Open Doors

Sunday’s sermon brings to mind an oft-told story from the repertoire of Southern Gospel comedian Wendell (“Wendy”) Bagwell…

It seems he and his singing group, The Sunliters, unknowingly booked a concert in a church that handled snakes as a part of their worship. After singing, they sat in the front pew (out of politeness, because the service wasn’t yet over… and because the love offering hadn’t yet been taken!).

After a brief sermon, the preacher produced a box and began to draw the reptiles out. At this, Wendy nervously asked a Sunliter where the back door was. “They haven’t got one!” came the dreaded news.

To which Wendy replied, “Reckon where do they want one?”

Are you a Wendy? I’ve sure been one ‘way too many times. We’ve all gotten into situations – even while following the Lord’s leading – where things just seem to go south fast, and there are no solutions in the think tank and no rescue on the horizon, and we begin scanning the circumstances for an exit.

Where is the door? We see nothing but solid walls. Claustrophobia sets in. Panic reigns, and the mind screams: There’s no way out. I can’t stand it. I’ve just gotta get out of here. Now. And we charge the nearest wall and smash our way through…

But we haven’t made a door. We’ve made a hole in the wall. A mess that someone else will have to clean up. A ragged gap that someone else will have to try to fill and repair. And we’ve broken our trust in God, too. Because He says that He is the doorkeeper: These are the words of him who is holy and true, who holds the key of David. What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open (Rev. 3:7-8 NIV). God is a true gentleman, who insists on opening and closing our doors for us. And when we make our own entrances and exits, we are out of His will.

With that in mind, here’s a suggestion for the New Year. Spend some time talking (and listening) with the Lord about your circumstances and His leading and the year that lies ahead. What does He most want from you? What do you most need from Him? How can you cultivate the holy habit of waiting on God's timing and leading?

Then, in light of the answers you receive, write a prayer – a prayer to be prayed every morning of 2010. I’ve written mine… but yours will be different. It will be custom-fitted to your circumstances and weaknesses and needs. And it will help keep you focused on the DoorKeeper who promises, right now, today, on the threshold of a new year:

See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut (Rev. 3:8). Follow Me through!

Goodbye

When our kids were young, Dave and I made the decision to move from our home in Warren County to Erie. A thoughtful aunt, wanting to help prepare the boys for the life-change, gave them a Golden Book titled Little Duck’s Moving Day.

Little Duck was both excited and scared at the prospect of relocating to a new home. As moving day neared, he helped his mom prepare for the movers who would soon come and load their possessions on a big truck. Alone in his bedroom, Little Duck resolutely gathered toys and stuffed animals, and removed the pictures from his walls. He said a solemn “Goodbye” to each one as he sorrowfully placed them in the big packing box.

His mother overheard him. She came into the bedroom and said to him, “Little Duck, you are going to see your books and toys and stuffed animals and pictures again. We will be unpacking these boxes in your new home, and you will have them there.

“And so,” she suggested gently, “instead of saying ‘goodbye,’ why don’t you say, ‘See you later’?”

And that is what a comforted Little Duck did.

And that is what we do, too. Although we are saying “Goodbye, God-Be-With-You” all around, what we really mean is, “See you later, Pastor Rick and Kathy.” See you down at the City Mission as we’re ladling soup into bowls… see you at a special FAC music concert (you’re welcome, you know), see you in the aisles of TJ Max :)… Or if not in some hallway or street or restaurant, then see you in heaven.

For life is a litany of hellos and goodbyes. And while the family of God uses those words in the common manner, we have a most uncommon knowledge. For us, it’s never truly goodbye – not in any final sense. It will always be followed by a hello, somewhere, sometime. And in the end, “Hello” will have the final word.

See you later.

joy, Joy, JOY!!!!

“Fear not, for I bring you tidings of great joy. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior which is Christ the Lord.”

To outsiders on dark and silent sheep-strewn hillsides…
Tidings of comfort and joy - unto you is born a Savior.

To magi wanderers, star-struck, following they know not where…
Tidings of comfort and joy - unto you is born a Savior.

To a mother and father striving to stretch their minds around their role…
Tidings of comfort and joy - unto you is born a Savior.

To men and women walking in darkness, yearning to hear a word of hope…
Tidings of comfort and joy - unto you is born a Savior.

To seekers after truth, oft-mislead, becoming jaded and cynical…
Tidings of comfort and joy - unto you is born a Savior.

To people in over their heads, worn-out, fed-up, broken-down…
Tidings of comfort and joy - unto you is born a Savior.

To we who are still haunted by shadows, searching for answers…
Tidings of comfort and joy - unto us is born a Savior.

Beset by failures and regret and a lingering sadness…
Tidings of comfort and joy - unto us is born a Savior.

Like the shepherds, sore afraid,
Like the magi, lone seekers,
Like the Christmas parents, wholly inadequate for what lies ahead,
Tidings of comfort and joy - unto us is born a Savior.

Sure, in this world we will have trouble – but He calls us to be of good cheer; after all, we have a Savior! And a Savior saves! Then… and now. He doesn’t just save from sin; He saves from fear and bondage and the evil one and the sorrow that leads to death. He saves from every single thing that is bigger than we are. He saves every step we take. He saves every second of our every day. He was born to save!

Oh tidings of comfort and joy, JOY, JOY!!!!

Great Expectations

I’ve got to admit that over my life I’ve had a problem with expectations. An even bigger problem with great expectations. My reasoning could be summed up in one word: disappointment. I don’t like it. Never have. In fact, one of the dumber quotes I used to parrot was: “Expect nothing, and you will never be disappointed.”

One problem with that kind of thinking is that it makes us Puddleglums. You know, the character in the Chronicles of Narnia’s The Silver Chair by C. S. Lewis. Puddleglum the Marshwiggle can best be described by his answer to the children who asked his help in finding the prince:

“It stands to reason we’re not likely to get very far on a journey to the North, not at this time of year, with the winter coming on soon and all. And an early winter, too, by the look of things. But you mustn’t let that make you downhearted. Very likely, what with enemies, and mountains, and rivers to cross, and losing our way, and next to nothing to eat, and sore feet, we’ll hardly notice the weather. And if we don’t get far enough to do any good, we may get far enough not to get back in a hurry.”

There’s a fellow who’s not likely to be disappointed. He didn’t seem to cherish any hopes for the venture to begin with, and he certainly didn’t hold out any hope to his fellow travelers. The interesting thing is, Puddleglum is the most reliable, the most faithful creature in the story, besides Aslan Himself. He is good through and through, and capable of the most noble heroics… he just can’t face the future with confidence and cheerfulness. He has no expectations – great or small – except maybe the expectation that all will be hard and unpleasant.

So here we are at FAC, beginning a journey into uncharted waters. We are prayerful and faithful. But are we also Puddleglums? Do we expect bad weather and enemies and losing our way? Are we spreading the feeling that this is going to be a long and arduous process with a dubious outcome at best? Do we say we are only being realistic, as we cast shadows over the terrain ahead?

There’s a far better way to avoid disappointment and disillusionment, and that’s to trust God. To trust Him with a confidence that throws its entire weight on Him. To trust Him implicitly, not expecting Him to do specifically this or that (find us a senior pastor in two months, start a spike in attendance, keep all one thousand of us in wholehearted agreement through the process). He may do those things… but that’s not where our expectation should lie.

We’ve got to trust His heart, believe in His intentions for us, both as individuals and as a church family. Only then can we trust His plans and His timing and His choices. And we’ve got to trust with a faith that isn’t tentative or wishy-washy. With the faith of a kid on a trampoline, who throws himself onto the springy canvas with abandonment, and pushes off with all his might, soaring higher and higher with each jump.

No fear. No Puddleglums. Just trust.

A No-Faux Christmas

I didn’t grow up in the tradition of the advent wreath, so I still need reminded of the significance of each candle…

First… the prophets’ candle: hope
Second… the Bethlehem candle: peace
Third… the shepherds’ candle: love
Fourth… the angels’ candle: joy
Fifth… the Christ candle

Each candle symbolizes some aspect of the Christmas story. When you think about it, Christmas is loaded with symbols, isn’t it? The star on the Christmas tree (or atop the silo or the town water tower) symbolizes the real thing that preceded the wise men. Christmas pageants and outdoor displays portray the entire nativity scene and story. And the gifts under the tree (usually a symbolic tree!) mimic the gold, frankincense and myrrh given to Jesus by the wise men. They’re our way of showing someone we treasure them. They symbolize love.

Those symbols are good… if we recognize and embrace the meaning behind them. But it’s possible to go through the season entirely on symbols, and miss their significance. It’s possible to give gifts… but not have love. To attend parties and laugh and sing… but not have joy. To hold a flickering candle at a Christmas Eve service… with darkness in the soul.

A faux Christmas. It looks like the real thing, but underneath, it’s a sham. Artificial. Merely show.

How can we make sure this Christmas is a no-faux Christmas? We can take Paul’s admonition seriously: “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen” (2 Cor. 4:18 NIV). And I think he would go on, in the case of Christmas, to say, “For what is seen is only a symbol, but what is unseen is real and life-changing and eternal.”

So light a candle this Christmas. Trim a tree. Get together with friends and family and laugh and hug and exchange gifts. Do all the things that come with Christmas… but do them all with an eye for what’s under the surface. What really matters. Who really matters.

A no-faux Christmas just might be a life-changing one.

Transformation

Kids are known for telling it like it is, and Sunday’s baptisms were no exception. There seemed to be a common theme in their transparent testimonies: “Before I came to Christ, I was a troublemaker…” “I used to be mean to my sister…” “I didn’t have self-control…”

The common thread was change. And it’s not just unique to those kids. The other day, a friend of mine commented on the transformation in her recently-converted father. “It’s not just that he is a better person. He is a completely different person. He’s just not the same man he was.”

Some of us, though, are asking a silent question deep down inside. Why not me? Why haven’t I had a night-to-day transformation? Why am I still struggling with the issues I battled before coming to Christ? Why them… but not me? What am I doing wrong? Am I not truly saved?

Salvation experiences are unique to each individual. Sure, they all involve repentance and confession and forgiveness and surrender. But haven’t you seen some delivered immediately from physical addictions… while others struggle for years in that area? Some begin at once to exercise God-given gifts, while others have great difficulty finding where they can contribute to the Kingdom. Some forge ahead, exercising ever-strengthening faith, while others constantly battle fear and distrust.

But think about new life. Some babies arrive hale and hearty; others are scrawny and pitiful. Some advance rapidly; others develop slowly. Some enter the world voicing clear instructions to the doctors; others have a hard time figuring out how to breathe.

Similarly, some newborn Christians look fresh, healthy, and full of promise. They arrive almost on their feet, nearly ready to begin serving the Body of Christ. Others are candidates for the neonatal unit. They may need a counselor to help them deal with the trauma of their past lives, and a mentor to show them how this new life is walked. Transformation comes slowly. Godly character is acquired in increments.

The point is this: those who went down into the waters of baptism Sunday did not all look the same. They hadn’t each come to Christ with the same personalities or problems or inner workings or past experiences, and the same sins weren’t washed away. Furthermore, the squeaky-clean souls who came up out of those waters of baptism were not transformed into cookie-cutter Christians. They’re still unique individuals and they will work out the salvation they’ve received in unique ways. They each have different needs and they’ve each set out on a different path, at a different pace, as the Spirit leads them.

It applies to us, too. So let’s not waste our energy lamenting our slowness and our struggles. Let’s just be certain we’re doing our part – cooperating with the Spirit as best we understand, doing all we know to grow more like Christ. Beyond that, take comfort in this paraphrase of Ps. 103:

As a father’s heart goes out to his son or daughter,
So the Father’s heart goes out to each of us who have been reborn into His family.
For He knows all that is going on inside each mind and body,
And He remembers that we were formed from the dust of the ground.

Be reminded today that He’s far more patient and compassionate than we can ever know... Yet another thing to be thankful for this week!

The Initiator

Initiative.

It’s a concept so close to our hearts we scarcely realize it’s there, so ingrained in our lifestyle we don’t see it for what it is. And it’s so valued by our culture we look down on those without it. What, in fact, is initiative? Webster tells us it’s “the action of taking the first step or move, responsibility for beginning or originating.”

Ah, that’s the American way! We value those who create from scratch, or take up a worthy cause and rally the troops, or see a need and construct a plan and get the ball rolling. We set those people up as useful and devoutly to be imitated. They are worth something! They are contributing! - unlike the riffraff who loll about taking life as it comes. (And have you noticed that it seems the further north you travel in our great land, the more highly drive and industry seem to be valued? If that’s true, we live in a hotbed of initiative!)

Unfortunately, this lopsided value system permeates our spiritual life as well. As we learned Sunday, too often we go into a relationship with God under the assumption that we have originated the idea of reconciliation with Him. We took the first step, and God responded. That mindset continues to permeate our walk with Christ: we plan great things for Him, and ask Him to respond by blessing it all. We set about reforming our attitudes and actions, and beg His assistance. And when we fail repeatedly, we blame ourselves and muster initiative for yet another attack on the world, the flesh, or the devil.

Theologians have a term that sets us straight and comforts at the same time: prevenient grace. God wants us; God calls us; God softens our hearts; God draws us to Himself; God keeps us there; God changes us into the image of His Son; God will lead us Home. We have to choose to respond and to cooperate… but He initiates and enables everything.

If we are proud and self-reliant (Luciferian qualities, by the way), this truth will humiliate us, will stir up angry resistance within us. But if we are humble (is that why He said we must become as little children?), it will comfort and encourage us. Why? Because salvation and sanctification and glorification no longer rests on our puny shoulders, no longer depends on our trying hard enough or being persistent enough.

Arms exhausted from trying to fan the spiritual flame can relax. Feet aching from frantic service to God can rest. We are not initiators. We are responders. We don’t need to think up a plan to save ourselves or the world. We can’t produce spiritual fruit by our own efforts. And we don’t get extra credit for expending extra energy on self-generated projects for the Kingdom.

We can lay it all down, along with our pride, and wait on the Lord. Wait on His initiative. Listen for the still, small voice of His Spirit.

Then, “whatever He says to you, do it.”