What’s the Big Deal About Christmas?

Americans love Christmas. They plan for it, spend money on it – this year the average consumer is expected to spend over $1500 – and gather with family and friends to celebrate it. But few Americans understand why Christmas is such a big deal.

To understand what Christmas means and why it is important, we need to go back, way back. We need to go beyond Bethlehem and its mangered baby and travel all the way to Eden, for it was there that the Creator first became Immanuel. According to Genesis, God was with the first humans in a manner they could perceive and in ways that caused them to flourish.

God made the earth to be a place that would beautifully and remarkably sustain biological life. It was perfect. And on the earth, he made a place, the Garden of Eden, that was supremely suited to a particular kind of biological life: the human. He placed two humans, a man and a woman, in that ideal environment.

Biologically, he made the humans so that they could mate and multiply and fill the earth. Spiritually, he designed them so that they and all their descendants would resemble the Creator himself. He gave them characteristics that mirrored his own (appropriate to their biological form, of course) and bestowed on them the responsibility of serving as his representatives on earth.

God gave them dominion over everything on earth. His plan was to set up living images of himself – human beings – all over the planet. They were to lovingly care for the planet and for all its creatures on his behalf. Think of the earth and the universe as a kingdom, the Creator as king, and the humans as the king’s chosen regents.

As time went on the man and the woman, known to us as Adam and Eve, chose to go their own way, and their way was a long and disastrous detour. Instead of serving as the King’s regents, they chose their own path. They did not want to rule under God, they wanted to rule beside him.

They believed that they would be better off – happier, more fulfilled, more who they were meant to be – if they were autonomous. When Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit – the Bible does not say it was an apple – they were not acting like naughty children but like rebellious conspirators and, at least to some degree, they knew it. What happened in the garden was not a slip but a jump that turned into a fall.

God intended the humans to rule his world, but they were now at its mercy. Under God’s leadership, they were being groomed to rule, but when they stopped being subject to God, they became subject to fear and ruled by desire. On the very day of their revolt, there began a struggle between man and God, man and earth, and man and man. They were expelled from the garden, and the world began to fall apart. So did the humans. And, to all appearances, so did God’s plan.

The man and woman were expelled from the safety of the garden into the world they had defaced. Immanuel – the God with them of the Garden – was now the God away from them. And the separation they had introduced into that relationship also came between them. A new reality had been introduced into their world: distance. They were far from God, increasingly far from each other, and even far from themselves – the selves they were intended to be.

The humans rejected their Creator, and that is our shame. But the Creator did not reject the humans, and that is our hope. God promised to send Immanuel, the one who would bring people back to God so that the Creator and the created could be together again.

The story of the baby laid in a manger is part of this larger narrative: the story of the God who would rather die than live without us—who did die rather than live without us. For the story does not end in Bethlehem’s manger but continues to Calvary’s cross. And it is not over yet.

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Christian Nationalism: The Seduction of a Different Gospel

In an article from 2019, Newsweek summarized a Pew Research Center Study this way: “While Americans largely have a positive view of the role of religion in public life, they overwhelmingly want religious institutions to stay out of politics.” I do not know if that is an accurate summary of Pew’s research. It is, however, a sentiment that one hears expressed with increasing frequency.

The enemy du jour is Christian nationalism. The Speaker of the House of Representatives has been labeled a Christian nationalist and considered by some to be a threat to society, democracy, and interestingly, morality. Andrew Whitehead and Samuel Perry, writing in Time, claim that Speaker Johnson is “a near perfect example” of a Christian nationalist, longing for a society that “revolves around patriarchy, heterosexual marriage, and pronatalism”—the promotion of high birth rates to avoid national decline.

According to Whitehead and Perry, the Speaker’s agenda will provide “certain citizens” – think white and Christian – “easy access to various civil rights and liberties, while others should be denied access.” In other words, in the kind of nation the Speaker of the House desires, white Christians will have it made. Everyone else will be robbed of their civil liberties.

Perhaps Whitehead and Perry are correct about the Speaker, although he has not, like other members of his caucus, identified himself as a Christian nationalist. But even if the Speaker is a hard-core Christian nationalist – the Time article provides insufficient context to prove it – that is only part of the story.

The Christian brand of nationalism is not the only one on the market, and all are determined to remake America after their own image. Secular nationalists want to reshape America just as much as their Christian counterparts. Their idea of a just society is based on a worldview that is atheistic, a morality that is postmodern, and a sexual ethic built on the alarmingly nebulous principle of consent. Their ideal society is characterized by gender equality, intellectual superiority, and reproductive rights.

Why are secularists allowed to be political while religionists are not? The fact is that our citizenry is comprised of both secular and religious people, and both are guaranteed the right to express their opinions politically. America is not, and has never been, a theocracy.

Christian nationalists have the same right to pursue their vision of a better society as any other nationalists, whether they are Jews, Muslims, or atheists. I do not object to Christian nationalism because of what it wants to do to America, but because of what it is already doing to the church. Naïve Christians are transferring their loyalty from Christ to politics, and they don’t realize it.

St. Paul would call the gospel of Christian nationalism “a different gospel.” It proclaims the present realization of the kingdom of God through political might. America, rather than the Church of Jesus Christ, is the proverbial city on a hill. Legislation takes the place of God’s Spirit in conforming people to the image of Christ – whether they want to be conformed or not.

In the gospel of Christian Nationalism, it is the blood of our men and women in uniform that saves us, not the blood of the Lamb. What strength does a Lamb have compared to a Navy Seal? Christian nationalism’s saints are soldiers. To honor soldiers is a good thing. To dishonor Christ, through neglect and inattention, is not. Christians give more than lip service to Christ. They give him their highest loyalty.

The problem, once again, is not that Christians want to shape society by legislation. That is their right and, in some cases, their responsibility. The problem is not even that some secularists want to silence Christians in the public square. Let them try.

The problem is that Christians themselves are silent about Christ. They would rather talk about politics than about Jesus. They display more confidence in the power of the president than in the power of God. They have been seduced by a different gospel.

That may be nationalism, but it is not Christian. Christians put Christ first.

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He Has a Certain Way About Him

In both the Old and New Testaments, the Bible speaks about “the way of the Lord.” The biblical writers frequently urge people to walk in God’s ways. What does it mean that God has a way?

The “way of the Lord” can denote the path God takes to get somewhere or the manner God chooses to accomplish something. In either case, the way of the Lord is often very different from the way people would naturally take. As God reminds people through the prophet Isaiah, “My ways are not your ways.”

God and humans once went the same way, but the Bible makes clear that their paths have diverged. This separation is recorded early in the biblical record when the progenitors of the human race knowingly rejected God’s way and chose another. The rest of the Bible tells the story of how God brings the two come back together.

The idea that humans have left God’s way, have sinned, and are lost was once assumed my nearly everyone in the West. People understood that they were sinners who needed forgiveness and ought to follow God’s ways. That cognitive framework has largely broken down.

It has been replaced by various philosophies of self-actualization in which the problem is not sin but ignorance or social injustice. The older, biblical understanding also viewed ignorance and injustice as dangerous evils, which contribute greatly to human misery. But it took these to be the result of a more fundamental evil: humanity’s dislocation from God.

What difference does any of this make? Just this: if we see ignorance as the primary evil, we will believe that humanity’s problem can be solved through education. This belief motivated twentieth century intellectuals in their efforts to construct a better society. Those efforts have not yet proved successful.

If we believe that injustice, rooted in systemic racism or in economic inequality, is the root cause of human unhappiness, we will want to dismantle the system and build a new one. But if racism and economic inequality are themselves caused by an older and deeper evil, whatever system we build will also need to be replaced.

That older, deeper evil is humanity’s rejection of the “way of the Lord.” Until they return to it, ignorance, racism, and economic equality will continue to ravage mankind. But how will people return to God’s ways if not through education and systemic reforms?

The answer is that they cannot, at least not on their own. They need help. And that help has been, and is being, given. The means by which this help is offered is told in the biblical story of redemption.

After describing the consequences of mankind’s choice to go its own way, recorded in Genesis 3-11, Scripture recounts the steps God is taking to bring humanity back to himself and his ways. This is the story of the Bible. It begins when God chooses one person, Abraham, to be the channel through which he will bless all peoples on earth.

God chooses Abraham “so that he will direct his children and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord by doing what is right and just…” Abraham’s family (later tribe, then nation) was supposed to keep, rather than leave, God’s way, as the first humans had done.

The rest of the Old Testament tells the successes and failures, but mostly failures, of that nation “to keep the way of the Lord.” The New Testament picks up the story with Abraham’s long awaited descendent Jesus. He not only keeps the way of the Lord but inaugurates a new non-ethnic people of God who will also walk in his ways.

God’s ways are mentioned throughout the Bible, but in Deuteronomy they are a constant theme. Chapter 10 elaborates on God’s ways, giving numerous examples: he “shows no partiality and accepts no bribes … defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the alien.”

We think of such things as ethical standards, but they are more: they are God’s ways. Those ways have proved too steep for us to travel, but God will help. That help comes through his Son, who is known as “the Way,” and his Spirit. 

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Life’s Detours: What You Need to Know

A reasoned defense of God’s goodness and love in the face of suffering and evil is known as a theodicy. Examples of theodicy can be found in the works of philosophers like Leibniz, Hick, and Plantinga. I cannot hope to add substance to their efforts, but I would like to offer an illustration.

Imagine taking a ride with Jesus in a 1966 Cadillac Coupe Deville convertible from New York to Los Angeles. A road trip with Jesus – wouldn’t that be great? You assume you know the way the Lord will take: I-80 to the Colorado line, I-76 to Denver, I-70 into Utah where you will pick up I-15 almost to San Bernardino. There you’ll get on 210 and follow it to 605 and then take Route 10 into L.A.

That makes sense. It is the quickest route. But the Lord knows about a billion things you don’t. He knows there will be traffic jams in Hoboken, Stroudsburg, Youngstown, Chicago, Des Moines, and twelve other spots, so he avoids them. He bypasses the hailstorm in White Haven. He knows there is a wonderful state park just off I-76 near Uniontown, PA, which you are going to love. And there is an ice cream parlor in Wooster, OH that he particularly likes. They have a dark chocolate ice cream with chunks of fudge, which Jesus says is the best in the world.

Jesus also knows that a 74-year-old man and his wife are traveling to visit their son who, unbeknownst to them, will die later this year. They will blow a tire on the south side of Bloomington and the man will have a heart attack while he is trying to get the lug nuts off. So, Jesus takes an alternate route that leads through central Indiana so that you can change a tire. And then, there is a waitress in a diner in St. Joseph, Missouri, a single mom with bills that are piling up, and whose ex is suing for full custody of their only child. She feels like she is losing her mind and really needs someone to give her hope – as well as a big tip – and you are just the person to do that.

Then there is the drunk driver outside Severance, Kansas. Of the thirteen people who notice him weaving, only you call 911. His arrest and brief incarceration are what lead him to sobriety. And there is a poet in a coffee shop in Oklahoma City who overhears one line of your conversation that sets his creativity on fire and someday earns him the title of Poet Laureate of the United States.

If you were to see that route plotted on a map, it would make no sense at all. But that is because you don’t know what the Lord knows. All you know is that I-80 is the most direct route between where you are and where you want to go.

Most people think they know the most direct route between where they are and where they hope to be. But why doesn’t God take that route? One’s whole life seems to have been a series of detours. Forcing one’s way along a chosen route often makes things worse, not better.

God’s ways, St. Paul insists, are impossible to understand. We will never guess them beforehand. We have a better chance of guessing the winning Powerball Lottery numbers, but even that would not make us as happy as we could be if we trusted God’s wisdom and love.

No one qualifies for the role of God’s counselor, though many people have applied for the job. I have often given the Lord recommendations and sometimes, I think, he has worked them into the plan. That’s called grace. But I could not be God’s counselor any more than a preschooler could counsel Albert Einstein on the development of Relativity Theory. I can’t see a trillion things at once, things present, past, and future. But God can.

Evil will always be a problem for a small God. But the God revealed by Jesus is not small. His knowledge and ability – and his goodness – exceed the fancies of our most imaginative writers and the speculations of our greatest philosophers.

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The Only Animal that Asks Why

Some people approach life as if it were an Agatha Christie novel. They want to solve the mystery, explain everything the way Hercule Poirot does in the great “reveal” that happens at the end of each story.

I once had a professor who could explain life’s profoundest mysteries in three to five points. He wrapped everything up neatly, even God. He was a respectable, intelligent man, but even when I was young, I realized that his explanations were an oversimplification.

Recently, Stanford University neurology and biology professor Robert Sapolsky declared that human beings do not have free will and therefore “holding people morally responsible for their actions is wrong.” It seems to me that if people don’t have free will, those who hold others morally responsible are themselves not responsible. So, to say they are “wrong” is simply meaningless.

Of course, Dr. Sapolsky was trying to clear up one of life’s great mysteries: the universal human perception of free will. I suspect some of his colleagues in Stanford’s renowned philosophy department will strongly disagree with him. But either way, they are all engaged in trying to solve a mystery.

The desire to demystify life is understandable. What we do not understand we cannot control, and what we cannot control we fear. The longing to solve mysteries comes from our very human need to manage our environment.

Some people, my professor was one, cannot rest until they have explanations. The unknown haunts them like Hamlet’s ghost. If they could, they would suck the mystery out of everything.

They won’t succeed, for we are not only surrounded by mystery; we are a mystery. “Man,” said Charles Colton, “is an embodied paradox.” Our biological makeup is blueprinted in the 3.2 billion nucleotide pairs that comprise our DNA. Each nucleobase can pair in one of four ways. What that means is the number of possible combinations in any one person is greater than the number of atoms in the universe. Why did the billions of nucleotide pairs combine in the particular way that produced you? It is a mystery.

No wonder humans are inveterate explorers of mystery. We are animalis interrogatio, the questioning animal, the only one that asks, “Why?” Finding answers is one of our chief joys. We cannot not seek, for seeking is in our nature.

That is how God designed us. St. Paul told the philosophers of Athens that God set things up as he did so that people “would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him.” We seek God, the ultimate truth, as a cell phone scans for wireless networks and for the same reason: we were designed to do so.

Like Poirot and his predecessor Sherlock Holmes, we cannot be happy if we do not have a mystery to solve. That means our potential for happiness is unlimited, for we shall never run out of mysteries. But we must learn to embrace mystery, not fear it.

Mystery is not a threat but a promise. It promises to be our teacher and offers us knowledge we could not otherwise attain. Satisfaction does not come from the annihilation of mysteries, but from the fruitful exploration of them.

As a young pastor, I squirmed when I came to biblical passages I did not understand. Wasn’t it my job to clear away all mysteries? How can one God exist as three persons? In what sense did Jesus descend into hell, as the creed declares? How can a loving God allow people to suffer? I found these and dozens of other questions threatening.

I have since learned that difficult questions like these are invitations to fresh knowledge about God. I no longer fear them. I follow them as guides.

What helped me most was the realization that I did not need answers as much as I needed the Answerer. Answers, even true ones, do not satisfy. The answerer does.

All my answers have not dispelled the mystery but have taken me deeper into it. It is in those depths that encounters with God can take place. Even there, we do not uncover the secrets of his mind, but we do discover the kindness of his heart.

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Do Not Grow Weary (Galatians 6)

This 29-minute sermon from Galatians 6:1-10 encourages us not to give up when things get tough. Click the link Do Not Grow Weary to listen or read the manuscript below.

Emmet Smith, the great running back for the Dallas Cowboys, was just 5-foot-9 and weighed 210 pounds. That’s pipsqueak size in the National Football League. But he holds one of the most impressive records in pro sports: the career rushing record. In his 15 years in the NFL he rushed for 18,355 yards. That’s almost 10-and-a-half miles!

What’s even more impressive is that on his way to the 101/2 mile mark, some colossus on the other side kept knocking him down every 4.2 yards, on average. Can you imagine getting slammed to the ground every thirteen feet for ten miles? But Emmet Smith kept getting up. That’s what it takes to win. It takes endurance. And that’s what this short series is all about.

Today’s message is for those of you who’ve been knocked down and are thinking about just staying there. You’ve become weary. You’re not sure that you have the energy to get back up – or the desire. Well, that’s an experience that others in this room share and have shared.

            Today I’m going to encourage you to get back up. If you say, “I can’t,” I’ll answer: “You can.” If you say, “Why should I?” I’ll answer, “There is more riding on this than you can imagine.” If you say, “How can I?” I’ll answer, “Let’s look at our text: Galatians 6:1-10.” It’s a text that has something to teach us about perseverance.

Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. If anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself. Each one should test his own actions. Then he can take pride in himself, without comparing himself to somebody else, for each one should carry his own load. Anyone who receives instruction in the word must share all good things with his instructor. Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers. (Galatians 6:1-10 NIV)

            Chapter six begins with reference to a problem: a person “caught” in a sin. Paul might be thinking of someone whose sinful behavior has been detected – the word can be used that way – but he might also have in mind the person who has been caught like a fly in a spider web. He got too close to something harmful and now he’s wrapped up in it and doesn’t know how to get out.

            The word the NIV translates as “sin” is not the usual Greek word, but one that means something like “a false step” or a “trespass.” In other words, this person who is “caught” fell into something wrong inadvertently, he didn’t rush into it on purpose. The wrongdoing may be, as the New Testament scholar Alan Cole argues, false (but fascinating) teaching that has caught hold of a person, or it may be a behavior or a habit that ensnared him or her.

            Paul says “You who are spiritual” – meaning people who live in and keep step with the Spirit (Galatians 5:25); whose lives are plainly under the influence of God’s Spirit – “should restore him.” Paul didn’t know anything about NFL rushing records, but he knew that people take missteps and get knocked down. If they’re going to get back up and persevere they are going to need brothers and sisters to help them.

            The word translated “restore” is used in the Gospels of the disciples repairing their fishing nets – cleaning them and sewing up the holes – so they would be ready for use the next time. If we are going to persevere in our service to Christ, we will need to undergo repairs from time to time – and we are going to have to help each other with that.

            But do it gently, Paul says (or literally, do it “with meekness”). Destroying people doesn’t require gentleness, but restoring people is delicate work and only those who are led by the Spirit should try. “But watch yourself,” Paul warns, “or you may also be tempted.” He doesn’t say exactly what that temptation may be. Perhaps to the sin that has caught your friend. Or perhaps to the sin – more destructive still – of pride and spiritual superiority.

            In verse 1 Paul is instructing the Galatians about what to do when a fellow Christian succumbs to temptation. In verse 2 he tells them what to do when a fellow-Christian is weighed down by a burden. In verse one, the Christian has wandered off the path and needs someone to help him get back on it. In verse 2, the Christian is still on the path, but the weight he’s carrying threatens to crush him.

The word translated “burdens” in verse 2 was sometimes used metaphorically of sorrows or griefs, but here it is probably more general. The burden could be an illness, a financial weight or a relational difficulty. It could be an addiction or a bereavement. The burden is the thing that weighs a person down, that threatens his or her perseverance in following Christ. It is important to note that we are called to carry one another’s burdens, not solve one another’s problem. Solving problems will often be beyond our ability. But carrying the burden, offering relief and encouragement, is something we can do.

            You may have heard of Sir Edmund Hillary, the first man to climb to the summit of Mount Everest. But have you heard of Tenzig Norgay, the Sherpa guide who accompanied him? On the way back down the mountain, when Sir Edmund fell, Tenzig Norgay rescued him. He would have died had Norgay not pulled him back up the cable.

            When asked why he never bragged about what he’d done, Norgay answered simply, “We mountain climbers help each other.”[1] That’s what we Christ-followers do, too. We help each other.

            What does this have to do with the subject of this sermon series, with perseverance? In the Christian life, people persevere best when they have others to help … and others to help them. Perseverance wanes when we are alone.

But while we must be quick to carry other’s burdens, we must not be quick to fault others for not carrying ours. Indeed, we have a load that other Christ-followers cannot carry. When we read this text, it may seem to us that Paul is contradicting himself, especially if we read it in the King James Version, which translates: “bear … one another’s burdens” in verse 2 but “each man shall bear his own burden” in verse 5. But the burdens of verse two and the burden of verse 5 are different types of burdens. Paul even uses different words to represent them in the original language.

I believe the word in verse 2 refers to a heavy burden that comes to a Christ-follower for a time – illness, a financial weight, a relational difficulty; an addiction or a bereavement – and can cause him or her to give out. We need to help each other carry those burdens. But the burden (or load) of verse 5 refers to the specific life work given to each of us by the Lord, and for which he will hold us accountable. It is the same word used when Jesus said, “For my burden is easy and my yoke is light.” I can share your temporary burden and you can share mine, but we cannot be responsible for the life-work God has entrusted to another. Only Jesus has the power to share that with us.

Sometimes people get this wrong. They try to shuffle the responsibility God gave them off on others. They start comparing themselves to others. They think of times they helped others but cannot remember times when anyone helped them. They pride themselves on what they’ve done for others but anger themselves over what others have not done for them. That kind of thinking is the death knoll for perseverance. If you are engaging in it, I plead with you to stop. If you say, “But it is not fair,” I can only say: “Fair or not, you’re poisoning your own spirit with those thoughts. Please stop.”

Now look at verse 7: “Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows.” Paul has switched metaphors on us. He’s gone from carrying loads to sowing seeds. But both kinds of work – burden-bearing and seed-sowing – require perseverance. And when it comes to seeds sowing, it can take a long time before one sees any results.

We were in California earlier this year, and we marveled at the miles and miles of vineyards we drove by. I understand that working a vineyard requires great perseverance. At the beginning of the first growing season, a vintner will plant vine shoots and at the end of that first season, he will cut them back. A second year passes. He cuts them back again. It takes three years before he has any usable grapes. But even then, he leaves the clusters on the vine. For most vintners, it will be year four before they bring in their first harvest.

If they are growing grapes for winemaking, it takes even longer. Those vintners won’t see the fruit of their labors for seven or eight years. In fact, most vineyards in Napa Valley don’t reach the breakeven point for their investment until fifteen years or more have passed.[2] There is always a lag time between planting and harvesting – both in the agricultural and the spiritual worlds. It is a principle in both realms: We live off last season’s fruit. Your life is what it is because of seeds you planted months ago and, in many cases, years ago.

Paul points out another principle here, an inviolable one: A man reaps what he sows. We know that’s true in agriculture. If I plant rutabagas I’m not going to harvest potatoes. It would be crazy to think otherwise. But somehow people think that they can plants seeds of self-promotion, greed and sexual immorality and still harvest love, joy and peace. That’s just as crazy.

In the little garden Karen and I plant we have a variety of vegetables: potatoes, beans, tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, and sometimes peas, carrots and onions. I don’t always remember exactly where we’ve planted what, but when the plants begin to grow, I usually figure it out. Sometimes even then I can’t tell the grape tomato plant from the Rutgers, or the yellow squash from the zucchini, but it becomes clear when the fruit finally begins to form. When it comes to which kind of seed has been planted, I can’t be mocked.

And when it comes to the spiritual crop we’ve planted, God cannot be mocked. (The etymology of the word is to “turn up one’s one.”) What we’ve planted will grow, whether we planted in secret or in public; whether we were careful about the seed we were sowing or were careless; and whether or not we now wish the plants would come up. What we plant, grows.

When preachers talk about sowing seed, they’re usually thinking about evangelism; about spreading the gospel through the witness of word and deed. But Paul has a different aspect of sowing in mind. The harvest that Paul has in mind is reaped in your own life. You become the kind of person you’ve prepared yourself to be by the seed you’ve sown. As John Stott remarked, “It’s not the reapers who decide what the harvest is going to be like, but the sowers.” And we are the sowers.

You can, verse 8, sow to (that is, with a view to) the sinful nature (literally, the flesh) or with a view to the spirit. The translation “sinful nature” can be misleading. The flesh is not evil or sinful in itself. That is important to understand. God created us in such a way that our flesh (the powers resident in the physical body) were to be governed by the spirit. There is an order in creation and within human beings themselves that cannot be altered without serious consequences. When that order is messed up – for example, when the flesh operates without regard to the spirit (which is the disaster that happened when humans turned from God) – people find themselves stuck in all kinds of ruinous patterns of behavior. The flesh simply cannot rule itself

To sow to the flesh is to invest in life apart from God and without reference to your own spirit. That kind of life is defined by its natural appetites and sensations, and is subject to, as Paul puts it in verse 8, destruction (or better, corruption or dissolution). It is a life that falls apart.

The perfect biblical example of someone who sows to the flesh is the rich farmer in Jesus’s parable. He says, “I’ll say to myself, ‘You have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry’” (Luke 12:19). Now it is important to understand that there is nothing wrong with eating and drinking and being merry. In fact it is a good thing. The problem was that the farmer lived without reference to God or even to his own spirit. He violated his own nature – violated the way he was made to run – by limiting his life to natural appetites and sensations.

Paul knows where that kind of life leads: to destruction. Not because it is so evil, but because it is so weak. The flesh cannot survive without spirit. Its powers fail. It falls apart.

The other way to live is in reference to the spiritual – to God himself and to our own human spirits. We can sow – that is, we can invest in – the spirit. The NIV capitalizes Spirit, as though it refers to the Divine Spirit, but I rather doubt that is what Paul had in mind. We can sow with a view to our spirit, so that it grows and flowers and produces fruit.

How do you sow to the spirit? What might that entail? I can mention a few things, but there are many more. First, we can invest in sound biblical teaching – that is the point of verse 6, where the idea is that we should financially support true teachers of the word. We can practice spiritual disciplines – actions that prepare the spirit – like prayer, Bible reading, worship, fasting, solitude and others. These are actions we take in the present to prepare us spiritually for the future. We practice these actions in order to form “habits on the basis of the grace of God,” as Oswald Chambers put it. “If we refuse to practice, it is not God’s grace that fails when a crisis comes, but our own nature. When the crisis comes, we ask God to help us, but He cannot if we have not made our nature our ally.”[3]

In verse 10 we see another way to sow to the spirit: we can use every opportunity to do good to everyone. Doing good here is intentional. In the language of spiritual formation, we are engaging in the discipline of service. When we do good for others – every time we do good for others – we are changed. Every good thought and deed toward another person is a seed planted, and it will bear fruit.

Let me tell you what happens when a person sows to the spirit consistently over a lifetime. He or she becomes increasingly full of love – what a beautiful thing that is! He or she becomes increasingly joyful; the problems of life, even the imminence of death, cannot rob his or her joy. That person increasingly lives a life of peace. The events of life may be rough on the surface, but below the surface there is peace that remains undisturbed. That person is experiencing the eternal kind of life even now. It is a beautiful thing.

I have seen it, usually in men and women who have been sowing to the spirit for many years. “Some of the most beautiful people I have ever seen” – these are the words of the philosopher Dallas Willard, “are elderly people whose souls shine so brightly their bodies are hardly visible.”[4] He lists some such people: Malcom Muggeridge, Dorothy Day, and Agnes Sanford. And I would add to that list Ken West, William Mack and Dallas Willard himself. The wise man knew how this works. He said, “The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn, shining ever brighter till the full light of day” (Proverbs 4:18).

But here is the thing. It takes time to reap the harvest when we sow to the spirit. I am reaping some of it now, and enjoying it immensely, but there is much more to come than I have yet tasted. People who sow to the flesh see their path grow ever darker as they go through life. Their returns diminish. They know that death will end all light. But not so the people who sow to the spirit. Their last day on earth merely opens the door to the glories of heaven.

But because it takes time, it is possible to grow weary. Seeds sown to the flesh grow faster, but die sooner. Seeds sown to the spirit grow slowly but last forever. But because we don’t see changes in a day or in a month or sometimes even in a year, we can become weary, verse 9, and give up. We can give up doing good for others and focus on ourselves – that is, on our flesh.

I say, we can become weary. Let me speak more plainly: I can become weary. I have at times been very weary and have become all self-focused – that is, I have sown to the flesh. I need you to encourage me to keep going. I need you to help carry my burdens. And you need me. We need each other. The only way we will fail is if we fail to persevere. “We will reap a harvest,” verse 9, “if we do not give up.” And what a harvest!

Some people have learned how to sow to the spirit and are competent at it (like a good farmer), and some don’t understand it very well and are incompetent at it (like a poor farmer). But whether he is good at it or not, everyone who sows to the spirit will reap a harvest, unless he gives up. Don’t give up.

And know this: the smallest seed you can sow is a thought, but you sow so many of them that they are phenomenally important to the harvest. So mind your thoughts. Don’t plant thoughts of discontent, of foolish comparisons, resentment or envy. Instead, turn your thoughts to “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things” (Philippians 4:8).

Let me close with a story from Pastor Dale Durie that illustrates the harvest that comes to those who persevere in sowing to the spirit. One autumn afternoon, Durie’s grandparents were at home when they heard a knock at the door. It was a neighbor, a widow, who said to his grandfather, “I was out feeding the horses, and I felt like God was prompting me to come and say thank you for the difference you’ve made in my life.”

She sat down and began relating one story after another of how grandfather had helped her; how he’d cared for the cows and horses and done all of kinds of practical things around the farm. She went through a litany of good deeds, including the help he gave her in making peace with some of her children. She thanked him for being so real. She finished with, “I just felt like God wanted me to tell you that.”

Durie’s grandfather looked at her and said, “It was the Lord Jesus Christ who did it.”

After a pause, Durie’s grandmother began chatting with the neighbor. A few seconds later they heard a cough and turned to see grandfather slumped over. He was with Jesus. His last words on earth were, “It was the Lord Jesus Christ who did it.”[5]

That was a man whose path was shining ever brighter until he reached the full light of day. He did not grow weary in doing good, and he reaped a harvest. That’s what I want for my life, but I need your help. When I grow weary, come and help me. And when you grow weary, I’ll come and help you. And when it is all over, we won’t say, “See what I did!” We will say, “It was the Lord Jesus Christ who did it.”


[1]Calvin Miller, “From Entertainment to Servanthood,” Preaching Today Tape #132

[2] Margaret Feinberg, “Napa Valley on Leadership,” Q Shorts, http://www.Qideas.org

[3] Oswald Chambers, “The Psychology of Redemption, 26-27. Quoted in Dallas Willard, The Spirit of the Disciplines, p. 118.

[4] Dallas Willard, The Divine Conspiracy, p. 211

[5] Dale Durie, from the sermon Mission Possible (6-1-03)

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The Vacant House: A Horror Story Jesus Told

Photo by Tanmoy Pal on Pexels.com

Jesus once told a story about an “impure spirit” that “comes out of a person” and “goes through arid places seeking rest” but does not find it. The spirit then says to itself, “I will return to the house I left.” It does so and finds the house, which is a person, “unoccupied, swept clean, and put in order.”

At this point, Jesus’s tale sounds very much like a horror story. The spirit “goes and takes with it seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that person is worse than the first.”

Having recently celebrated Halloween, Jesus’s story seems timely. Though people once thought of Halloween – the eve of All Hallows – as a religious vigil that preceded All Saints Day, it is now considered a time of darkness, demons, and ghouls. So, Jesus’s story about an impure spirit – we could probably say, “demon” – living inside a human being seems like an apt subject.

If Jesus’s parable is a horror story, it is an unusual one. The horror is not located in demons, which never frightened Jesus, but in the fact that a person – and even a generation of people, as Jesus made clear – can become a place where unclean things live. Humans were designed so that they could be joined to each other and, more importantly, to God. They were not made to be alone. “It is not good,” according to God himself, “for the man” – the human being – “to be alone.”

When humans are alone, neither joined to God nor to people, they can be joined to other things. Some people, including some theologians, think that the existence of unclean spirits and demons is a myth that humanity should have outgrown long ago. They scoff at the idea. But the Bible takes seriously the presence of spiritual beings that are opposed to God. Humanity lives in a war zone.

And we can’t be neutral. That is a major point of Jesus’s story. Neutrality is defeat. We must take a side.

In his story, Jesus says that the impure spirit or demon goes about “seeking rest” but not finding it. That spirits, whether angels or demons, feel the need for rest reveals how little we know about such things. It then decides to return to the house it left – “my house,” in the original language – and finds it clean and orderly but unoccupied.

Jesus seems to be picturing people who have reformed their behavior, maybe even started attending religious services, but whose interior life is vacant. They have no place for God. They are temporarily clean, but empty—like a motel on a lonely stretch of road, flashing a neon vacancy sign for all and sundry.

We must remember that humans were designed to be joined. They are like ions – unequally charged atoms. Ions either have a positive charge – more protons than electrons – or a negative charge, more electrons than protons. When atoms are out of balance like that, they are said to be unstable, and are quick to pick up or to shed electrons.

When people are unstable, which happens when they lack God, they are quick to pick up something in his place. That something may be detrimental. Jesus makes that point in his story: “It goes and takes with it seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there.” The original language is something like, “settle down there.”

It is clear that Jesus was not merely talking about individuals because he adds, “That is how it will be with this wicked generation.” It is the fourth time he has spoken of a generation in the space of a few paragraphs. Jesus worked to overturn the powers of darkness and liberate an entire generation, but people – including religious leaders – were welcoming the dark powers’ return by their rejection of God.

That is where the horror lies in this story. When people turn God away, they forfeit their protection from the evils that haunt humanity. That, sadly, is where the current generation finds itself. The vacancy sign is lighted, and evil has taken up residence.

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Saying Farewell to the Church We Love

This past Sunday, I finished up my work as the lead pastor at Lockwood Community Church in Coldwater, MI. I have been in this role, in this place, with these people for 35 years. I did not end my service here because I wanted to move on to something better, nor because I was unhappy. I ended my work here because I believed the Lord instructed me to do so.

Below is a video of our Ministry Celebration. I was touched to hear friends, only and new, and our secretaries, administrative assistants, and especially our sons share. I hope you will find the video encouraging. If you only have a short time, watch our sons and they speak briefly (at 42:24).

35 Year Ministry Celebration

We will spend at least a year away from Lockwood, giving the new pastor a chance to get settled. Then, if he and the church’s elders believe it would be helpful, we would like to return. In the meantime, we hope to spend time with another church family, serving, encouraging, and being built up. I also hope to work on a novel set in the early 18th century Germany, England, and America – but more about that later.

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How Great Is Our God (Romans 11:33-36)

Viewing Time:24 minutes (approx.)

Oh, the depth of the riches and the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out! “Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor?” “Who has ever given to God, that God should repay them?” For from him and through him and for him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen. (Romans 11:33-36).

Next Sunday I will preach my final sermon as the pastor of Lockwood Community Church. With only this and one more sermon to go, I am tempted to talk about our time here, to reminisce about all the good things, to warn you about the future, to laugh at the happy times and weep at our parting. I want you to know how we feel about you and how grateful we are to know you.

As I say, I am temped; but I’m not going to give in to the temptation. I will focus instead on the greatness of our God. Karen and I are finishing up. Our God is continuing on. He is the One you must love and trust. It is to him that your gratitude is due. I have made more mistakes than I know or could possibly recount. He has made none. So, I want to talk about him. I want to help you lift your eyes to him, and your hearts, to trust him and serve him.

Romans 9-11 is an extended parenthesis in the ongoing argument Paul is making for the goodness of God and the greatness of the gospel. There is a reason for this parenthesis. If God is so good and the gospel is so great, why do so few Jewish people – the covenant people of God – believe it? God made promises to his covenant people, many promises, based on his inviolable word. So, what happened? Has God’s word failed? That is, has God failed to keep his word?

It might look that way. Israel’s God had allowed them to be conquered and exiled from their land. And ever since they had returned, they had been a subjugated people. First, they had Babylonian overlords. Then Persian. Then Greek. Though there was a brief glimmer of hope, darkness closed in again with the coming of the Romans, who tyrannized and oppressed them for a hundred years.

So, how can it be said that God kept his word? If he had, would things have worked out like this? That is the objection that Paul feels compelled to answer in Romans 9-11. He lets us know that is what he is doing right at the beginning of this section when he writes, “It is not as though God’s word failed” (Romans 9:6).

But if that is the case, Paul, you have some explaining to do. What’s more, God has some explaining to do. Where was God when Israel went into captivity? You say that captivity was the punishment for idolatry, but if God is all-knowing and all-powerful, why did he allow his people to ruin their lives and corrupt their minds with idolatry? He could have stopped that before it started. Why didn’t he?

And as long as we are demanding an explanation from God, there are some things closer to home that we’d like to know. Where was God when a child, heart of his parents’ hearts and love of their lives, died? Where was God when our job got downsized and marriage troubles ensued? Why didn’t God stop our teenager from ruining her life with that drug dealing delinquent who got her pregnant? Where was God then?

Paul is not here trying to answer questions about God’s action (or inaction) in our personal lives, but what he says about God and his faithfulness to Israel speaks to our situations too. Paul’s answer – and this is an overly simplistic summary – is that God took the people of Israel’s unfaithfulness into account from the beginning and incorporated it into his plan. He did not stop them from selling their soul through idolatry, but he wove their redemption into his plan.

So, what about the drug dealing hoodlum – is he part of the plan? Yes. In ways that have nothing to do with you and your daughter and in ways that do. What about the failure of a marriage? God took it into account. He wove it into his plan. He didn’t cause it, any more than he caused Israel’s idolatry, but it did not stymie him for a second. Paul’s answer is that God is bigger than you know or can possibly imagine. His will is not something separate from us that we can be part of or not, like an optional excursion on a Caribbean cruise. We are a part of God’s will, whether we like it or not. His plan incorporates our choices, even our sinful, stupid ones, even our rebellion.

His plan is not some single strand of divine will that might be severed. It is not a single strand but a network. It is not one line of action but a trillion trillion lines, simultaneously incorporating all the actions of his creatures and the accidents of nature. Think of the Russian nesting dolls, the Matryoshka dolls that you have seen. One doll conceals another within it, which conceals another, and another, and another. God’s will is like that. The very personal thing that happens to us is located within a larger aspect of God’s will, which is located within yet a larger aspect of his will. We live somewhere in the nesting dolls of God’s will and, if we are Christ’s, we are perfectly safe there.

That does not mean that bad things might not happen to us. In fact, in this terribly broken world, bad things will happen to us. It is guaranteed. But it does mean that nothing can happen, absolutely nothing, that God cannot incorporate into – has not already incorporated into – his good, gracious, glorious plan for us and for all creation. There is no obstacle that will prevent God from achieving his good purpose.

But what about Satan, our adversary, the devil? Satan himself is within the nesting dolls of God’s will. God did not make him rebel, but God incorporated his rebellion into his beautiful and perfect will. Satan cannot stop God. He is an ant in the way of a bulldozer. He is a wisp of fog that disappears forever in the blazing sun. He is not God’s rival – God has no rivals.

Satan is, of course, more than a rival to us – at this point in our development. But God has incorporated him and his opposition into the plan. What is the plan? The all-encompassing version of God’s plan is to sum up all thing under one head—Christ himself (Eph. 1:10). That will include transforming human beings into Christ’s image (Romans 8:29). And then all things will be wonderfully subjected to God and God will be all in all (1 Cor. 15:28). Nothing can stop this plan. Not the devil and certainly not some drug-dealing delinquent. You can’t stop it, and neither can I.

But that is hard for us to believe when our daughter is going out with that hoodlum, when the future is threatening, and we are gripped by fear. It is so easy for us to panic, to try to wrench control and force things to go our way. We can see this dynamic at play in the history of Israel.

Near the end of Judah’s monarchy (you can read about this in 2 Kings) King Jehoiachin rebelled against the Babylonians, was deposed, and his uncle Zedekiah assumed the throne. Zedekiah vacillated between submission and rebellion, between seeking God and trying to take things into his own hands. Several years into his reign, Zedekiah also rebelled. The Babylonians attacked and laid siege to Jerusalem, which went into lockdown for two years. Food supplies ran so low that some people resorted to cannibalism. It was an unimaginably horrible time.

Just when the City reached the point of desperation, the Babylonians broke through the wall. The army fled out the gate on the other side of the city, but emaciated as they were, the Babylonians quickly caught up with them. It was a slaughter.

A ruthless Babylonian official was deployed to Jerusalem to finish the work. He ordered all the principal buildings destroyed and burnt to the ground. He had the city walls demolished. He took from the temple all its treasures, including the brass sea, the altar, all the sanctified serving utensils of gold and silver and sent them to Babylon. Then he set the temple ablaze. When he was done, there was nothing left. The temple, the pride of Jerusalem, the heart of Judaism in the world, was gone.

People had not believed this was possible. They did not believe God would ever allow the temple, his dwelling place on earth, to be harmed. Now it was gone. God was gone. Life made no sense.

Those who survived were forcibly removed from Israel to Babylon. Families were torn apart. The depth of anguish was too profound to plumb. There would be no more happiness. No more faith. Just hateful masters. Just slavery.

How could this happen when God had promised David that he would always have an heir to reign from his throne? The Babylonians forced Zedekiah to watch his sons, heirs to the throne, executed, and then had his eyes gouged out. The commander wanted the brutal death of his sons to be the last thing Zedekiah would ever see. David’s line was being decimated and God’s promise appeared to be in jeopardy.

But remember the former king, Jehoiachin? He had been deposed and taken to Babylon, where he was held as a political prisoner for more than three decades. But when a new Babylonian king came to power, Jehoiachin was released. He was given the status of a royal visitor and ally. His family flourished in Babylon.

When the exiled ended, Jehoiachin’s family returned to Israel to be part of the resettlement. That family would live in and around Jerusalem for the next six hundred years. One branch of the family settled in Bethlehem.

You remember Bethlehem, right? What was it that the prophet had said about Bethlehem during the reign of good King Hezekiah, 140 years before all this horror? “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times” (Micah 5:2).

God’s master plan was in full motion before anyone knew there would be a war, an exile, or a return. But God knew. He knows everything. Paul, some 700 years after Micah’s prophecy, wrote: “…when the time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under law…” (Galatians 4:5). God preserved David’s line through Jehoiachin and sent his only begotten son to Bethlehem, just as he promised. This is the untraceable, inscrutable wisdom and knowledge of God.

But that was then. That was Israel. What about us? What about us when a child dies, when a marriage fails, when a teenage girl gets pregnant? What about us when our world seems as dark as night? Where is God’s wisdom? Why isn’t he doing something?

He is doing something, but we, like the Israelite exiles, cannot see it. Here is Romans 11:33-35 again in a paraphrase: “God’s resources are endless. His wisdom never runs out. He knows everything there is to know. His judgments are inscrutable. His ways are impossible to understand. For who has known the mind of the Lord? Who has been his counselor?”

Don’t think God is not doing anything just because you can’t see or understand what he is doing. His ways are impossible to understand. Imagine taking a ride with Jesus in a 1965 Cadilac Coupe Deville from New York to Los Angeles. A road trip with Jesus? Wouldn’t that be great? Of course, you think you know the way the Lord will take: I-80 to the Colorado line, I-76 to Denver, I-70 into Utah where you will pick up I-15 almost to San Bernadino, where you’ll get on 210 and follow it to 605 and then take Route 10 into L.A.

That makes sense. It is the quickest route. But God knows about a billion things you don’t know. He knows there will be traffic jams in Hoboken, Stroudsburg, Youngstown, Chicago, Des Moines, and twelve other spots, so he avoids them. He bypasses the hailstorm in White Haven. He knows there is a wonderful state park just off I-76 near Uniontown, PA, which you are going to love. And there is an ice cream parlor in Wooster, OH that he particularly likes. They have a dark chocolate ice cream with chunks of fudge, which Jesus says is the best in the world.

He also knows that a 74-year-old man and his wife are traveling to see their son who, unbeknownst to them, will die later this year. They will blow a tire on the south side of Bloomington and the man will have a heart attack while he is trying to get the lug nuts off. So, Jesus takes an alternate route that leads through central Indiana so that you can change a tire. And then, there is a waitress in a diner in St. Joseph, Missouri, a single mom with bills that are piling up, and whose ex is suing for full custody of their only child. She feels like she is losing her mind and really needs someone to give her hope – as well as a big tip – and you are just the person to do that.

Then there is the cow that got through the fence outside Severance, Kansas. It will get hit by a teenage driver if someone doesn’t do something first. And there is a poet in a coffee shop in Oklahoma City who will overhear one line of your conversation that will set his creativity on fire and someday earn him the title of Poet Laureate of the United States.

If you were to see that route plotted on a map, it would make no sense at all. But that is because you don’t know what the Lord knows. All you know is that I-80 is the most direct route between where you are and where you want to go.

In your own life, you usually have known the most direct route between where you are and where you want to be. But why doesn’t God take that route? Your whole life seems to have been a series of detours. Sometimes, you forced your way along your perceived route, but that didn’t work out any better, and maybe it was worse.

God’s ways, Paul writes, are impossible to understand. You will never guess them beforehand. You have a better chance of guessing the winning Powerball Lottery numbers. But should you guess the Powerball, you will not be as happy as you would be if you trusted the Lord, his wisdom, and his love.

Do you really think you deserve to be God’s counselor? Lots of people have applied for the job; none have been qualified. I have often given the Lord recommendations and sometimes he has worked them into the plan – that’s pure grace! But I could not be God’s counselor any more than a preschooler could counsel Albert Einstein on the development of the Theory of General Relativity. I can’t see a trillion things at once, things present, past, and future. But God does.

It is pretty arrogant of us to think that we know better than God. That arrogance is also displayed in the attitude that God owes us something. Paul will have none of that. Quoting Job, he asks: “Who has ever given to God that God should repay him?” There is nothing that you or I have ever done that has put God in our debt. There is nothing we could ever do to put God in our debt. He doesn’t owe us; he owns us. He made us. He bought us at a price.

But even though that is true, he treats us as his children, not his debtors. A child owes his parents everything. They have given him life, shelter, food, and love. They have worked untold hours for his benefit. They have sacrificed things they wanted. Yet, if they are good parents they don’t think: “Kid, you owe me big time—and I mean to collect.” They don’t treat him as their debtor but as their child, their beloved. That is how God treats us.

Look now at verse 36: “For from him…” He is the originator, the one who thought all this up, the one who made it – and us – possible.

“For from him and through him…” He is not only the idea person. He is the artist, the mechanic, the one who does the work. So, John could write, “Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made” (John 1:3) Paul writes, “For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities…” (Colossians 1:16).

“For from him and through him and for him are all things.” You and I were not only made by God; we were made for him. This does not at all diminish our value as human beings; it increases it exponentially. We will never be happy until we acknowledge this is true and are glad for it. You were made for God, not like a tailored suit for a businessman, nor even like a work of art for a collector, but like a beloved child for his parents or a bride for her groom. You belong. You are wanted. You are God’s.

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All the Adventure You Will Ever Need

I think I had the same preacher when I was younger. It seems like a crime to bore people with the most remarkable story ever told, so I have worked hard to keep sermons interesting. Nevertheless, when talking about selling our old pews, one of our church elders quipped: “We could advertise this way: ‘You’ve slept in them at church; why not take one home to sleep in? You won’t have all the annoying interruptions!” Then someone added, “We could sweeten the deal by giving away a CD of one of Shayne’s sermons.” Guaranteed to give you a good night’s sleep.

I might be biased, but I don’t think most people are bored because they sit through uninteresting church services. It is, I suspect, just the opposite: church services would be more stimulating if the people in the pews and the pulpit weren’t already bored. Boredom makes people easy prey to distractions and temptations. So much of what is happening on the church scene today is an attempt to capture the attention of bored people.

Before the eighteenth century, English did not even have a word for “boring,” yet boredom is the malady of our time. We could learn from Jesus, whose life was anything but boring. The same was true for his closest friends and those who have known him best down the centuries.

Jesus lived an adventurous, sometimes intense, and always meaningful life. Those who dare to follow him have similarly exciting lives. If someone is looking for adventure, I can think of no better advice than this: Start living life the way God designed humans to live, the way Jesus lived, and you will experience all the adventure you will ever need.

But do we really want adventure? As Oliver Goldsmith put it, adventures by the fireside with a good book are one thing, as are adventures in front of the television. Real adventures are another. The playwright Thornton Wilder was right: When you’re safe at home, you wish you were out having an adventure, but “When you’re having an adventure, you wish you were safe at home.”

Years ago, I was on a remote Canadian lake with friends from church. Another guy and I struck out for a different lake, five miles into the bush. We got lost a couple of times and fought mosquitos that were so thick we needed to cover our mouths to avoid breathing them in. We got caught in a thunderstorm, saw fresh bear tracks, and wrestled with a boat motor that wanted to stall every few minutes.

If I had known how uncomfortable that adventure would be, I would have avoided it. Now, I remember it with something like pleasure. That is the way it is with adventures.

The adventure of living the Jesus way is like that. When we need to forgive someone who has intentionally hurt us, the adventure is not fun. But having forgiven, being freed from the anguish of resentment is something like a pleasure.

Likewise, praying can seem trying and tiresome. We can lose heart when we don’t see any answer to our desperate requests. But after intense times of prayer, perhaps over weeks and months, seeing an answer is exhilarating.

There are so many adventures in the life of one of Jesus’s students. To bless those who curse you is an adventure. So is praying for those who misuse you. Sharing the good news of Christ with people who don’t yet believe it is risky. Giving generously to a person in need feels dangerous.

Simply living in obedience to Jesus’s instructions guarantees adventure. If a church were filled with such adventurers, its worship services would never be boring. They would sparkle with excitement not because of careful programming or skilled performances but because congregants brought their adventurous spirit with them when they came to worship.

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