For Such a Time as This

Is there a more dramatic Old Testament story than the book of Esther? All the elements are there: romance (of a sort), intrigue, suspense, hidden identity, death and destruction, payback - and even a few lessons on how to handle a somewhat unapproachable monarch. But if you’ve been going to church awhile and heard even a few sermons from that book, you’re probably most familiar with the pointed question that cousin Mordecai sent to queen Esther. He was urging her to lay her life on the line and go, unsummoned, to the king and plead for the lives of fellow Jews throughout the realm:

“Do not think that because you are in the king’s house you alone of all the Jews will escape. For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:13-14 NIV).

I dare say FAC is also featured in our own saga of suspense, spiritual warfare, and imminent death and destruction, with eternal lives on the line and evil forces bent on silencing God’s chosen people. We were reminded Sunday that we have become a sort of “flagship church” in the area, a place to which individuals and churches look for guidance and resources and vital aid. God has allowed us to be, for some, a sort of “Esther.” That’s not a cause for pride or self-congratulations; in fact, Mordecai speaks to us, too:

“Do not think that because you are large and well-resourced that you will avoid struggles and hostility and the schemes of the enemy. Do not rest on your laurels and expect respect and easy treatment. There is an evil plot continually unfolding, for Satan and his forces are at work in the community and the world you are trying to impact for Christ. If you remain silent, if you rest on your laurels, if you are reluctant to use your resources for the sake of others, if you refuse to lay your life on the line for them, God will come to their aid – but you will die a slow death because you selfishly protected your life… and who knows but that God has prospered FAC for such a time as this?

You might want to read the little book of Esther this week, and consider a couple things:

1. It’s exciting to pull into a packed parking lot every week, and to choose from a number of inviting options for discipleship training and outreach and fellowship (it’s like sitting at the king’s table!). But do we FAC pewsitters think about the reason God has allowed us such privilege? Do we assume it’s a reward for our obedience, given for our personal comfort? Or do we hear any desperate voices calling us to lay down our lives and take up their cause through the resources and opportunities we’ve been given here? (See Luke 12:47-48).

2. It’s easy to sink back into the crowd in a church the size of FAC, and think, There are so many dedicated, hard-working people here. I see a crying need, but surely somebody will get on that - the pastors…the lay counselors… the Benevolence Team… But what if we have come to the kingdom for just such a need? What if we will step up with the Spirit-given courage of Esther, and offer ourselves for such a time as this? What if we do it now? (see 1 Cor. 15:58; Eph. 5:15-17; 1 Jn. 3:17-18)

Stuck!

I know what “stuck” feels like, and I’ll bet you do, too. Usually I’m only bogged down for a couple of days or a few weeks, until a mood passes or a problem is resolved. But occasionally, like a rock in a swiftly flowing stream, life streams past but I’m not budging. I’m stuck.

God goes to extra lengths, in those times, to free me and get me moving once again. In fact, one year God gave me the following as my verse for the entire year: “But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:13,14 NIV).

He also helped dislodge me by showing me how much better the future would be than the past to which I clung. At first I was skeptical. How can we know that the best in this life isn’t behind us, that it’s really yet to come? He gave me four reasons:

1. He goes before (Jn. 10:3,4,10). Wherever He leads us, He goes before us, preparing an abundant life no matter the circumstances. And we’d better be up and following - wherever He is has to be the best place possible!
2. He fills tomorrow with His promises and provisions – everything we need to live as His child and be like Him (2 Pt. 1:3,4). Of the sometimes-ominous future He says, “In this world you will have trouble, but take heart! I have overcome the world (or, as is written in the margin of my Bible, “I have defanged and declawed it)! (Jn. 16:33).
3. Tomorrow we will know Him better and be more like Him. The Holy Spirit is continually making us more and more like Christ, changing us “from glory to ever-increasing glory” (2 Cor. 3:18).
4. Tomorrow lies closer to reunion with God and our eternal reward. And on this pilgrimage to heaven, we go “from strength to strength,” increasing in spiritual power until we finally meet God face to face (Ps. 84:5-7).

It all adds up to one glorious fact, true no matter how Satan tries to hold us back: “The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn, shining ever brighter till the full light of day” (Prov. 4:18 NIV). It’s all enough to get our spiritual blood pumping, our lead feet up and moving, our souls growing in glory and power, as we follow Jesus into the abundant, overcoming life He has planned for us!

He Came Back

Well, “The Big One” is over. Easter has come and gone, a glorious flash of splendor against the dark background of betrayal and brutality and death. Jesus, we are again reminded, has triumphed; He is risen!

And if we truly celebrated Holy Week, we find that we have been on an astonishing ride. A roller coaster ride from the heights of the Triumphal Entry amid palms and “Hosannas” and rocks ready to burst into praise… to the depths of betrayal, as not only one of His own, but also the crowd (some who shouted His praises days earlier?) turns against Him.

The ride plummets on down…down… as Jesus is beaten and mocked and crucified. And then still lower as all sin is laid upon Him and He is forsaken by His Father.

He is laid in the cold, dark tomb. The Apostle’s Creed says He even descended into hell. Then, finally, up, up, up into the light of the sun and resurrected life and reunion with His disciples and, eventually, return to His Father.

Think about how Jesus was treated by us in just that one week. Doesn’t it make you wonder why He didn’t enter that cloud that took Him to heaven.. and never look back? Why He didn’t just shake the dust off His feet, say “My work is accomplished here,” and stay in heaven? Surely He’d had enough grief to last an eternity! But He kept on showing the same love and passion to be near us that brought Him to the manger and the cross, and just forty days later, His Spirit returned, descending on the Upper Room. He came back (it’s as if He just can’t stay away)! He came back to the same world that gave Him so much grief. To the same city that lifted Him up and then slammed Him down. To the same disciples who deserted Him.

What love. To return and indwell such imperfect beings as His followers were – and are today. To take up residence in hearts too often haunted by distrust and fear and carnality and stubbornness. To come to you and me, by His Spirit, and settle smack dab in the middle of it all, to unpack His bags in whatever living conditions we offer Him. Astonishing.

So here He is today, indwelling every believer. And we can’t do anything about the way He was treated 2000 years ago. But we can do something about the way He is treated today, in our hearts. About the kind of welcome and attention we give His Spirit. About the accommodations we offer Him and the attitudes and the atmosphere that surrounds Him.

Can we do better? Can we improve on the hospitality – or lack of – that He was shown two thousand years ago? For the Holy Spirit’s sake, I hope so.

Chickens Eight, Nine, and Ten

“Take ten chickens. Any ten. Put them in a pen together, and spread a little chicken feed. In short order, you will witness an amazing phenomenon. In a matter of minutes, the chickens, previously strangers, will… establish a Pecking Order. Instinctively, they will determine, through a series of skirmishes, who the Number One Chicken will be; then the Number Two…all the way down to the unlucky Number Ten Chicken.”

So writes Bill Hybels in his excellent book, Descending Into Greatness. And he goes on to observe that more often than not, Jesus’ focus was on Chickens Eight, Nine, and Ten. I even think it’s safe to say that more often than not, Jesus allowed Himself to become Chicken Eight, Nine, or Ten.

Sunday’s sermon pointed to the chicken pens of our lives, asking, What about us? Where’s our position in the pecking order of daily life? What’s yours? What’s mine?

I’ve often puzzled over Philippians 2:3. “In humility consider others better than yourselves” (NIV). What exactly does it mean? That the calloused criminal is superior to me, or that the caustic atheist is above me? But I love God and they don’t! How can that be?

I think I’m working too hard, like the expert in Mosaic law who wanted to justify himself and asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” Perhaps the most profound theological interpretation of Phil. 2:3 is: Consider everyone you meet to be Chicken # 1.

How freeing to be done with sizing each other up and estimating another’s strength and establishing our rightful territory. How peaceful to experience community without skirmishes (not to mention the fact that we will lose fewer tail feathers). Besides, we don’t know what handicaps hamper our fellow chickens, both inside and out. We don’t know their tremendous potential, or the unbelievable plans God may have for them just around the corner. And we don’t know what roadblocks our superior attitude and actions may put in their way.

Need a visual? It’s Holy Week. See Jesus choose to become Chicken Number Ten in this world. See our Savior suffer and die for sinners – many of whom (as He already knows) will never turn to Him and make His sacrifice worthwhile in their lives. See Him choose the Ten slot anyway, considering each created soul worth the sacrifice of His life.

And see Him identify with the scrawniest, least lovable chickens in our pen today, leaving us with the same question His disciples were forced to consider: Will we flee or will we stay? Will we race off to fight for chicken feed, or stay with Chickens Eight, Nine, and Ten… and Jesus Himself?

We mourn for our Lord because His disciples fled. Let’s not do the same.