Just For a Season

[The following is a fiction article I'd written long ago for a Sunday School take-home paper... Pastor John's excellent sermon brought it back to my mind, and I'm offering it here as an "Amen" to Sunday's message].

Just for a Season

Dear Marjorie,

It was a godsend to receive your letter. I mean that literally. It was inspired by God Himself, I have no doubt.

I was away all day Saturday and didn’t know it had come. Sunday morning as I grabbed my car keys, I noticed your unopened letter. Sarah wasn’t quite ready to leave yet, so I took a quick minute to read it.

Josh’s questions and protests are really getting to you, I can tell. I guess it’s pretty common for teens to go through that sort of thing – part of the process of finding for themselves what is true, of making it their own because they really do believe it, not just because they’ve been told it’s so.

You worry that you “are driving him away by insisting on church.” I had gotten just that far in your letter when Sarah called me; if I didn’t hurry we’d be late for the soccer game. I stuffed your letter in my coat pocket and we jumped into the car. That’s when a thought, a little humorous, a little unsettling, came to me: It was 9:30 a.m. Sunday morning. I was driving my daughter away from church. Literally.

Kind of an unpleasant realization for a Christian parent. You know how deeply involved in church activities we were when you lived here. But when Sarah reached junior high, there were so many opportunities – and she was so talented. I didn’t want those abilities to be wasted. And I suppose it made me feel good to see her so successfully involved. I knew there’d be a few Sunday afternoon practices and an occasional Sunday morning game, but she begged and we allowed it “for just this season.”

We hadn’t anticipated that she would do so well. There were play-offs, then another new sport began, and then a weekend summer job that seemed the only one available. I made it to church about half the time, and consequently dropped out of most of my responsibilities there. It seemed so harmless to spend a few seasons driving my daughter away from church.

I haven’t said anything to you about all this, but it’s been going on for a couple of years now. I can’t say I didn’t know what was happening, or that it was a mistake. It was a deliberate decision that just mushroomed into more than we had intended.

What I began to understand, after I read your letter, was that this "season" with her will soon be over. The play-offs will soon be here. And I have done far worse than allow her to sit it out. When the church and the world went head-to-head, I supported the opposition.

Sarah and I have a lot to talk about; then it’s getting back to basics. Pray that she will understand. Pray that I will, regardless, do as God leads to finish this “season” on a positive note.

Thanks, Marjorie. Pray for me. I’ll pray for you.

Love,
Brenda

The Magnet of the Church

Magnets are attractive, aren't they? They pique our curiosity by exuding a mysterious force and tugging irresistably at nearby objects and defying gravity itself.

“Unity is the magnet of the church.”

That statement from Sunday’s sermon deserves a closer look. Unity means a oneness in heart and purpose among diverse individuals. Among people from different backgrounds and interests and lifestyles. Among people like those who make up FAC. It's the love of Christ expressed in mutual regard for each other and in common commitment to the Father of us all.

Jesus prayed, just before going to Gethsemane, specifically for us – those who would someday believe through the message of the first disciples. “May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me” (Jn. 17:23 NIV).

So how are we doing at FAC with this thing called unity? It seems that, as a whole, we’re doing quite well, by the Spirit’s help. And may this continue by God’s grace. But in a church this size there are many “minichurches” –men’s and women’s ministries, small groups, Bible studies, outreach ministries., and many others. The parts make up the whole, and so the important consideration becomes, how is each individual “part” of FAC doing? Are we unified in each of those subgroups, together in spirit, one in purpose, fellowshipping in love? Or does any group experience division and discord, struggle for power, resistance to authority, animosity between personalities, failure to catch the same vision and pursue a common goal?

We’re each responsible for the answer to those questions. We’d each do well to ask ourselves: How is the group(s) I’m involved with doing? How am I doing as a part of those ministries? Am I in any way divisive? Do I refrain from comments that chip away at unity? Am I careful not to be critical? Do I resist taking my concerns to everyone but the one who has the right to know? Do I make allowances for the faults of others and use an oversized scoop to distribute mercy and encouragement among our group? Do I lay down my rights for the sake of others?

Unity in the church starts with the individual. It starts with the individual following the example of Christ in humility and servanthood, laying down privilege and preference for the sake of the group and the shared cause - and for the sake of those who do not know Him, who are on the outside looking in, and who will never be attracted to the "fellowship of believers" if there is no evident… fellowship. Above all, for the sake of the One who died for them, we must join together to exude the mysterious force of love that tugs at hardened hearts and defies the law of sin and death.

Our witness is at stake here, yes. But more than that, the attractiveness of Christ and his gospel, the tangible evidence of God’s love for sinners, even the future of the lost who pass by close to our doors, is at stake. Minichurches, are we unified?

Family Ties

My dad died shortly before I was married, and a few years later my mom moved out of the area. Although Dave and I intended to start a family, the years passed without children. Dave worked second shift, and as the long, solitary evenings rolled by, a kind of darkness settled into my heart… but I also discovered a wonderful truth during that time.

A new pastor and his wife moved into town and began to take some of us under their wing in rather unconventional ways. Soon Ollie ( an elderly widow in our small church) and I were regularly joining the pastor and his wife on those long evenings for lively games of Uno. What fun we had, forgetting disappointment and old age and church boards and all our various challenges, and just chortling (and cheating a bit!) together. Now, when I look back at those difficult years in my life, the memory is punctuated with the laughter and love we shared around a kitchen table. It perfectly illustrates the Psalmist’s words: “God sets the lonely in families” (PS. 68:6 NIV).

It seems to me that’s the way He intends the church, His body, to work in these days, too. Many of us did not have a mother to celebrate with last weekend, and will not have a father to send a card to in June, or children to cherish on Children’s Day. Yet what an friend once declared is surely true: “There are people in this church who are more like flesh-and-blood to me than some members of my own family.” The bond they shared with their fellow Christians was stronger. The Blood they shared was thicker. The Spirit affirmed that they were children of the Father, and therefore brothers and sisters of the closest order.

Jesus said, in some of His last words from the cross, “Woman, behold thy son,” and “Son, Behold your mother.” He was speaking to His mother, about to lose her precious son, and to His beloved disciple, John. And with those words He created a family bond where none had before existed, and began a healing in Mary and John’s hearts.

That’s what He wants to do in the church today, too. To set the lonely in families. To give spiritual mothers and fathers and children to those with empty arms and aching hearts, to those whose sun is setting each evening on days that were already dark.

What does that mean for you? I don’t know. Maybe you are an older woman and can become a mother to a younger wife and mom who is struggling. Maybe you are a single gal who can take a wriggling class of children into your heart and under your wing. Maybe you are a grandpa whose grandkids aren’t nearby, and there’s a teen or two who’d benefit by hanging out at your house.

But we can’t create family ties on our own. God sets the lonely in families – it is His arrangement and initiative. So let’s tell Him what we long for, and wait expectantly for Him.

And in response may the Lord look down on FAC and say, here and there, “Child, here is your mother in Christ. Young man, here is your father. Single person, here is your child, or your spiritual parents, or your sister in the Lord.” Your special next-of-kin in the family of God.

Tiny Offerings

I think the majority of us most easily identified with the little boy in Keith’s sermon Sunday. David, Samuel and Mary were big deals in the history of the chosen people, but few of us will dash off a fresh psalm of worship this week and ship it off to Janet to be sung by the choir on Sunday morning… or anoint the next President of the United States… or have a life-changing encounter with Gabriel. We don’t feel like we have those sorts of skill sets to offer or epic roles to play; we’ll leave those things to the kings, prophets, and heroines of history.

But a boy with a little lunch, now that’s us. Like Keith said, it doesn’t take a lot of talent to give your lunch to somebody. Especially when it was a lunch he probably didn’t earn or prepare. (The fish were likely snagged by dad’s net, the loaves baked by mom while her son danced, carefree, past the fire and off to play with friends).

What he had not earned and did not create, he merely received, then offered willingly to Jesus.

Or look at the widow at the temple (Mk. 12:41 ff).. It was near the beginning of Holy Week, and Jesus had just recently cleared the temple of moneychangers and merchandise. He had condemned; now He came back to commend. He sat and observed the morning tithes and offerings, noticing that the rich were throwing in large sums of money. Then he pointed out a solitary old woman who had, without fanfare, slipped two “mites,” the smallest coins of the day, into the treasury. It was all she had.

“Respect that contribution,” He advised His disciples. “She has put in more than all the rest.”

Jesus had great respect for the boy's lunch and the widow’s tiny contribution, and He has great respect for our tiny offering, too. He’s intending to do all sorts of wonderful, unexpected things with it – if we respect it enough to present it to Him.

We respect the treasure, time and talents we’ve been given when we…
 remember that the smallest things matter
 don’t belittle what we’ve been given
 don’t try to hype our resources, but accept them for what they are
 don’t wait to give til we have more
 give our all and best, holding nothing back for a more opportune time
 take godly pride in our contribution, considering it a privilege

Have any of us been holding back because our tiny offering seems so worthless, so pointless? Have we looked at our little resources and shrugged, “What are these among so many?” Until you and I respect the little lunch we’ve been given, we will not be glad to place it at Jesus’ disposal. We won’t see much multiplied or many fed. And we won’t respect the little lunches in anyone else’s hand, either.

Jesus delights in the small offering or, rather, the “all” offering, whatever size. He respects it. He uses it. Therefore, as Longfellow said, “Give what you have. To someone it might be better than you dare to think.” It will be better, for Jesus will take it, and break it, and multiply it in His way, for His glory.

Aliens in This World

The immigration issue is a hot topic right now. Tucked away in my insulated mid-atlantic corner, I don’t pretend to know much about the issues involved. So I’m not weighing in on that discussion at all… in the political realm. But spiritually speaking, I think we all need to make sure we aren’t trying the same thing that some southern neighbors have been doing.

“What?” you say, a bit miffed. “I’ve never tried to infiltrate another country… gone incognito to the workplace… bought into programs and benefits that were meant for another. I’ve never even wanted to change my citizenship, never as much as looked longingly at another country. I loudly voice my allegiance. I proudly display my flag. There’s nothing underhanded or disguised about me.”

Good for you. But I haven’t always been able to say that, and neither have a good many other Christians over the last two thousand years. The apostle Paul had to write to those of us who sometimes struggle with our spiritual citizenship:

“For I have often told you before and now say again even with tears, many [believers] live as enemies of the cross of Christ… Their mind is on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Phil. 3:18-20 NIV). “You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light” (1 Pt. 2:9 NIV). “Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires… Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of wrongdoing, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us” (1 Pt. 2:11-12 NIV).

My citizenship isn’t here, but sometimes I’ve tried to hide that fact. Tried to get around it. Tried to look and act like I fit right in around here and have a right to the full benefits and complete acceptance that come naturally to the natives of this world. I’ve been offended when they were denied, even tempted to compromise to get them.

Paul calls us to proudly (although not obnoxiously) display our true colors as citizens of heaven. To lift up the flag of our country – the cross of Christ. To cling to it and maintain full allegiance to the Kingdom of God and the King we have sworn to serve. It will mean living as aliens now – upside down, a bit lonely and out-of-step, sometimes something of a problem to those around us, and the brunt of some genuine protest and persecution…

But it’s treason to pretend otherwise. We’re strictly immigrants, in this world on a temporary visa. We’ve got every right to pass through, but not to settle in and put down roots and put up permanent dwellings and build monuments to ourselves.

Because we’re headed for a border crossing, confidently following the footsteps of Guide Who has already cheated death, forded the river and entered the Homeland. No guard will turn us away. No fence will keep us out. It’s where we’ll truly belong; we’ll be finally Home.

Expectation: An Attitude that Pleases God

I had a lesson on faith this week …

I lost my keys. Not for a few hours or a day, but for four days. I didn’t share the good news right away, because I knew there were a couple costly-to-replace keys on that ring and I was hoping they would just show up, but I finally fessed up. That initiated much mental backtracking and a house-wide search more thorough than the two I’d already conducted. No keys.

Well, maybe when taking the groceries out of the back of our car, I’d laid the keys on the bumper, and they’d fallen off when I made a later trip (using a spare key of course!). So I headed down the driveway and up the road, head down, scouring the sides of the road. And as I walked uphill, my attitude slid down. I lost those keys four days ago. How likely is it that they will still be lying around here? Cars go by, joggers go by, people walk their dogs past here…

Then the Lord seemed to speak to me. You don’t really expect to find those keys. You’re asking Me to do something, yet you have little hope. And a verse popped into my mind: “Whatever does not come from faith is sin” (Rom. 14:23).

Now I don’t think God was necessarily calling my lack of expectation sin, yet I felt a little chided, and deservedly so. Without faith it is impossible to please Him, so I certainly wasn’t a pretty sight to Him, trudging up that road, asking for something I doubted I’d receive, and looking for something I didn’t expect to find.

Alright then, I would trust that if God had led me down that road, He could supply the answer exactly if and when He pleased - and now was as likely a time as any! I turned to come home the opposite side, and had nearly reached our driveway, when I saw Dave coming out of the house, giving me the thumbs up. He had thought to call my mom, who discovered she’d accidentally put my keys in her purse when visiting several days earlier. The lost was found.

All that to say this: We at FAC are looking for some answers. We are headed down a road, looking for a senior pastor. It’s not a one-day search, not even a four-day! As the process unfolds, we may have growing fears and misgivings. We may find ourselves questioning the likelihood of finding, or agreeing upon, the “key” person. We may fear that a key prospect will be discovered by another and stolen from us, or the process somehow interfered with so that God can’t provide His answer. If we succumb to such fears, we’ll find ourselves trucking up this hill with our heads and attitudes down, no pretty sight to God, no source of pride or joy to His heart.

Instead, may God quicken our hearts with growing confidence in Him. We’re asking for His will; we’re waiting for His timing. His answer may not lie just where we’re looking, but we can search in expectation that somewhere down this road, we will look up and see His “thumbs up” – the lost is found, our senior pastor is here.

CreationPower

The same creative power that was at work in Creation is today re-creating us in Christ’s image, making us sanctified and holy in God’s sight.

Pastor Phillips affirmed a wonderful truth Sunday: the same Spirit that hovered over the formless, dark, empty chaos at the beginning of time is the same Spirit who brooded over your life and mine before our life in Christ began. Darkness covered the depths of our hearts and minds. And into that darkness, the same voice that spoke at creation spoke to you and I individually, “Let there be light.”

That was Day One, the first stage of our spiritual journey. Our eyes were opened. The darkness of doubt was pierced, and the Light ruled the new day.

On the Second Day, the heavens were separated from the earth. Two worlds were defined, just as they gradually become clearer to us after we give our life to Christ. Earth is not all there is; in fact, it is simply a preparation-ground for heaven, and we are pilgrims, called to set our hearts on things above.

On Day Three, the seas made place for dry ground, and we got our spiritual footing. Soon new growth appeared, like branches from a Vine, and the potential for fruit was created.

Day Four, the moon and stars were created and organized. Discipline and order was being established, just as it is when the Spirit opens God’s Word to the developing Christian and helps him or her to establish regular rhythms of worship and study and self-examination.

Day Five: life began to take root everywhere. The silent skies filled with birds; the empty seas teemed with fish. So in us, places that were achingly empty and lifeless begin to come alive. There is the sound of singing in previously vacant areas of our inner beings, and a living Presence in the lonely places of our hearts.

On Day Six, God is moving to the fulfillment of His highest goal – the creation of someone in His image. He works up to it gradually... first wild animals, then domesticated livestock… and finally the crowning achievement –man and woman, made from clay yet bearing the very breath of God within.

So it is God’s intention all along to take our bodies of clay and breathe His Spirit into us, until we stand to take possession of all He’s prepared for us. To do the work for which He made us. To enjoy an intimate relationship with Him every day in the inner garden of our hearts.

Creation… re-creation… both are a process involving the very same God, the very same power, and the very same Voice which continually encourages our progress, saying with deep divine pleasure,

“It is good.”