops.  Know it.  Believe it.  Rest in it.  (Romans 8:34)  His prayers mean you can find infinite strength in your moment of weakness, amazing comfort when you are beset by life's trials, and blessed peace in the midst of your storms.  What phenomenal love toward such undeserving individuals.  Comfort.  Strength.  Hope.  Peace.  All because the God of the past and present has already been to the future and covered your path with prayer. 

No Looking Back

You may find it amazing to know that I consistently have to tell my teenaged child to watch where he is walking.  Seriously.  Why does he try to look behind him while walking forward?  It always ends badly.  People get trampled, his feet get tangled up and he falls, he randomly walks into things.  You would think that after a couple of these episodes he would have figured it out.  I am still patiently (or not so much) awaiting this event.  Hopefully he will soon realize that looking backward throws up roadblocks and halts his forward momentum.

Sound familiar?  Not the part about my son.  The part where we forget that looking back isn’t such a great idea.  What good can come from looking at the past, reconsidering our shortcomings, or just casting a longing glance over our shoulder at the way things used to be?  What exactly do we miss about the past or do we still long to hold onto? Where there are always great memories to cherish and intense gratefulness for where Jesus has brought us from, constant looking back indicates a state of longing for what used to be.  It’s hazardous to your health, not just physically and emotionally, but spiritually as well.

Because of that, it behooves us to remember the little passage in Luke 17:32 that simply says, “Remember Lot’s wife.”  You know the story. (Genesis 18-19) Angels go into Sodom and Gomorrah hours before their demise to rescue Abraham’s nephew, Lot, and his family.  The angels of God miraculously hold back the evil residents of Sodom, allowing the family to escape the coming judgment.  As Lot, his wife, and his daughters are escorted from the city by their Heavenly rescuers, the angels tell them to run for their lives and issue the specific mandate, “Don’t look back.”  It seems so simple.  Just keep looking forward, keep walking, don’t look back.  Yet Lot’s wife couldn’t keep from glancing back.  And at what?  Sodom and Gomorrah were so horrible, so depraved that God could not find even ten righteous people in them. (Genesis 18:32) What was so glamorous about those towns that she was willing to throw her life away for one last glance? 

It’s easy to judge Lot’s wife because we know what happened to her in the end, she looked back and became a pillar of salt. (Genesis 19:26) It’s not so easy to look at ourselves and see the same thing, the same backward glance, the same desire to hold on to something from our past. And it’s just as deadly for our souls as it was for her life.  Jesus tells us that “No man, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God”. (Luke 9:62 KJV) If you are looking back you aren't ready to go forward. Your heart’s not completely interested in what’s ahead of you. That means something you hold more dear is behind you.  It means you are willing to give up the promise of the future with God for an un-promised re-run of moments past. It means something else is more important than Jesus. It begs the question, “What’s behind you that’s more important than getting to Heaven?”

What’s holding you back?  What's stopping you from starting? An old habit? Ungodly friends? A questionable lifestyle?  Maybe it’s a situation you failed to forgive.  Maybe there’s some bitterness, anger, pain you don’t want to let go.  What’s got your attention?  What’s tempting you to throw your faith overboard, toss Heaven out the window?  Is it worth it?  Is it worth eternal punishment? Is it more exciting than an eternal reward? Is it more important to you than seeing Jesus face to face? 

When I was a child, there was a common statement, “I don’t want to miss Heaven for the world.”  I have no idea who coined the phrase, or where it might have originated.  I don't recall ever knowing, but I know this—I don’t want to miss Heaven for the world!  There’s nothing here that is more alluring, more exciting, or more important than getting to Heaven and seeing Jesus.  I hope you feel the same way.  I hope your eyes are fixed steadfastly forward.  I hope that with the Apostle Paul and me you can honestly say, “…Forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:13-14 KJV) No looking back.  No turning back.  Just “straight on ‘til morning”.

  

Closets of the Heart

           What’s in your heart?  I mean, what’s really in your heart?  You know, back behind all the pretty, appropriate stuff you want people to see.  Way in the back, where you’ve got the door with three locks firmly closed and bolted.  What’s in there? Why is it closed up?  What are you hiding? Do you even remember? When was the last time you looked in there?  Most importantly, have you ever let Jesus look in there?

            As Elihu, one of Job’s supposed friends, is waxing eloquent in an attempt to prove that Job has erred against God, he makes a statement that is imperative for every unopened closet of the heart. Elihu says, “…it is meet to be said unto God…that which I see not teach thou me: if I have done iniquity, I will do it no more.” (Job 34:31-32 KJV) The concept brought me up short.  Do we truly not know our own hearts?  Turns out the answer is “no.”  We hide things from ourselves, fail to call ourselves on our own sins, and excuse uncontrolled anger and hate under the guise that if we direct it at something God hates then it’s okay.  We whip out a measuring stick and use it on everyone except ourselves, consistently pretending to be a never-ending fount of virtue even if our words and actions don't live up to it. Well, I say enough with the hiding and skulking around. You can’t sneak your way into Heaven. It’s time to let God show us what he sees in our hearts.  And time to let him clean it out. 

            The fact is, heart closets collect things. Past hurts. Injustices, both real and imagined. Frustrations, embarrassments, disagreements, upsets. We stash them all in the closet and they become a mosh pit of nastiness.  They stew and fester becoming enormous vats of anger, hurt, bitterness, jealousy and hate.  We hang on to them so long that it becomes easier to just close and bolt the door and hope no one notices rather than haul them out and deal with them. Or perhaps we think we have dealt with them because they seem to be under control. But while they may stay dormant for a period of time, they will eventually erupt into our words, actions, and attitudes.  For some reason, even then, we tend to push them back in and add another lock to the door.  I don’t know why.  Really, who wants to hang on to that mess?  And who truly believes they can hide it from God?

            You can’t. He sees everything. (Proverbs 15:3) You can’t hide it from those around you either.  It seeps out. In Matthew 12:34, Jesus says that our mouths spew out what our hearts are hiding.  If we speak hate, then hate inhabits our hearts.  If we speak love, then love dwells within.  And it’s not just in what we say either.  It’s in how we act.  Are you showing hate or love to others?  Are you shunning or welcoming the lost?  Do remember the words of Matthew 7:20-21 that say your actions will tell whether or not you are truly of God and that not everyone who says “Lord, Lord” will make it to Heaven? If Jesus doesn’t saturate your life, your words, and your actions then perhaps you need to check into where he’s really living.

 See, Jesus wants your whole heart.  He won’t accept less. And since Galatians 5:22-23 tells us that the fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, meekness, goodness, faith and temperance, it’s pretty easy to determine what should be found in our hearts and evident in our lives. Satan wants your whole heart too, but he’s willing to take any corner he can get because he just needs a space to get things brewing. And that’s how all those other things, like envy, strife, wrath, and hatred get started. (Galatians 5:19-21) Be aware, the two sides can’t coexist. They won’t.  Either you love or you hate. You must choose...God or Satan. (Matthew 6:24)  You can’t have one residing in the living room and one hiding out in the closet.  It just won’t work.

 So, I ask you again, what’s in your heart?  Are you willing to check it out?  Can you take Jesus in every crevice, corner, and closet? Does the light and love of Jesus fill your heart? Or are you busy installing lock number three? If you are, don't waste your time. Ecclesiastes 12:14 says God will reveal and judge every secret thing, so you might as well open that closet and let God clean it out today.  You’ll be nothing but better for the cleansing. 

The Empty Tomb Is…Full?

           Have you ever wondered how it felt to travel to the tightly sealed, closely guarded tomb of the man you believe to be the Christ only to find it open and empty?  The Luke 24 account describes the women who had come to fragrance the tomb as being “much perplexed” (v. 4), but, considering human nature, it seems there would have been some other emotions as well.  What did they feel?  Fear?  Awe?  Joy?  Did it sink in right away that their faith was not misplaced?  And did they notice that the tomb, though empty of Jesus’ body, held more than those old burial linens?  Did they notice that the empty tomb was full?

            They had just come through the worst day of their lives.  Their best friend, the man they had walked with, talked with, learned from, and leaned on had been brutally ripped from their lives.  They could do nothing to change it.  Their hearts were shattered. If their belief was true, He was the Son of God. The world was now forever changed. They entered the tomb only to find it empty and their hearts leapt in their chests.  As they stared at one another in anxious amazement, two men in white appeared and queried why they were there.  Before they could respond, the men spoke those words that the women desperately hoped for and would forever echo through the annals of time, “He is not here, but is risen.” (Luke 24:6)  It was as they believed.  He was The Savior.  And though his body wasn’t there, the tomb wasn’t empty. It was full.  Full of promise, hope, grace.  Full of love and redemption.  Full of proof.

            You see, the empty grave means everything.  Jesus rose from the dead.  It proves everything he said is true.  It proves everything he did was an act of Almighty God. It means God is a God of mercy—remember the thief on the cross. (Luke 23:39-43) It means God is a God of grace—ask the woman washing Jesus’ feet with precious ointment. (Luke 7:44-48) It means God is a God of unlimited power—consider the man delivered of the unclean spirit who claimed to be “Legion”. (Mark 5:2-14) It means every healing truly happened; every sinful heart that asked was cleansed.  It means that hope, help, and healing are available to all.  It means salvation is free.  It means unlimited love, unending grace. 

That empty grave means God’s not dead.  It means that the God who spun the earth for the very first time, who created you in his image, who sent his Son to earth as a baby and offered him up as a sacrifice for your sin and mine is still alive and working.  His hand isn’t shortened, his ear isn’t heavy, he hasn’t stopped performing miracles, and his grace hasn’t run out.  It means all those events recorded in the Bible are real and true.  It means we serve a living, resurrected Savior. 

            This Easter, I hope you consider the fullness of the empty tomb. Reconnect with the reality of grace. Cast your confidence in the living God who offers you his pardon, his peace, his presence.  And remember, because the Savior's body isn't there, everything you need is.  The empty tomb means you can have full life in Christ.   Accept it.  Believe it.  And when I say to you, “He is risen.” May you respond with a resounding, “He is risen, indeed.” 

           What does the fullness of the empty tomb mean to you?

Finding Discontent

Finding Discontent

Matthew 5:6

Since the dawn of time humanity has scrambled for the elusive feeling of contentment.  Eve was evidently discontent with her level of knowledge, so when she found the fruit of the forbidden tree would make her wiser, she ate it. The Children of Israel thought contentment was in getting what they wanted, in their way, on their timetable. So they decided to do their own thing instead of God’s and ended up wandering the desert.  We are not so very different.  Our selfish “now” society continues to believe that contentment can be bought, finagled, or earned.  So the discontented search for contentment rages on.  Adults are constantly striving for it.  Kids think they are entitled to it.  For some ridiculous reason, everyone seems to think contentment is found in possessions, social status, money or fame. 

Have you ever stopped to ask yourself, “How content am I?” and followed up with, “In what does my contentment lie?” If we are honest, we realize that contentment does not come from staggering piles of possessions, the number of friends on your Facebook page, or the respectful adulation of your peers. If we look hard enough, we may even realize that being content isn’t always best. Recently, when posed with the question myself, I realized that, although I may be content with my material possessions, I am indeed consumed with voracious discontent.   It is consistent.  It is persistent. And it is resistant to the things that try to dull it, eradicate it, or distract it. It is not the possessions kind of discontent. No, it’s the holy kind.  The kind of discontent that caused Jacob, as he wrestled with the angel of God at Penial (Genesis 32:26) to cry out, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”

An interesting story, that. In the Genesis 32 account, it tells us that Jacob, after his meeting with Esau, sent his family, servants, and belongings across the brook and stayed alone through the night. During the night an angel came and wrestled with and at (v.22-24) nearly dawn, the angel said, “Let me go.  It’s nearly day break.” And Jacob said (pardon my paraphrase), “Nope. Not without a blessing.”  And he got one.  Do you ever feel that way?  When you feel spiritually dry, complacent, lacking zeal, do you hit your knees and say to God, “I’m not done here until you move in me, change me, bless me.”  Do you find yourself filled with holy discontent? 

 I often do.  I hope you do too.  I find myself consistently praying the words of David in Psalm 63:8, “My soul follows hard after thee…”  The words speak of hot pursuit.  Unwavering determination.  Intense hunger.  Earlier in the same Psalm David verbally paints how he is seeking God, how his soul thirsts for God, how he longs for God as a man parched in the desert.  These word pictures embody the concept of holy discontent. It is not mediocre Christianity.  It is not a “ho-hum” attitude about God.  It is not a secondary activity.  It is a constant desire, an intense thirst, a consuming hunger for more of God.  It’s seeking him and finding him, and then seeking him more.  It is never having enough, never being close enough; it is following hard after God.

We should all be so desperately discontent.  It is paramount to our Christian walk.  When we start to feel content with where we are spiritually, we let up.  The zeal lessens.  Complacency sets in. The things of life—even the good, appropriate things—crowd in and we are in extreme danger of drifting off course. For me, holy discontent is the path to contentment. When I am discontent with where I am spiritually, I am consistently seeking God, drawing closer to him, growing in him, and allowing him to make me the Godly person he wants me to be.  In seeking after Godliness, I find contentment.

In I Timothy 6, the Apostle Paul tells Timothy not to listen to those who do not preach the true doctrine of Jesus Christ unto godliness.  Along with a list of things these individuals are incorrect about, they believe that gain equals godliness.  Sounds familiar….things really haven’t changed! But then Paul writes in verse 6, “Godliness with contentment is great gain…” and in verse 8 he goes on to state that if you have food and clothing, you should be content.  It means that we should be constantly striving to maintain and increase godliness in our lives, be grateful for what we have, and ultimately remember that the search for contentment outside of Godliness is a treasure-less search.  Holy discontent keeps us urgently seeking God’s face, constantly striving to have more of Jesus, and regularly praying, “I will not let you go until you bless me.”

Have you been there?  Have you found yourself spiritually dry, lacking joy, complacent?  Have you suddenly realized the zeal is gone?  Did you look up and notice that you weren’t in that special place discussed in Psalm 91:1 where it says, “…He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High, shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty?”  Did you drift a little off course?  Did you get out of His shadow?  I’ve been there.  We all have.  The question is this, when you realized you were off course did you find yourself filled will holy discontent?  And did you rush to Jesus and beg a blessing? 

My inward questioning about my contentment made me realize that my holy discontent was not confined to my own spirituality. I am discontent with things I see around me. You are too.  I hear people all over the place discussing politics, education, drugs, gangs, poverty and myriad other annoyances about our world. What do you see in this world that makes you feel discontent?  Homelessness? Immorality?  Abuse? Let me tell you what I see. I see people lost in sin and degradation.  Wanderers looking for hope, help, home.  I see physically destructive teens, kids on drugs, and eight year old gang members.  I see people who have given up on themselves because no one made the effort to believe in them and bolster their courage.  I see addicts, prostitutes, abusers.  I see wasted years. I see prisons overflowing with individuals who have made bad choices.  I see hate, violence, anger, prejudice. 

These are not the most appalling things I see.  For just on the outside fringes of these clusters of wandering souls, I see churches content to stay outside the fray.  I see parishioners in their Sunday finery who are all too happy to continue their “us four and no more” mentality.  They sit in church and give lengthy diatribes on how awful things are and how surely the end must be nigh, but then they go merrily off to lunch, or Grandma’s house, or the grocery store and never stop to think of how many souls would be eternally lost if it all ended today. I see no movement to do anything about it.  I see no burden for the lost.  I see no outreach.  I see no one willing to sacrifice their time or resources to make a difference.

I am shocked that they would be so complacent about missing out on what I know to be a fantastic reward.   Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, I did a couple years at a Bible college in the heart of Cincinnati, Ohio.  From our windows, up on that hill, you could pretty much see the “Over the Rhine” area—the place where the city had attempted to corral its “untouchables”.  It was while there that I had some of the most rewarding service moments of my life.  We passed out tracts, had several downtown missions where we held Sunday services, and, my personal favorite, a jail ministry. One of the staff members also served as a chaplain at the county jail.  I was blessed to be part of his team of service workers.  We visited the jail every Sunday morning and held services on different floors.  Some Sundays I would continue with him in the afternoon and evening when we would visit individuals who had requested a private visit with the chaplain.  All of it altered my view, but those individual visits changed my life. 

In those visits, we saw those people as just that—people.  Lost?  For sure. But still people. We sat there and talked and prayed with an AIDS ridden prostitute, a drug addict mother, white collar offenders, and everyone in between. Each was loved, valued, ministered to and prayed over.  That chaplain taught me the most important lesson of my life.  We are all just people, no matter what we are, what we have done, or where we’ve been.  We are all desperately loved by God.  And we are all commanded by God to love one another—no exclusions.  No prejudice. No hate.  No anger. So when I look out and see that we are not indiscriminately reaching out to gather the lost, I am overwhelmed with holy discontent. 

I wish I could rejoin that group of ministers at the Hamilton County Justice Center.  Sadly, I cannot.  But I can do something where I am.  So can you.  We just have to decide to do it. If your excuse is “I don’t know what to do”…ask God to show you.  If your excuse is “I don’t know where to serve”…ask God to guide you.  If you don’t feel a particular burden to serve…ask God to give you one.  Don’t just fill a pew, mark your time, and think you won’t be held responsible for not fulfilling your part of Jesus’ command in Mark 16:15, “Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.” 

            And don’t be deceived into thinking that he only meant go out to other places besides America.  For some, it does mean that. For all, it means go out of your comfort zone, out of your social circle, out of your way to make sure that everyone has the opportunity to meet Jesus, to know his love, and to experience forgiveness for sins.  You are a missionary.  You can see people dying around you.  You can see a world full of sin.  Don’t just sit and bemoan the state of society.  Don’t just wallow in holy discontent—get off your duff and do something!

            That’s really the crux of it all, isn’t it? Do something!!  When you feel discontent with where you are spiritually—and I hope you do often—do something about it.  Read more Scripture.  Read some Philip Yancey, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Brennan Manning, Joyce Meyer.  Spend more time in prayer.  Pray for a blessing, but don’t stop there.  Pray for the people in the accident you saw on the way home from work.  Pray for the homeless guy on the corner. Pray for the kids who visit the local youth center today.  Pray for people who think they don’t need prayer.  Then go out and do something for Jesus. Be about the Father’s business. Follow the command of Luke 19:13, and occupy till He comes. 

            I hope we do it.  May we refuse to settle for smoldering coals.  May we be consumed by fires of holy discontent that burn so brightly, so hotly that we are forced closer to Jesus, more deeply burdened for our fellow man, and constantly challenged to do more, be more than we ever have before.  May we, like the Apostle Paul, “Press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God…” (Philippians 3:14)  May we be laborers together with Christ.  May we always be filled with holy discontent. May we hear its call and respond with Samuel, “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.”

 What is your holy discontent urging you to do?  Will you do it? 

       

    

**This is a message I presented at my church, posted here as promised for those who could not make it...and for anyone else whom God chooses to touch through it.  Blessings. 

           

...And Just In Case You Missed It…

           I hope when you read this month’s blog post, you truly believed in the depths of your soul that Jesus loves you.  I hope you have spent the time between now and then resting in the knowledge of that love.  I hope the Devil has been trounced at his little game of whispering lies about how unlikely it is that Jesus loves you.  But just in case you didn’t believe it when you read it, or the glow has started to fade, I’d like to share with you the experience I had only a short time after I posted that blog.

            After posting, I decided to read the Crucifixion/Easter story as written in each of the Gospels.  Sort of a comparison so I didn’t miss anything. I started with Matthew 26.  I read about the woman who washed Jesus’ feet, about the disciples following Jesus’ commands to secure a place for Passover.  I read about the Passover supper and how Judas confirmed that he was the one who would betray Jesus.  I continued on through Peter’s indignant response that he would never deny Christ.  I followed them into the Garden of Gethsemane and went with Jesus as he begged the Father to find another form of redemption for mankind.  The disciples slept through it.  I heard the words of Jesus as he accepted God’s will for man’s redemption.  My stomach tied in knots.

            And then it happened.  A multitude led by Judas arrived on the scene.  They were carrying swords and spears as though expecting a horrendous fight. (As if they were any match for the Son of God should he choose to put up a fight!)  Judas came forward, called Jesus “Master”, and kissed him.  And just like that, the ultimate act of betrayal was done.

 In that moment, I hate Judas for what he is doing.  And though I’ve read them before, I am thoroughly startled by Jesus’ next words, “Friend, wherefore art thou come?” (Matthew 26:50 KJV) Seriously?  Friend?  It’s not like Jesus didn’t know why he was there.  He wasn’t caught off guard.  Would it not be more appropriate, more honest to yell “Traitor”?  Or better yet, strike him mute, or leprous, even just reduce his credibility. Doesn’t he deserve some sort of horrific punishment?  But no, out of a heart of unwavering love Jesus calls him “Friend”. 

            By this point, tears are flowing freely down my cheeks as I am completely overwhelmed by how much Jesus loves us.  When we have thrown propriety to the wind, tossed our integrity overboard, or smothered our conscience for the 9 millionth time, Jesus still looks at us with love and calls us “Friend”. How amazing is that!! 

            So there you have it, in case you missed it the first time…Jesus loves you.  Read the story in Matthew 26, see yourself in Judas’ spot, hear Jesus call you “Friend”, and know with abiding assurance…yes, Jesus loves you!!