Living on the Fringes

While watching a documentary on emperor penguins recently, I was amused by the tall tuxedoed mass huddled together for protection from the Antarctic cold. I laughed as they shuffled awkwardly, inching their way from one position to another. But I did feel sorry for the ones on the fringes, their backsides blasted with icy winds as they pressed close to the heat of the pack. It did not look like a fun place to be, even for a penguin.

The Bible draws its lessons from a much warmer climate and talks considerably more of sheep than penguins, but the principle is the same. The edge of a flock is not always a fun place to be. Those rams and lambs and ewes are in a more vulnerable position. They’re easier prey for the wolf pack. They more easily succumb to distraction and end up wandering off. They’re more likely to nibble that trail of deceptively green grass that leads away from the safety of the shepherd and the flock. And for them, the shepherd’s warning call is more distant than the rebellious suggestions of a nearby flockmate.

Similarly, when we live on the fringes of the Christian life, what blessings we miss out on. We’re so much less likely to sense the Shepherd’s nearness, enjoy His companionship, receive His affectionate caress, benefit from His rod of correction, or hear Him tenderly whisper our name (although we may hear Him shout it in warning!).

I guess in the case of penguins, somebody has got to mill about the edges, sacrificially taking the icy blast for the sake of the pack. And as for sheep, it’s physically impossible for them all to be in the inner circle. But when it comes to following Christ, the opposite is true: we can all press just as close as we want to the warmth of His love, without ever crowding anyone else out.

We can all say with the Psalmist: “But as for me, it is good to be near God” (Ps. 73:28 NIV). As far away from the fringes as possible!

My Day to Watch Him

“Am I my brother’s keeper?”

We’ve heard the story dozens of times, each time recoiling at Cain’s hardhearted, self-justifying reply when asked by God, “Where is Abel your brother?”

Cain knew exactly where Abel lay lifeless, and he knew why. And the best defense he could muster was, “Is he my responsibility? Is it my day to watch him? He’s his own person; he’s got to watch out for himself.”

That attitude didn’t even get a response from God. God skipped right to the heart of the matter, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to me from the ground…” (Gen. 4:10 Amp).

Aren’t we tempted to offer the same irrelevant excuse to God (on a more spiritual level, of course)? “Am I my brother’s keeper? Surely You can’t mean that I must refrain from doing what I feel free to do, just because it confuses and harms him? Is it up to me to shore up his shaky faith? Must I always play by his over-sensitive conscience? Does he get to set the parameters of my conduct? “

It’s really about self-indulgence, I think, most of the time. We say it’s about maintaining Christian freedom and resisting legalism, but isn’t it usually annoyance at being denied our pleasures? Isn’t it more like, “I give up enough for you, Lord… must I also give this up just for a fellow human being?”

“Whatever you do for one of the least, you do for Me.” So maybe if we recognized our “weaker” brother (and who of us is not the weaker brother in some area?) as Christ Himself, we would find it easier to say,

“My brother [or sister] is my responsibility. Today is my day to watch him. He’s part of my very own Body, the Body of Christ. And if this will offend him, it will offend Christ.

“I am my brother’s keeper. “

Giving My Life to Christ

“I am all things to all men that I may win some.”

I was struck Sunday by how very intentional Paul was… how completely he sacrificed his own way of doing things, day after day after day, in order to connect with those around him.

The whole idea of sacrificing our way of living is one we have difficulty grasping. We tend, I think, to understand that we are sinners in need of a Savior. We get the concept of confessing sin and receiving forgiveness, of needing to make a clean break with wrongdoing, of committing to going to church and praying and reading the Word, etc.

But the idea of literally “giving our life to Christ” – have we thought that through? Do we realize that it means (or should mean) more than giving him our past to forgive, and our future to secure… it means giving the here and now, the rest of our days on earth. It means that when I wake up in the morning the day is not mine to plan and the agenda is not mine to set. It’s not my life anymore – it’s His. I’ve exchanged what was mine for eternal life with Him (a pretty good deal on my part!)

If I have truly given my life to Christ, then today is his day to do with as He wishes. And so is tomorrow and the next day; so is next year, and the next, because I’ve given my life to Him – it is not my own any more.

If we could get our minds around that, and commit our wills to that, how different daily life would be! How much more easily and willingly we could adjust ourselves, as Christ would, to those around us. How much more freely we could embrace change; how much more courageously we could face down our fears in the power of the Spirit.

I don’t think we can expect any kudos from the world for living this way, but it gets rave reviews from Christ. Because finally He gets our hands and our feet and our minds and our hearts and our days… as instruments through which He can work to win lost men and women to Himself.

All things to all people… nothing in ourselves. It sounds like foolishness to the world, like we’re throwing away our only chance to make something of ourselves. But to God it sounds like the wisest choice we can make, and He’ll make sure it’s worth our while.

Be All There

The gloriosa daisies growing beside my front porch some years ago were stunning – tall, with large multi-colored daisy-faces of orange, brown and yellow. Visitors commented on them and relatives carted some of the perennials home to their own gardens.

But there was a problem with those flowers - we never knew exactly where they were going to come up! By the next year they had jumped a little to the left of where they had been planted, or even invaded the middle of a nearby flower grouping.

It didn’t matter so much to me that the daisies couldn’t be counted on to reappear in the same spot as before, but someone who was looking for true order and harmony in their landscaping design would find their plans continually rearranged!

I once heard Twila Paris, contemporary Christian singer/songwriter, emphasize a familiar piece of advice: “Bloom exactly where you are planted.”

Sometimes it’s so hard to do, isn’t it? It’s exciting and showy to jump around and invade others’ turf and send shoots out toward greener grass… in occupations and relationships and interests and, yes, sometimes even in marriage and singleness. Sunday’s sermon addressed 1 Cor. 7: 8-16, and I’d like to add verse 17:

“And don’t be wishing you were someplace else or with someone else. Where you are right now is God’s place for you. Live and obey and love and believe right there. God, not your marital status, defines your life” (The Message).

As missionary martyr Jim Elliot once said, "Wherever you are, be all there." God is not looking for restless roots and wandering thought-tendrils and feelings that are blown off-course by the slightest breeze. He’s looking for us in exactly the place He planted us, today, and the next season, and the next.

Can we trust Him to design the landscape of our lives, to do any transplanting that needs done, and to tend to every detail of our situation? Can we hold our position without whining or pining, convinced that He’s put us exactly where our bloom matters most?

I think a little more faith in the Gardener would make us more contented plants, settle us more firmly into the soil, and help us to “live and obey and love and believe” exactly where He’s planted us.

For Better or Best

I think one of the most powerful arguments for us Christian couples to work at our marriages is that marriage is, as Pastor Rick said Sunday, a sort of object lesson, a “pretaste” of our relationship as a church (the Bride) to Jesus Christ (the Bridegroom).

In For Better or Best, author Gary Smalley gives some marital advice that I will adapt for this blog. These are ways that couples can grow and stay close to each other. And don’t stop reading, singles, because there’s an application for you, too:

1. Share common experiences together. Don’t make a habit of going separate ways; plan times of togetherness.
2. Attack and conquer tragedies as a couple, not as individuals. Deal with hard times as a team.
3. Make important decisions together. The Smalley’s history of arguing was finally broken when they purposed “never to make final decisions on matters that affected both of us unless we both agreed.”
4. Develop a sense of humor. Lighten up.
5. Understand each other’s personality traits. Each of us have strengths and weaknesses, and understanding our spouse’s (and our own) can help us appreciate how we complement each other, and can also help us bear more patiently with how and why we clash!

And all of us, whether married or single, can apply these points to our relationship with Jesus. Are we going for better or for best in our life with Him?

Do Jesus and I share common experiences together? Or do I pull away in certain areas of my life, and live independently of Christ?
Do we attack and conquer tragedies together, or do I invent my own ways of coping, and adopt solutions without consulting Him?
Do we make important decisions together, with me recognizing Him as not only Bridegroom, but Lord?
Is there joy in our life together? Or has everything gotten very serious? No matter the outward circumstances, can I - to some degree at least - “be of good cheer, because He has overcome the world”?
Do I understand, or try to understand, Jesus’ perspective, His likes and dislikes? Do I appreciate His complete understanding of me? Does it give me confidence to trust His leading and stay close to Him?

Good questions for spouses… and for all believers, married or not.

Offering Leftovers

There they sat, in clear plastic storage containers with blue lids… five-day-old leftovers.

You had sniffed the meat to make sure it wasn’t spoiled. Added a fresh quarter-cup of Italian dressing to the pasta salad to bring back the zing. And stirred the watery pool that had collected on the pudding. Then you called,

“Dinner’s ready!”

So they all came and they all ate. And it was okay, maybe, for middle-of-the-week must-goes, or just-before-groceries-and-the-cupboards-are-bare. But for the Sunday meal with special guests? For dinner with the boss and his wife? For a farewell send-off party or the celebration of a special accomplishment?

Leftovers aren’t for special times or special people. They’re what’s left over from times that we did consider special, from people we did really want to honor.

So it’s worth wondering, “Who do I put out the best china for in my life? Who gets the royal treatment, the choicest cut, the freshest fare? Me? The employer? The family? The house? The bank account? The television? ...

“God?”

Few of us really intend to insult God by giving Him the leftovers of our time and energy and devotion, fitting Him in when a gnawing sense of obligation overtakes us. Few of us realize that we approach quiet time with Him like we’ve just raided the fridge… that we reconstitute the same phrases we’ve used for years, and set out our prayers in little microwaveable dishes… We just wonder why He doesn’t seem too excited about what we’ve placed before Him.

What’s exciting about getting us when we’re dead-tired and our concentration’s shot? Getting our resources only after they’ve been picked over by everyone and everything that wants a piece of us? What’s so exciting about being offered leftovers?

We need reminded that God deserves better, but He’s not going to demand it. It’s up to us to offer our best, our firstfruits, our all. To spread it all out in a lavish buffet and say to God, “You are the One I want to honor, above everyone and everything else. Here is the best that I have.

“Come and dine.”

What Can I Afford?

It’s hard for many people today to relate to their grandparent’s stories – how difficult it was during the Great Depression, the ingenious ways they came up with to earn a little money, how they made use of everything and threw almost nothing away (and, of course, how far they had to walk to the school bus :).

I especially notice it in the music… Old-time gospel songs, even songs from slavery days, were penned and sung by people going through hard times and full of the longing for better days. Songs like, “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” “Everybody Will Be Happy Over There,” “It Will Be Worth It All.” They celebrated the time when all wrongs will be made right, and rejoiced that one day everyone will finally have enough of all they want and need, and abundantly more beside. And because of that confidence, they could afford to wait.

Today there are a few notable songs about heaven, but mostly we sing about loving God and living for Him here and now. Maybe we have it comfortable enough here that we don’t think of there that much… or maybe it seems wrong to serve God now for what we’re going to get out of it in the future.

But even Christ endured the cross and despised its shame for the joy set before him (Heb. 12:2), so I think it’s okay to find strength for today by looking ahead to better times. Particularly when, like the Corinthians, we’re struggling with situations where we’re being taken advantage of, when we want to retaliate, when in the eyes of the world we have every “right” to assert our rights to our personal benefit. That’s the time to look ahead and to ask ourselves,

”What can I afford here?” Can I afford to lose a brother or sister in Christ? Can I afford to smear the church’s name? Can I afford to disappoint Christ and to disillusion watching unbelievers? Can I really afford to win my rights in this case?

A. W. Tozer used to say, “We will have all eternity to be happy. We can afford to wait.” We can endure the injustice or the inequality or the just plain unfairness of it all – for the joy set before us. We can let somebody else get there first, have the bigger piece, even take some of ours – for the joy set before us.

We can afford to wait .

P.S. To enjoy some of those good ole gospel songs, come to FAC's Gospel Celebration III on June 1!