The Lord Needs It

I keep thinking about the colt. The donkey’s colt that Jesus “commandeered” for His ride into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. Luke spends a precious half-dozen verses of Scripture on the incident, and it raises two questions in my mind:

1. Why did Jesus choose such a lowly beast?
I’m surprised to learn that the donkey was actually preferred over the horse by the royalty of ancient times. The horse was a symbol of war; the donkey a sign of peace.* The message, then, was this: I am coming as a King, but don’t think I ride in to instigate an uprising against Roman rule. I am a King of peace.” In fact, Jesus lamented as He approached the city, “Oh Jerusalem, if only you had known what would bring you peace…” but He knew their rejection was imminent.


2. Why this colt?
The selection seems:

 Random. Jesus had made no previous arrangements. He didn’t appear to be acquainted with the owner. His instructions appeared risky: “untie it and bring it here, and if anyone asks, ‘What are you doing?’ say, ‘The Lord needs it.’” What owner would go for that?
 Wrong. The colt was unsuitable. He’d never been trained. Now he was to have garments thrown over him (sure to spook a nervous novice) and someone set upon his back. Then he will be ridden through a gauntlet of cheering, palm-waving people, as people hurry on ahead to spread clothing that he must step on.

Maybe there’s a deep theological explanation for Jesus’ choice… or maybe it’s just that Jesus seems to prefer raw material anyway. He had nothing at all to work with when He created the universe! And He was continually picking out the insignificant, the insufficient, the untrained… (“not many wise, not many mighty, not many of noble birth,” as the apostle Paul later wrote) to accomplish His work.

When choosing His disciples, He didn’t scour Galilee for young scholars dubbed “most likely to succeed,” or target devout God-seekers who frequented the temple. When feeding the 5,000 He didn’t cause manna to fall from heaven or quail to conveniently descend. When teaching the economics of the Kingdom, He didn’t conduct a tour of the temple treasury.

He started with the unlikely. Untaught fishermen. Fives loaves and two small fishes. Two “pennies” in a widow’s hand. An unbroken colt.

I think a lot of times Jesus works so quietly, so low-key today that we miss the wonder of what He’s doing. In our lives, in the lives of those around us, in our ministries, in our world. This is a good week to stop and remember that Jesus gravitates toward the insignificant, the unlikely, the unsuitable. He’s been making something out of nothing for a long time.

So whatever He asks for, give Him - and just keep waving that palm branch!


*New Bible Dictionary

Winning Big

I’m not a gambler. I guess I don’t have the right mindset for it anyway.

My son, who works at a supermarket, tells me that when people win at the lottery, they generally immediately reinvest their winnings in more lottery tickets. A co-worker of his recently won a nice sum of money… and put it all back into the game. There’s that outside chance (no pun intended) that he might strike it bigger, really big.

I am a player, however, in an arena where the stakes are much higher. Where, if I lose, the consequences are devastating. And if I win, I win the highest and the best and there is no need to reinvest.

It’s the option of heaven or hell. As our pastors have reminded us, it’s a choice we all make. No opting out on this one. No deciding to save the paycheck for other pursuits - this is the only investment choice. And no sitting back, refusing to make a decision. To sit it out is to make the decision by default, and it’s hell.

The difference about these stakes, too, is that there’s no guesswork involved. God’s Word tells me exactly what the options are. It clearly shows me how to request all that the Father has made available to His children through Jesus’ death for our sins. It tells me exactly how much I must lay down on the counter. And when I do, the Holy Spirit assures me that I have truly obtained eternal life.

It’s a sure thing. A done deal. I don’t have to watch the evening news to see if I’ve won. I don’t have to come away with cash-in-hand. I have the Spirit as a guarantee that all that has been promised to me will come to me (Eph. 1:13-14).

Life involves a lot of uncertainties, but the hereafter does not need to be one of them. God, in His mercy, has made sure that. And because of that mercy I will stand one day before Him and say,

Upon a life I did not live,
Upon a death I did not die,
Another’s life, Another’s death,
I stake my whole eternity.*

And I will win. Big.


*Horatius Bonar

Have You Hugged a Fencepost Today?

“Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.”

So wrote Robert Frost in his poem “Mending Fences.” How true, especially when everyone else seems to be cavorting in wide open spaces, and we’re watching through the slats!

Spiritually speaking, it takes time to understand and appreciate the personal fences that God builds in our lives – restrictions on our actions or lifestyles or some other aspect of our lives... restrictions that apply only to us as individuals and not to the whole body of believers. They’ve been given because of, as Pastor Ben put it, our past life, our “baggage,” our innate weaknesses.

Unfortunately, we’re often slow to see those fences for what they are: evidence of God as Father - protective, proactive, preventive. He wants to keep us in the fold, safe from danger, well-fed and watered, close to Himself. They’re His way of preventing pain and tears and regret. His way of keeping us from harming ourselves – and others.

Of course, Jesus is quick to leave the ninety-nine and go for us when we wander off. But once He’s built that fence to keep us from wandering, what unnecessary grief and effort we cause, what time we waste, what ground we lose, when we trample that safety barrier and set to grazing where He has not led us.

Besides, think of it this way. If God has built a fence in your life, doesn’t it prove how much He cares about you? You’ve got His individual attention! He’s concerned about your particular weaknesses and He’s custom-built a fence or two just for you. Even after it’s constructed, His attention never wanders. He keeps reminding you of it. He keeps hauling you back behind it. He means it!

It’s a little hard on the pride sometimes, to think that we are weak where others are strong. But humility allows us to make peace with our limitations, to welcome the fence as God’s discipline, to stop kicking against it long enough to consider why it was put there. If it wasn’t there, where would we be? It’s a sobering question, and the answer… well, it’s enough to make you want to hug a fencepost.

I think, Mr. Frost, that a wise man learns to love his fences.

Tibet or Tarmac?

Did you ever wonder what it must be like to be a baggage handler in a busy metropolitan airport?

All day long slinging suitcases tagged with exotic departures and destinations -Tibet…Madagascar…Tahiti. Watching important-looking executives and tanned, carefree families sweep through the terminal on their way to and from balmy islands and high adventure. Processing luggage, ensuring comfort, greatly aiding in the success of business trip and romantic getaway. Constant through the toasted-tarmac heat of summer and the knifing winds of winter, with head and feet firmly planted on the ground.

It reminds me of one Old Testament incident in which David sets out with 600 men, intent on recovering the possessions, wives, and children that the enemy has stolen from them. But by the time David comes to Besor Ravine, 200 are to exhausted to go on, so the remaining men pursue the enemy and recover all that had been taken. On the way back, they meet with the ones who had “stayed on the tarmac.” Although some of the victorious men declare that these deserve no reward, David is adamant:

”The share of the man who stayed with the supplies is to be the same as that of him who went down to the battle” (1 Sam. 30:24 NIV).

I believe that he was applying a godly principle. When it comes to spiritual battle and the pursuit of the enemy onto foreign soil through missions, short-term or long, God likewise values the efforts of those who stay behind – providing they are dressed for battle, have participated to the fullest of their ability, have kept their head in the game, have stayed with the supplies.

So the question that convicts me as I work in the terminal, watching people come and go from the DR and South America and Poland and Russia is… am I working hard at my job to fulfill the Great Commission in the place God has put me? Am I as called in my giving and praying as others are in their going, or do I lob up random prayers and give a few dollars whenever and wherever my heartstrings are pulled?

I believe that the Great Commission calls me to be intentional and focused and wholly committed, whether on my knees or out of my earnings or on a jet headed out for high adventure.

Maybe I’m not the only baggage-handler that has been challenged anew this week…

Free at Last

The walls might be 15 to 25 feet thick, rising over 25 feet high. Often, trenches had been dug in front of them, and towers built at their corners. These fortified cities, these strongholds, were the fortresses of the Old Testament, and they were virtually impregnable (Zondervan Expository Dict. Of Bible Words). Places to escape to. Places of refuge.

But later, in the New Testament, the Greek “stronghold” came from the verb meaning “to hold.” Something that held – a castle keep, a dungeon.(Vines).

Isn’t that how it works for us? The ungodly places in which we take refuge become, in the end, dungeons from which we cannot escape. Like Samson, we enjoyed them, if guiltily, and then one day awoke to find that we no longer possessed the power to go in and out at our leisure. The door was barred, the drawbridge was up, the sentries were posted, and we were in.

Pastor Rick spoke Sunday on the stronghold of homosexuality, but he clearly and correctly affirmed that there are many strongholds and few if any of us have escaped some form of imprisonment.

Satan specializes in strongholds. He likes to establish at least one in every life… and he often maintains it even after that person accepts Christ and sincerely endeavors to live the life of a dedicated disciple. And while the believer struggles and fails and tries again and struggles and fails, Satan whispers,

“Nobody else has this problem. You are alone.”
“Don’t call for help. No one else would understand.”
“You will never overcome that in this life. You have to wait til heaven.”

Do you see his strategy? Isolation, silence, despair. But the secret is out:
”You’re alone”? No, strongholds have dotted the landscape of most, if not all of our lives.
“No one would understand”? No, many who have overcome have been specifically called and gifted by God to encourage and counsel people still trapped in their dungeons.
“You will never overcome”? No, many testify that what the apostle Paul wrote is true: “The weapons we fight with… have divine power to demolish strongholds” (2 Cor. 10:4 NIV).

God has supplied us with a weapon of defense – the shield of faith, and a weapon of offense – the Word of God (Eph. 6:16-17). One for the left hand and one for the right. Those weapons have divine power to destroy strongholds… if we are trained to use them.

A quick Scripture recited in the hour of temptation is not necessarily effective, and desperate declarations of faith often seem to fizzle at the first blast of Satan’s fiery darts. The question becomes, are we willing to be trained for battle? To sign up for the long haul, to learn to apply faith and use the Word, to assist God in laying siege to the stronghold if necessary?

It’s not by our power or strategy or perseverance that victory will come. It’s all by God’s power and strategy and perseverance. But we must be trained to cooperate (for He will not violate our free will), and He awaits our permission. Will we give it? And keep on giving it, by His grace?

If so, one day we will wake up to find that the sentries are gone and the door is standing open and the drawbridge is down, and we are free.

I Do

It’s nearly Valentine’s Day… and I’m thinking about wedding vows. They’ve gotten pretty creative these days, but many couples still respond to some variation of these words:

Do you take (your intended’s name) to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love, comfort, honor and keep him/her, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and, forsaking all others, be faithful only to him/her so long as you both shall live?

Response: “I do.”

At least I hope it’s, “I do.” Or it could be “I’ll try,” as suggested by the lyrics of a recent country song (billed as popular wedding music!):

“I can't tell you that I'll never change
But I can swear that in every way…
I'll try my best to be true…”
(“I’ll Try” by Alan Jackson)

No notes of high fidelity there. In fact, “I’ll try” is a pretty wimpy commitment, and few of us would be actually inclined to write it into our marriage vows. It’s nothing like what we intend in that first blush of matrimony, when we’re focused on our loved one and fully committed to making it work.

And it doesn’t square with that ultimate example of wedded union, Christ and the church, who gave themselves to each other, vowing to respect and love each other, to leave all else to be together, to become one for all time. For marriage is a reflection of that even deeper, pure and eternal union between Christ and all believers (Eph. 5:22-33). It is, as the apostle Paul stated, “a profound mystery,” and a mystery marked by high fidelity.

Christ gave Himself unreservedly for the church. There was nothing wimpy or tentative or conditional about it. He stood at the altar two thousand years ago and committed His life to bless and love and comfort and honor and keep His Bride the Church for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in her sickness and health. He forsook all earthly comfort – and heavenly too – for her. He said He’d remain by her side and stay faithful, not just through this life, but through all eternity.

He didn’t just say, “I’ll try.” He said, “I do.” And by the power of His Father, He did – and He always will.

By the power of that same Father, husbands and wives, so can we.

The Ape and the Angel

An angel and an ape… can you imagine a less likely combination?

A.W. Tozer agreed: "Two creatures may be in the same room and yet millions of miles apart. For instance, if it were possible to put an ape and an angel in the same room, there would be no compatibility, no communion, no understanding, no friendship; there would only be distance. The shining angel and the slobbering, gibbering ape would be far, far removed from each other" (The Attributes of God). In order for the two to be truly close, Tozer went on to write, their spirits would need to be changed, made similar. That’s because inner likeness is closeness.

Pastor Ben spoke to us Sunday about abiding in Christ. Sometimes it’s like the ape trying to keep company with the angel, isn’t it? We tend to look at things differently than Jesus does. We allow fears and worries and opinions and irritations to interfere. Our communion with Him is on-and-off, and we sometimes feel millions of miles apart from Him. As a result, instead of experiencing joy and bearing much fruit, we wither on the Vine. Our differences have separated us from Him; there is “no compatibility, no communion, no understanding, no friendship”… only distance.

The bottom line is, we need to be like Christ in order to get near to Him. Tozer goes on to ask: “Have you any tears for your unlikeness? Have you any tears for that distance between you and God? You’re not diminishing in any way the things God has already done in your life… But you can’t escape that sense of remoteness…

“I think that repentance is called for. We need to repent of unlikeness; of unholiness in the presence of the holy; of self-indulgence in the presence of the selfless Christ; of harshness in the presence of the kind Christ; of hardness in the presence of the forgiving Christ; of lukewarmness in the presence of the zealous Christ… of worldliness and earthliness in the presence of the heavenly Christ. I think we ought to repent.”

Amen, Dr. Tozer. True repentance gives the Holy Spirit permission to change us into His likeness. To re-create us in the image of God. To make it possible, finally, to understand and connect and commune… to abide in Him.