WAIT FOR IT ... WAIT FOR IT

This post comes from the archives of  Leonard Lee's OFF WE GO NOW .. ENCOURAGEMENT AS WE GO NOW blog that blesses me regularly. - Steve

Patience is a Virtue… A virtue is something that is morally good or righteous; therefore patience is morally good and righteous. I just spoke about patience the other day and in the middle of my message someone texted me to hurry up.  I thought it was funny.

Why is patience so… awkwardly embraced?  It’s kind of like hugging your cousin that drools and smells… or maybe you are the cousin.  I can preach about love, joy, peace (and I did, see Galatians 5:22-23) and people lean into these character traits God the Holy Spirit produces in our lives, but when we get to patience it’s the awkward embrace.

We know patience is good, right and important but for some reason we seem to live with and even excuse various levels of impatience.  Culture gives us permission to be impatient in several arenas.

• We’re allowed to be impatient when paying for a service.  It is why so many people treat servers and clerks poorly.

• We’re allowed to be impatient when driving.  After all, the guy in front is driving like an idiot.

• We’re allowed to be impatient when trying to get our way.  It’s like admitting that although patience is a virtue, winning is better than virtue.

• We’re allowed to be impatient with our kids.  Were not supposed to harm them but it seems okay to be snippy, critical and pushy.

• We’re allowed to be impatient with our spouse or other family members.  They gotta love us,

Why do we give ourselves permission to be impatient when God is working to put patience inside of us?  Why do we give ourselves permission to be impatient when God is so patient with us?

We see patience as a virtue that is primarily about us. I need to be more patient so I feel less stress, get along better, don’t feel as bad about people, drive safer…

It is true, patience makes our lives better lived.  I am happier when I am patient and grumpier when I am impatient.  As long as I see patience this way, I will see patience as an option.  In all honesty, I don’t always care about being happy as much as I care about getting my way.  I don’t always care about less stress as much as I care about getting somewhere, getting something or… winning.  This makes patience an option rather than an obligation.    In other words, I will use patience when it is advantageous to my goal and impatience when it is advantageous to my goal.  But if the goal is to be virtuous, we lose with this approach.

Another reason is we do not recognize patience for the powerful and formidable weapon it is.  God’s patience is what creates for us security, ushers us into grace, keeps us from being squished, opens the door to trust, allows us to return when we screw up big time, keeps Him from harping on us because of our pace of growth… and a whole lot more.  God’s patience, when I choose to recognize it in my life, is a bold statement of His love.  It is a really powerful tool in moving my life toward holiness and humility.

It only makes sense that God would want this powerful weapon to be wielded by His people for His purposes.  How many people would see Jesus more clearly if you were more patient?  How many people would feel safer around you if you were more patient?  If patience were your operating system, what difference would that make in those around you?

Patience gets it mojo from grace, and it is impossible to be patient without grace.  So here is the rub, if you have a problem with being patient, it is very likely a grace problem not a patience problem.  That’s all I have for today.  Off… we go now.

PRE-EMPTIVE STRIKE AGAINST WORRY

With thanks to the GOSPEL-DRIVEN CHURCH and Jared Wilson.

Rose: "Don’t be worried, Mr. Allnut.
Allnut: "Oh, I ain’t worried, miss. I gave myself up for dead back when we started."

(from The African Queen, a film by John Huston)

The Christian has been crucified with Christ, and therefore is reckoned dead to the world, so when the world offers its problems, the Christian finds worry superfluous: he has given himself up for dead back when he started.

. . . do not be anxious about anything . . .
-- Philippians 4:6

But far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.
-- Galatians 6:14

THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS

I have long been a fan of Bill Watterson and his comic strip Calvin and Hobbes. His is not as overtly theological as was Charles Schulz in Peanuts, but every once in a while (I suspect inadvertently) Calvin makes a profound statement that triggers a scriptural truth.  Here are two that I find in this particular strip.

The first is from James 4:17: "If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them." New International Version

Then Galatians 5:6." The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love." New Living Translation.

An authentic disciple understands that omission can be every bit as significant as commission when it comes to sin.  Too many of us have changed the focus from loving our neighbor as ourselves to love myself and then give my neighbor the leftovers.  Or be careful of loving my neighbor too much lest I not have enough for me. Or this one - love myself spontaneously but be sure and schedule how much I will do for my neighbor in need.

Maybe we need to walk through life with eyes wide open to opportunities to be a blessing to others, praying that our love will find greater expression than merely intellectual assent or carefully orchestrated projects.

BROKEN IS BEAUTIFUL

This video comes from the Missional Outreach Network. It describes what God in His grace does for us.

JESUS DOESN'T LIVE IN OUR BOXES

Just when we think we've solved Jesus, He turns the tables on us.

Jesus often comes to us in unexpected ways and through unexpected means.

Just think about how He came to Earth. For centuries, Israel had waited for a political Messiah. They expected Him to lead a rebellion and free Israel from Roman oppression.

But how did the Messiah make His entrance into the world? He came in a way that made it easy for His own people to reject Him. He came as a frail baby, born in a feeding room for animals. There He was. The promised Messiah who was expected to overthrow the mighty Roman Empire and set Israel free from Gentile oppression. A needy Nazarene born in a manger.

When Jesus grew up, He ate and drank in their presence and taught in their streets (Luke 13:26). Yet they didn’t recognize who He was. He was unassumingly modest, of humble origin. A mere craftsman; the son of a craftsman.

He grew up in the despised city of Nazareth, fraternizing with the despised and oppressed. But more startling, He befriended sinners (Luke 7:34). As such, the people of God didn’t recognize Him. Why? Because He came in a way that made it easy for them to reject Him.

And what about the disciples? Read the story again. Jesus continued to break out of their expectations. He couldn’t be pinned down, figured out or boxed in. The Twelve were constantly confounded by Him. His teachings were offensive. His actions scandalous. His reactions baffling.

But the greatest offense of all was the cross. It offended everyone—both Jew and Gentile. The only crown the promised Messiah-King would accept was a crown of thorns. Look at Him again. A suffering Messiah, a defeated King. It’s easy to reject Him.

One of the Lord’s most faithful disciples teaches us this principle well. Mary Magdalene was the first person to see Jesus after His death and resurrection. Do you remember what she did as soon as she recognized Him? She grabbed Him, and she wouldn’t stop clinging to Him.

Jesus responded, “Stop clinging to me” (see John 20:17, Greek text). Why did Jesus tell Mary to stop clinging to Him? Because Jesus had somewhere to go. He was on the move. Jesus was poised to go to Galilee to see the other disciples and then to ascend to His Father.

Note the principle: He was moving forward, but she was clinging to Him.

Jesus was in effect saying to her: “Mary, stop holding on to me. There’s a new way to know me that’s different from what you’ve experienced thus far. Let me go. I must move on.”

Do you remember the disciples who walked on the road to Emmaus? Their hopes were shattered by Jesus’ horrible death. Suddenly, the resurrected Christ began walking beside them, yet their eyes were blinded from recognizing Him.

However, when He engaged in the very simple gesture of breaking bread (something He had done frequently before them), their eyes were opened.
He then quickly disappeared from their sight.

These stories hold a critical insight. You cannot cling to the Christ you know today. He will vanish from your midst. Jesus Christ is an elusive Lover. Seeking Him is a progressive engagement that never ends. He doesn’t dance to our music. He doesn’t sing to our tune.

Perhaps He will in the beginning when He woos us to Himself; but that season will eventually end. And just when you think you’ve laid hold of Him, He will slip out of your grasp. He will appear to you as a stranger. But upon second glance, we’ll soon discover He’s no stranger at all. Emmaus will be repeated.

We all wish to cling to the Lord who we know now. We all wish to hold on to the Christ who has been revealed to us today. But mark my words: He will come to us in a way we do not expect—through people who we’re prone to ignore and inclined to write off.

Perhaps they don’t talk our religious language. Perhaps they aren’t theologically sophisticated. Perhaps they don’t use our vocabulary. Perhaps they don’t share our insider knowledge nor parrot our religious idioms.

And so we cling fast to the Lord we recognize—receiving only those who talk our language, use our jargon and employ our catchphrases—and all along we end up turning the Lord Jesus Christ away.

What, then, does our Lord do after we fail to receive Him when He comes to us in an unexpected way? He moves on. And the revelation we have of Him ceases to grow.

Jesus Christ is richer, larger and more glorious than any of us could ever imagine. And He comes to us in ways that make it tempting to reject Him.

When Peter, James and John saw the transfigured Lord on the holy mountain, Peter wanted to build a tabernacle for Jesus, Moses and Elijah and remain on the mountain to enjoy the encounter. But God would not allow it (Matthew 17:1-13).

There is something in our fallen nature that, like Peter, wishes to build a monument around a spiritual encounter with God and remain there. But the Lord will not have it. He will always break free from our frail attempts to pin Him down, box Him up and hold Him in place. And He does so by coming to us in new and unexpected ways.

Frank Viola is the co-author (with Leonard Sweet) of Jesus Manifesto (Thomas Nelson). You can learn more about the book at TheJesusManifesto.com. This article originally appeared in RELEVANT.

YOU MIGHT LIKE BIBLICAL JOY

In my church, like most churches, there are people who have no time for small groups.  They particularly want to be a part of a Bible study, but are unable to attend Sunday School or share in any of the other study options of the congregation.  As such they miss the opportunity to engage in an inductive of God's Word and share the thoughts and applications gleaned by others.

So we created Bibical Joy, an on-line small group Bible study.  Since part of the difficulty is a "common time," the on-line comes via a blog. People "join in" at an hour convenient to them--study the text, respond to the questions, and then share thoughts and answers with others in the group via the "comments/reply" feature available on a blog.  Currently there are 12 persons subscribed (which means identified) as part of the group.

You might want to check out what we do at BIBLICAL JOY as an idea starter for your context -- or just might want to be a new member of this group itself. You are certainly welcome.  By the way, we are in Philippians at this time. - Steve

FASTING FROM DOUBT

I’m fasting from Doubt

I am fasting from Doubt.
I am fasting from Doubt and all of its contemporaries: disbelief, fear and anxiety.
After thinking through an array of physical elements from which I might willingly abstain for 40 days (coffee, my phone, wine, Cap’n Crunch’s Crunch Berries), I realized, Doubt is the single most debilitating and destructive distraction in my life.
James 1: 5-8 reads:

“If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.”

After a brief Google search, I discovered that there are three types of ocean waves:

1. Ripples or capillary waves appear on smooth water created by blowing wind.
2. Seas are larger waves formed under irregular and unsustained winds that can last long after the winds have died out.
3. Swells are formed when seas move away from their point of origin, separating naturally as per direction and wavelength.

I used to be a long, chronic swell.
I asked, mostly in faith, and then denied the possibility.
I knocked, only to run off with impatience.
I sought, only to forget what I was looking for.
Recently, I’ve gotten into trouble, as the gathering of these small instances moved into a gradual shift of heart and mind away from my point of origin. With every prayer I’ve bounced off the ceiling, I’ve lost a bit of security, trust, faith, hope, promise, potential.
So, that was my life up until last week!
Withdrawal symptoms came on fast and strong, as I didn’t quite know what to do with all my spare time. Since denying Doubt, I realized I am able to pay attention and actually hear what’s being said. It’s rather nice to take people at their word and no longer second guess their or my motives.
I’m a bit taller since that steady slide into the black hole of tragic “what ifs” has been removed, vacuum-sealed—and I’m considering keeping it capped permanently.
In the meantime, I’m spending a lot of time in Illinois rekindling my first loves: believing the Word of God and hanging with my best friend.
(I hope to take up origami or sudoku soon… I’ve gotta do something with all this extra mental space!)
.

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Written by Juliet Richardson
(Juliet is a part of the Soul City Community who currently lives in Utah…but can’t move to Chicago soon enough!)

This post first appeared on SOUL CITY, a blog I found via Gene Reinaman of the Chambersburg First Church of God. You may want to check it out. - Steve
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A MASON JAR AND A MANILA ENVELOPE - Thoughts from Karen Spears Zacharias

Note from Steve: I am becoming a huge fan of an author/blogger Karen Zacharias. She posted this early Sunday morning, November 7th. I was up early, my sleep messed up by the time change, and read it 26 minutes after she posted. I suspect its thoughts will be with me all week and beyond. I'd be very interested in your responses.

Saturday afternoon late, the doorbell rang. Ever since the kids moved off our doorbell doesn’t ring much. Tim and I lead pretty quite lives with our books and our demonic dog. Oh. Sure. Halloween is an exception but on the day-to-day basis, especially on Saturdays, the house is pretty quiet.

I was engrossed in Tom Franklin’s novel, Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter. Tim was grading papers.  When I opened the door, there was a pretty young girl on the other side. Long brunette hair, sweet face, pink sweatshirt. At the curb beside the mailboxes was an older model SUV.

Tim and I have a rule. If kids are selling something we are buying. Our kids did their share of fundraisers. We try to be the kind of neighbors who help the kids out, the way good neighbors used to help ours out.
She did indeed have two brochures and a manila envelope clutched in her hands.

She stuttered than started again: I am selling things to help out my father who has a brain tumor.

How does that work? I asked.

What do you mean? she asked. I don’t understand your question.

I started to explain that I didn’t understand how selling things help a dad with a brain tumor. But then I stopped, remembering another girl years ago. This one about the same age, only blonder and carrying a Mason jar, instead:

Grandpa Harve had moved back to Tennessee to live with Aunt Cil, just outside Church Hill. Cil was Grandma Ruth’s sister. Mama   had sent him there because she had to have surgery to remove uterine cysts during the summer of 1967 and couldn’t care for Grandpa while she was recuperating. Aunt Sue and Thelma made sure we kids were looked after while Mama recuperated from her surgery. Spurred by my concern for Mama, I took a jar and went door-to-door throughout Lake Forest, collecting nickels, dimes and pennies.

“Do you have change you could spare?” I asked one man who answered the rap on the door.

“What’s this for?” he asked.

 “We’re buying flowers for a lady who had to have surgery,” I replied. My friend Sarah was standing beside me, not saying a word.

“Which lady?” the man inquired, pressing me for details, suspicious, I suppose.

“Shelby Spears,” I said. “My mama.”

The fellow studied me for a moment longer before dropping a dollar in the jelly jar cupped in my hands. The memory of going door-to-door, collecting money to buy Mama flowers shames me in ways I can’t explain. I was only 10. I knew no other way to earn money to do the things for Mama that I knew Daddy would do if he were around, like buy her flowers when she went to the hospital.  (After the Flag has been Folded, HarperCollins, 2006). 

We don’t want to buy anything, but we will make a donation, I said.

Tim handed me a bill from his wallet. I handed it to the girl and asked, What’s your daddy’s name? She told me. Does he have health insurance? I asked, truly concerned. Yes, she said, but this helps with other stuff.
I watched through the shutters as she walked over to the SUV. I couldn’t tell if it was her mother or her father behind the wheel.

Tim and I both felt uncomfortable afterwards.

Not about giving the money.

Unsettled that a child would be sent to collect money on behalf of a parent. When I had taken that mason jar through the trailer park collecting dimes and dollars to buy flowers my mother was in the hospital. She wasn’t encouraging me to do that. She didn’t even know I was doing it and when she found out later she was not at all happy with me.

But what’s even more unsettling is that a parent would be in a situation that would compel them to put such a burden upon a child.

These are hard times we are living in. Hard, hard times for many people.

Whatever the cause that compels them to do it, people are desperate for help. Her parents may not understand it, but I do know exactly how awful that was for that young girl to ask for help. This is a day she will remember for the rest of her life. It will shape who she becomes. I hope what she remembers years from now is not the shame but the concern & compassion others had for her.

More from Steve: How should disciples of Jesus Christ respond to the situations described here? What does it mean to serve a God of compassion?