True Followers

Pastor Rick and Kathy’s twenty years of ministry among us says a lot about God, His grace, and His power. It says a lot about Rick and Kathy. And it also says a little bit about FAC, too.

There’s a verse in Hebrews 13 that congregations don’t hear very much – probably sounds a little bit high-handed for a pastor to haul out on Sunday morning – but it talks about the role and responsibility of the congregation in relation to its leaders. I think “leaders” includes all those in positions of spiritual authority, not just senior pastors:

“Obey your spiritual leaders and submit to them, [continually recognizing their authority over you], for they are constantly keeping watch over your souls and guarding your spiritual welfare, as men who will have to render an account… [Do your part to] let them do this with gladness and not with sighing and groaning, for that would not be profitable for you” (Heb. 13:17 Amp).

Of course we can quickly point out that not all leaders are truly concerned about their followers’ souls, some have their own interests in mind, some are not keeping much of a watch over anyone or guarding anything very well. Of that they will have to render an account. I don’t think that is a huge problem at FAC.

The bigger concern, I think, is whether we are making our servant leaders’ jobs a burden or a joy. As far as we individually are able, are we letting them carry out their calling with gladness, or are we contributing to the sighing and groaning that they bring before the Lord? (I envision Moses, praying while each Israelite family wailed in discontent at the entrance to their tent: “Why have you brought this trouble on your servant? What have I done to displease you that you put the burden of all these people on me? Why do you tell me to carry them in my arms, as a nurse carries an infant?... If this is how you are going to treat me, put me to death right now...” I do hope no FAC pastor has ever been brought to that!).

What kind of report do they carry to the One we are trying to please? As the Living Bible expresses verse 17, “Give them reason to report joyfully about you to the Lord and not with sorrow, for then you will suffer for it too.”

That Pastor Rick and any other of our leaders can express joy in serving God here is itself cause for celebration. It means that maybe, by God’s grace, we have understood Heb. 13:17, at least to some degree. Or maybe God is giving them an extra degree of patience while we learn! Whatever the reason, let’s celebrate their gladness and continue to recognize that the joy of our leaders is partly our responsibility – and definitely our profit.

Soil Testing

At the risk of sounding a bit self-satisfied, I confess that as I listened to the Parable of the Sower, I immediately identified with the good soil. (C’mon, didn’t you, too?) Well, surely I wasn’t rocky – hadn’t the Holy Spirit spent years dragging major boulders off the piece of land that was me? I wasn’t hard… didn’t I strive to internalize the truths I found every day in His Word and to live continually open to the Spirit? I wasn’t thorny… sure, the cares of life get in-my-face sometimes, but I don’t feel like they’re choking me or anything.

Probably the majority of us in the pews Sunday morning considered ourselves good soil. Could do with a bit of fertilizer, perhaps, but all in all pretty good stuff to work with.

But during the sermon a little arrow of truth shot through my self-satisfaction, and I realized something. I’m not all good soil. I mean, maybe there aren’t any mammoth boulders any more, but it doesn’t take a twenty-ton piece of granite to prevent seed from growing. A low-lying ledge of shale will do it, too. In a certain corner, could there be such a hardness lying just below the surface, preventing truth and transformation from penetrating deeply, taking root, and bearing fruit in that area?

And what about the well-traveled paths of my life? The exposed, worn-down places of daily activity, the busy and very practical places that lie open to the critical eyes of others, like the home and the workplace. Have I refused to let the Heavenly Farmer plow up those areas? Does He have to write any of those off as fruitless territory?

And hadn’t I noticed some thorns and thistles cropping up far out in left field? I tried to pull them out but they are stubborn! And it’s hard to see the harm in just a few. There’s so much wheat waving around them, I’ve been sure the good seed would eventually choke them out. Besides, how can the Farmer expect anything good to grow in that spot anyway – it’s pure clay there!

That doesn't deter Him. It’s easy to forget that there’s a richness and a tenderness and a yet a terrible ruthlessness in the sowing and cultivating work of the Holy Spirit. He intends to pour Himself into the soggy, discolored clay pits of my life, making them dark and rich and loamy; He purposes to dig up the shale, revealing untouched potential; He stands ready to clear away the brambles and thorns, giving the Truth room to breathe and stretch and grow in me.

But He awaits my go-ahead signal (we are ever soil-with-a-will, and He respects that). If I refuse Him that freedom, I am left with the stone and the thorn and the diminishing crop.

And if I grant it, who knows what can come from just a little plot of earth and a Heavenly Farmer?

Thoughts on Weeds

A couple of thoughts from the sermon on “Weeds”…

It was a good reminder of the dangers of worshipping “wheat.” Of putting any mentor or Bible teacher or missionary or similar seeming spiritual giant on a pedestal, thoughtlessly taking their word for gospel truth and mindlessly imitating their example. Even in the field of faith the tares are growing, and we need to be discerning. It’s not good enough to pick a good person and fashion our lives after him or her. There’s only One worthy of our unquestioning loyalty and veneration.

It was also a good reminder that “we have a yard, not a lawn.” That’s the oft-repeated saying of my brother-in-law, also our neighbor. People in subdivisions and city neighborhoods have lawns, Dan says, but we who live in the country and mow several acres of grass have yards. We don’t even plan to pull out all the dandelions and other assorted weeds - not if we want to get anything else done in the short Erie summer! Same for this ole earth, and for our individual lives. We’ve been planted in a yard, not a lawn. God has no intentions of weeding out all the tares – He’s letting us all grow together. I’m pretty sure the enemy is always pointing out the bad grass to Him, how well is it growing, how it is crowding out the good stuff and making a good showing… but the summer is short, says Jesus’ parable. The harvest is coming, the Day of Distinction, when His yard will become a lawn, perfect in beauty, without the tiniest sprout of a weed. Til then, bloom in His yard, by His grace, without insisting on perfect surroundings.

In my college days, a couple of us students were hired by a lawyer who had a fondness for gardening, and given a number of flower beds to weed. But neither of us knew much about flowers, and on what was not a Day of Distinction, my co-worker pulled out what was to the lawyer a very uncommon and prized plant. It hadn’t looked all that special, but it was, and suddenly my co-worker’s services were no longer needed.

That event reminds me that as for this world we live in, there’s nobody qualified to weed here, either. We unable to distinguish weeds from wheat. Even if we could, that prickly thornbush we long to grab by the throat and throttle with pleasure may be to the Gardener a prize in the making, just awaiting His transforming touch…

Therefore let us live by the Rule of Saint Benedict, and welcome everyone who enters our lives as if they were Christ Himself. As if they were tall, golden wheat growing on the perfect lawn of Heaven. For one day they just might be.

The 30 Hardest Days of Your Life

The youth service was awesome Sunday. I was taken back about 35 years to the on-fire youth group my sisters and I participated in as teenagers. There was a youth choir then, too, and honest, powerful testimonies, and extra prayer times springing up and a little revival that touched Youngsville High School and reached unchurched kids… I can understand what our youth are feeling and sense what a powerful impact these years will have on the rest of their lives.

I don’t know about you, but I was intrigued by the study book they were talking about – The 30 Hardest Days of Your Life. I’d not heard of it so I got online and looked it up. It got very positive reader reviews, although one gal wrote that it was great for newer Christians but contributed almost nothing to her spiritual life because she’d already experienced everything it was talking about.

She must be an exceptional person. I think most of us who listened Sunday felt that these kids had been challenged in ways that would benefit us, too – and also in ways that would likely be very difficult for us to handle. How many of us blanched inwardly at the thought of a 21-day media fast?

I can say from experience, though, that God’s appointed fasts are more than worth the “deprivation” we suffer. Especially when He tailors them to our individual needs (sort of like a personal trainer). For instance, I’m an avid reader. And I read really good stuff – biographies of exceptional Christians, spiritual classics… we’re talking Fenelon and Tozer and Oswald Chambers - no trash novels there! Yet God temporarily took me off all books but the Bible some months ago (all those library books are for my mom, Barb :)and I have been driven to pray, “Lord, I need a new love for the Word if this is going to work. Please give me a passion to read it and an ability to enjoy it”… and He has. It probably was His intention all along!

I guess I’m saying that what our youth testified to Sunday morning is something each of us might well benefit from. We can’t prescribe it to ourselves, but we can approach our Personal Trainer and express a willingness to fast from the good He sees is stuffing our lives, leaving little room for the best (even really good Christian books!). It’s a gutsy kind of prayer, but aren’t some of us ready for the kind of renewal we heard about Sunday morning?

The Power of One

I add a British “Hurrah!” to John Guest’s sermon on “The Power of One.” The Bible testifies from Genesis to Revelation that one individual – often an insignificant person – can be used mightily by God for His purposes and glory.

Do you think, though, that those individuals always realized their significance in God’s plan? Could Peter have predicted, when he stood to refute the accusation of drunkenness, that three thousand souls would be added to the fledgling church that Pentecost day? Was Stephen aware, as he sank under the volley of stones and cried “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit,” that he was giving a long and noble line of Christian martyrs a pattern to die by? Did Paul realize, as he penned letters to the churches at Philippi and Colosse and Ephesus from a lonely jail cell, that the Spirit was inspiring words that would richly nourish believers as long as time endured?

I think they each were just doing what they, solitary individuals, understood needed done in those moments, without calculating the outcome or having to see the larger picture. Certainly they were led and empowered by the Holy Spirit, but I don’t think they had any idea how much their contribution mattered.

We don’t either… and that’s something Satan tries to use to his advantage. He wants to use our shortsightedness to convince us our contribution doesn’t matter, our influence is minimal, and our efforts are worthless in the larger scheme of things. Like a predator stalking his prey, the enemy singles us out and tries to cut us away from the encouragement of the flock and the safety of the Shepherd. And then he begins tearing away at our souls:

*Do you really think you’re making any headway with that Sunday School class?
*You’ve been praying for that guy a long, long time. Nothing’s gonna happen!
*Have you compared your results with --? Shouldn’t you just sit down?
*Why do you dabble in little things? When will you do something that matters?

It’s a good thing Paul wasn’t cowed by the enemy into laying aside his pen and sinking into a gloomy silence in his jail cell. That Satan failed to force Stephen to recant in the face of a murderous crowd. That he couldn’t curb a Spirit-filled Peter from addressing the mockers that day at Pentecost.

Let’s not let the enemy cow us, either. If we’ve got a job to do, however small, let’s do it, believing that God can use the smallest and the most seemingly insignificant thing for eternal purposes. One brief prayer. One note of encouragement. One small act of obedience to His leading. It all matters.

And we’ll fully realize it, one Day, when He reveals to each of us the power of one.

The Return of the Prodigal

While thinking about the prodigal and the pigs and the pods this morning, I was reminded of the spiritual journey of a friend who attended Youngsville Free Methodist church with Dave and I many years ago.

Like the prodigal of Sunday’s sermon, Sue had once been distanced from her Father. But unlike that prodigal, she’d been living “high on the hog.” No pods for her. She’d acquired the husband she wanted, the children she wanted, the lifestyle she desired, the success she’d worked for… her life was complete, or should have been.

And yet, it wasn’t enough. There was an emptiness, an “Is this all there is?” And that inner emptiness, like the physical emptiness of the prodigal’s stomach, drove her to seek her heavenly Father. I remember how Sue stressed to us, “Don’t think everyone has to be brought to unbearable circumstances before they’ll come to Christ. Sometimes it’s the most perfect of situations that show the sinner that they’ll never find satisfaction outside of Christ. Trust God to use whatever way He chooses, and never count Him out of the picture.”

I’ve never forgotten what she said, because our tendency is, I think, to pray for a particular set of circumstances, and watch down one particular road for the return of our prodigal. Yet while Jesus is the only way to the Father, a creative God has many ways to beckon and woo and work. When you think about the gazillion options God has for drawing our prodigals to Himself, the one we have our hearts and prayers set on is probably just not the way it’s gonna happen!

So we who are waiting and watching the road can mourn in sackcloth and ashes because we aren’t seeing what we’re looking for – and become frustrated with God and prayer… or we can trust His methods, because we trust Him. We can reaffirm to God that we believe He’s at work, that we want His plan and not ours, and that we pledge ourselves to cooperate with Him by His grace.

I’m not saying that we don’t need to intercede diligently for our prodigals. We just need to be sure that our intercession is freeing, not tying, God’s hands. Then, whether they come home down the high road or the low road, our prodigals will find us waiting with open arms and joyful celebration.

The Disease of Disrespect

Powerful sermon Sunday. I was unable to attend, so I just finished listening to it online. Great words from the Lord through Pastor Rick. One point especially stood out to me, and that was the admonition to respect your spouse.

Disrespect can be classified, I believe, as a degenerative disease. I’ve seen it in couples; you have, too – maybe closer than you care to admit.

The onset is insidious… poking fun at a trait and laughing together about it, until one partner stops laughing and the other keeps poking. Getting a laugh at a gathering of friends, by telling a story that puts the other in a bad light. Complaining to the girls about one of his idiosyncrasies, or to the guys about hers. Forgetting to say “please” or “thank you” to your spouse when you wouldn’t dream of omitting them with strangers. Mentally comparing your spouse unfavorably with another.

None of these things seem like the symptoms of a serious disease, but they are warning signs, as surely as high triglycerides point toward diabetes or shortness of breath warns of heart trouble. Unaddressed, marriage health declines. The bond of trust weakens. The joy of mutual regard ebbs away. Oh, there is no deadly pallor, no plummeting of blood pressure, no spiking of fever. Just a gradual buildup of insensitivity, a growing apart, without really realizing how or why.

Counselors and psychologists and pastors have many good things to prescribe for couples diagnosed with disrespect, but I would mention one place to start: tame the tongue. If disrespect is a disease, the mouth is a trigger for flare-ups! So no more complaints. No more unwelcome jokes. And no more unfavorable comparisons. Instead, liberally apply common courtesies and compliments. Build loyalty. Defend each other.

Make your about-face intentional. You might need to talk together about where you each went wrong and how together you can get back on the road to health. Or you might just begin a quiet campaign for wholeness on your own.

But you’ll not likely be alone for long… respect isn't degenerative - but it is contagious!