Fruits of the Spirit 3: Kindness and Gentleness

FOTS 3: Kindness & Gentleness—Proverbs 31: 10-31; John 8: 1-11

            On this Mothers’ Day, we hear those words from Proverbs 31, “She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future.” It’s a very powerful and aspirational phrase for women and mothers. A friend of mine who has two rather energetic kids, a busy social life, work, and a husband who travels with his job, recently posted a framed sign about this Proverbs 31 statement in her house. It said, “She is clothed in leggings and oversized t-shirts, and she eats ice cream without fear of the future. Probably Me 24:7.” 

            Today we look at two more fruits of the spirit: kindness and gentleness.  From the outset, it may seem as though they are the same thing, perhaps even synonymous with one another. But that’s not exactly the case. In many ways, kindness is a different virtue from gentleness. Kindness is more of a gracious act to others, whereas gentleness is finding a sense of grace and redemption in an unpleasant truth. For this Mother’s Day, let’s turn both of them into real characters and look at how scripture describes and gives personality to each fruit of the spirit. 

            Kindness is beautiful in her service and care. She gives generously of her heart and resources to nurture, to love, and to support others in need. Proverbs 31 talks about all the ways Kindness shows her care. In verse 15, she sacrifices her sleep and time to serve food to those in the house, so that from her time and labor, they are not hungry. In verse 20, Kindness is seen helping the poor and opening her arms to the needy in welcome. Kindness does not turn others away, but instead she prepares a large table and invites them to find food and rest. 

            Kindness is also quite literally nice. Proverbs 31:26 says that the words she speaks are wise and her instructions are given nicely (or with kindness). Most importantly, Kindness has a strongly developed faith in God. Proverbs goes on to say that she should be rewarded for all that she has done. Mothers’ Day is often a hard Sunday for many. We place a lot of expectations on women yet deny them many things as well. Far too long we’ve judged women by the standard of motherhood, homemaking, or their ability to play second fiddle to a husband. The truth is that any woman, any man, all people created by God are defined and measured solely and completely by their relationship to God, and not any other burdens society creates. 

            Proverbs 31 provides a much more expansive role for women: wife, clothing maker, cook, organizational planner, energetic worker, property developer, vineyard manager (and by default I’m guessing winemaker), businesswoman, volunteer, quilter, jewelry maker, and above all, child of God. All of these come from the list of things women can do in Proverbs 31. The common thread through all, however, is that anything she does is done with kindness. 

            Likewise, we read about another strong woman in the Gospel named Gentleness. When we meet her, Gentleness is in some trouble. She is accused of the sin of adultery, for which the law said she should be stoned. It was the black and white words on paper, the letter of the law, her sin demanded that she be stoned to death immediately. She was caught in the act, so there’s no question of her guilt. (Please notice that they did not bring a man out to stone alongside her, but I digress.)

            But Jesus deals with her differently. He understands Gentleness and cares for her despite her fault. Gentleness is defined by words of truth without any harshness or judgement attached. Jesus asks at the end of the story where her accusers are. She responds that no one is left to accuse her. Jesus responds with, “Neither do I. Go and sin no more.” The truth of what she did wrong was spoken, not ignored, and not swept away as insignificant. But even when that truth was spoken, it was followed by redemptive solutions instead of condemnation. 

            Gentleness often gets punished because our society loves condemnation but is slow to care about redemption. She sinned, for goodness’ sake! She was caught in the act of adultery, guilty, guilty! But Jesus does not condemn her and sends her on with the instruction to go and sin no more. I remember once when I was in school, I got in trouble because a teacher overheard me calling her hateful or mean or snarky or something else like that. I was sent into the hallway as punishment. I was sure the teacher would call my mother and big, big trouble was on the way. Day after day I waited for that call to my mom. Finally, overcome with guilt one night, I confessed everything right at bedtime with this great whoosh of emotion and anguish coming out. I’m pretty sure I confessed to things I hadn’t even done yet. My mom very kindly and gently hugged me and said about my name calling episode, “Well, son, it might be true, but it wasn’t very nice. Go and sin no more.” 

            Both kindness and gentleness are found when we abide in God and let God abide in us. In Proverbs 31 we read of the talent, the strength, and wisdom of women, but the final two verses close out with the importance of that relationship, living or abiding in God. In the Gospel, we see a woman who finds redemption and a new hope for life simply because she was brought to Jesus and stayed close to him. Condemnation, punishment, and guilt were expected, yet in Jesus, she found mercy, redemption, and grace.  

            On this Mothers’ Day, we celebrate and honor the nurturing, loving presence which comes from those who practice kindness and gentleness in life. Kindness works for others, deals in niceness with those whom she encounters, and has a strong, developed faith. In turn her work should be rewarded first and foremost with our trust.

Likewise, Gentleness seeks to live in truth without harshness, judgment, or condemnation. She seeks the redemption and mercy which is found in knowing and drawing close to Jesus, who delivers from all accusers. We give thanks for all the mothers, those who have provided a mothering presence, and those women who have loved and cared for us in some way. May their wisdom, strength, and grace remind us of the power and the rest which comes when we abide in God and God abides in us. 

            Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/506187784568057

Fruits of the Spirit 2: Peace

FOTS 2: Peace—Ecclesiastes 1: 1-11; Philippians 4: 1-3, 6-7

            I was watching a video someone sent me the other day. There was a lady with a strong accent talking about the power of words. She said basically that if you are insulted in another language, you don’t know it. Even if they start screaming at you in another language, you may only laugh at the silliness of someone hollering words you don’t understand and which mean nothing to you. That is because we give words their power in our perceptions, our understandings, and our processing. The lady wrapped it up by saying, whatever words of insult, anger, and cruelty are hurled at you, don’t give them power in your life, and you will have peace. 

            As we continue our series on the fruits of the spirit from Galatians 3:23, we come today to this fruit of peace—so desired, yet just simply out of reach so many times. How do we live at peace in our own minds and bodies as well as peace with others? The scriptures for today tell us some of the ways we can have peace within ourselves and peace outside of ourselves. 

            We must work to find peace within ourselves. The Epistle lesson from Philippians contains one of the greatest statements on peace found anywhere in the Bible. We are first told to not worry about anything and instead pray about everything. There are so many things which can rob us of our peace each day: fear, worry and doubt, anger and stress, all of these things chip away at the peace we have within ourselves. We try to find our peace in life and circumstances around us—if it’s an easy day, if things go the right way, if stress would leave me alone, if people weren’t so people-y, it might be a better day, and I’ll finally have peace. 

            Sadly, it doesn’t work that way. Philippians tells us to give thanks, ask for what we need, and trust that we will then have God’s peace which exceeds everything we can understand. That peace is found guarding our hearts and minds. It doesn’t guard life, circumstances, or the troubles around us—it guards our hearts and minds. Marvin Gaye and Pinterest said, “If you cannot find peace within yourself, you will never find it anywhere else.” God’s peace is found within us, and it is our choice each day whether we will live in this peace which guards our hearts and minds from living in Christ Jesus. It is a tough process, but it offers guaranteed results every time. 

            Paul pushes in Philippians for people to find peace within and live at peace with others. He writes specifically to two people in the church to settle their dispute. In essence, he’s writing the polite version of “everybody sit down and hush up.” He appeals to Euodia and Syntyche to settle their disagreement. He also asks others in the church to work toward this resolution with them. Paul wants them to live in peace and at peace. 

            Good people can find themselves in the midst of a dispute. Disagreement is not a mark of someone who is bad. Both of these women were prominent preachers of the Gospel in Philippi. Paul lists their accomplishments: true partners to him, hard workers, and workers with him in telling the Good News. They have even apparently lived at peace in the past. But now they found themselves embroiled in a dispute, and if Paul is addressing this, it is safe to assume that their disagreement was affecting the life and health of the church they helped to lead. 

Grudges, disagreements, and unresolved anger enter your life and soul like a burglar breaks into a house, and they steal all of your peace in life. To the person you hold that anger and grudge against, it means nothing. It’s like hearing insults in a foreign language. The only peace stolen by a grudges and anger is your own. That’s why Paul is warning Euodia and Syntyche. They have hearts for the gospel, but hearts also filled with disagreements and disputes will soon become cold and bitter, a place where no peace can be found. 

            Instead of a grudge, what we seek is justice. In many of the protests from the 1960s to the present, those marching would say, “No justice, no peace,” and there is a strong kernel of truth in this. The Teacher in Ecclesiastes cries that everything is meaningless, and history repeats itself. He is, as we would say in older generations, what is known as blasé. In more modern philosophy, we might call him existential. Both find a root in the Teacher having no love or enjoyment in life because of his disinterest and unease about all things. His phrase  that history repeats itself has echoed down the centuries and in many instances proven itself true. 

            The word “justice” is used 328 times in the Bible. By comparison, the word “grace” is used 138 times. Our God is a God of justice, and through justice being done, we can find peace. We must find peace within, but we must also work to make a world where there is peace around us as well. Where we see things which are unjust, cruel, and harmful to others or God’s work, we must speak words of peace and advocate for what is right and just. Peace will never be found in the world in which we live if there are still people who feel like they have been treated unjustly, unfairly, and un-Christian-ly. 

            Paul understood this clearly in his writing to Philippi. He told them that God’s peace would guard their hearts and minds as they live in Christ Jesus. He didn’t stop at just the guarding of minds—it came with the push that this peace goes with them as they live in Christ. If we work for true justice and peace in this world, then we will be able to undo the predictions of the Teacher who said everything is meaningless and history (specifically a history of contentiousness and injustice) repeats itself. 

            Peace, then, is found in two places—within us as we work on our faith, and around us as we work for God’s justice in the world. We don’t know the outcome of the quarrel between Euodia and Syntyche. Paul never follows up. But I can guarantee that an unresolved grudge and dispute ruined their faith and destroyed the ministry of that church at Philippi. We must work in ourselves to not let words and acts of unkindness rob us of our own peace. And as we live in peace within, we must work peace in our world. We hear the words in “Just As I Am,” which say, “Fighting and fears within, without, O Lamb of God, I come. I come.” May we come to Christ and know his peace today. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/542183720591029

Fruits of the Spirit 1: Love & Joy

FOTS 1—Love & Joy: Psalm 145: 14-21; John 21: 14-19

            We begin a new series this week to take us through the Easter season. We will explore each of the fruits of the spirit and how they impact our lives. Where do these “fruits of the spirit” come from? We read about them in Galatians 5: 22-23, “But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these things!” They are listed in the middle of Paul’s writings on living under law versus living under God’s Holy Spirit. I’ll never forget being in Sunday School and one of the other students listened intently to all fruits named, then got really indignant because he expected apples, grapes, and oranges. But that was not what he got. It probably did feel like a bait and switch when you expect an apple or grapes and instead get a lesson on patience and self-control.

            Our first two fruits of the spirit are love and joy. The scripture for today is quite perfect for these two fruits of the spirit because it talks about food. And nothing can bring joy and love to one’s life like good food. We learn earlier in John 21 that Jesus had cooked breakfast for the disciples while they were fishing. Roasted fish and bread are not exactly what I would want for breakfast, but I’m pretty sure if Jesus was cooking for me, I would eat whatever he put on my plate…and like it. After Jesus had given them a miraculous abundance of fish, and fed them breakfast, he has a curious exchange with Peter. 

            Three times he asks Peter if Peter loves him. With each yes from the disciple, Jesus responds with: “Feed my lambs, take care of my sheep, [and] feed my sheep.” Jesus has a powerful way here of infusing love and joy into the plain and ordinary. For Jesus, love was shown on a cross with suffering and death. But the work of love doesn’t necessarily have to nail us to the cross. Love is found in the ordinary things of life: sharing food, cooking for someone, fishing and daily work, and the simple words of telling someone that you love them. 

            Jesus showed the disciples that he went to the cross for the ultimate act of love, so that they could live the miraculous in their ordinary lives. Think of how moving and powerful it is when someone asks how you are, how your family is doing, brings you food, or just hangs out and goes fishing or spends some time with you. Love is found in these simple gifts and acts. 

            I have a friend who shows love with a simple recipe for cheese biscuits. I know when I visit home I can count on my mother’s meatloaf. And I know when I visit one long-time friend, she will show love by NOT cooking anything. Sometimes we get so caught up in life, in busy-ness, in our troubles and struggles that we forget to take time to stop and consider the small and ordinary ways that others show us God’s love for us—in blessings and care. 

            But Jesus’s act also brought joy to Peter. This was shortly after Peter had denied Jesus three different times which was a cowardly betrayal after having professed to believe in Jesus as the Son of God. No wonder Jesus so often said, “Ye of little faith” to them. But here we see a reversal from bitter tears to grace and restoration. Three times he proclaims his love of Christ. Three times he undoes those words of denial and betrayal. And three times he is called to God’s work. 

            Earlier in chapter 21, when the disciples see Jesus, Peter jumps out of the boat and thrashes through the water to get to Jesus. It’s a chance…an opportunity he can’t miss to restore the love and relationship he felt was broken. It was also an opportunity to find joy in Jesus’s forgiveness and restoring grace. Psalm 145: 14 says, “The Lord helps the fallen, and lifts those bent beneath their loads.” Peter was bent beneath the load of his guilt over his denails. We can see this in the fact that he was unable to even wait for the boat to near the shore. He jumped in the water to get back to Jesus. 

            The Psalm goes on to say, “You give them their food as they need it, [and] You satisfy the hunger and thirst of every living thing.” This love and care from God are as ordinary as simply giving someone a meal, but it’s also so extraordinary as we read that Christ is the bread of life and the living water. Food is very powerful way of showing love. Jesus fed the disciples on the beach. Jesus is the bread of life. Jesus is the living water which will quench all thirst. 

            We even see it in the Communion table. Of all the ways Jesus could have symbolized his greatest act of love for us, he chose food: broken bread and cup of salvation. Food brings life, and it is in this love of Christ that we find life. Bread and cup are so ordinary, so simple and plain, but when see the love found in these symbols, they become something miraculous and extraordinary. 

            That day on the beach, Jesus showed love in the most ordinary of ways—conversation, cooking breakfast, helping them fish with a bit of a miracle, and simply being with those who followed him, and those with whom he had developed a relationship. These ordinary things showed extraordinary love. A simple conversation with Peter wiped away his guilt and replaced it with joy and a purpose—to feed the sheep. Peter was called to lead and pastor the church, to share the Good News and encourage the growth of faith and love in others. 

Jesus finished his time with Peter with one simple request. Follow me. He didn’t call on them to follow at the foot of the cross. He didn’t call on them to follow when leaving the tomb. It was in the ordinary—the service, the acts of love—that Jesus called on Peter to follow him. The pathway to love and joy is clear. It’s food. I bet you thought I’d say it’s Jesus, didn’t’ you? The answer is food, but it’s not really in the cooked fish. Instead, in bread and cup, we see love and joy, a table which welcomes all to remember God’s grace for all time. But Jesus didn’t give Peter a free breakfast, for it came with a call. In the love, the grace, and the joyful restoration of a broken relationship, Jesus said to Peter, “Follow me.” May God give us strength to do the same. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/520348966427326

Easter Sunday 2022

“Why?” Easter 2022: Isaiah 65: 17-25; John 20: 1-18

            So, in confession, there was more to the title of this sermon than just “why?” However, as I was typing for the bulletins, I got distracted and forgot to add the rest of the title. Then I forgot what the rest of the title was actually supposed to be. And now, here we are. Why? To some degree, it’s a bit of a fair question these days. Why this journey, why this experience, why am I sitting here? Most of the unanswered questions in our lives involve…why? Most of the time we ask these questions about where the future will lead, and what the journey will be like. Sometimes we ask why we so often feel like we journey alone in this life. I’m sure many of us feel have those moments when we feel misunderstood, unseen, and alone. 

            The band Green Day, which half of you can’t believe I’m referencing and the other half of you probably don’t know and definitely wouldn’t like, has a song titled “Boulevard of Broken Dreams.” A line from it says, “I walk a lonely road, the only one that I’ve ever known. Don’t know where it goes, but it’s home to me, and I walk alone.” Laying aside that it’s angsty millennial rock music, those words, I think speak to us, this feeling that we are often alone on life’s journey. 

            Many of us feel alone in life even if we have friends or a network of people. We call it feeling unseen in the midst of a crowd. We may have hit the age where there are too many funerals. We may have found many folks we thought were our friends were users and not companions. We may have life changes and developments which seem a very personal to our journey and others simply don’t get it. Or we may actually be very much alone in life. 

            It’s a familiar and often stress-filled and painful place for many. I remember counseling someone who had lost their spouse. They told me that they would wander the aisles of the Wal-Mart and Target to avoid going home to an empty house, all alone. We heard that hymn on Good Friday, “Jesus walked this lonesome valley. He had to walk it by himself; O nobody else could walk it for him. He had to walk it by himself.” A friend of mine recently posted an article on Facebook which said that the church’s response to the pandemic and social upheaval of the past few years make her feel like she’s lost her faith, the church, and religion she called home. We are no strangers to loneliness and walking a lonely road in life. 

            Good Friday was a time where fear, sadness, and loneliness came and dwelt with Jesus and the disciples. Jesus walked to Calvary by himself, abandoned and betrayed. The disciples locked themselves into a room in fear and feeling alone without Jesus to lead them. Why? They didn’t really understand that the suffering, the anguish they felt in their soles was temporary, but the hope Christ gives us is never-ending. Jesus had the power over death. Jesus had the power to appear in the upper room with the disciples. And Jesus gave them the Spirit to ensure they would never, ever be alone in this life. 

            The journey for Jesus was lonely, but we are promised that we are never alone when we have faith in God. When the followers fell asleep as Jesus prayed earnestly in the garden, he still prayed with them. When Jesus was betrayed, he was calm and gentle with all of them, loving and forgiving. When they abandoned Jesus, denied him, cowered in fear lacking all faith to believe his Word and his promises, he still loved them and gave everything he had to bring them closer to him and love them more and more. As the hymn says, “And he walks with me, and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own.” The days may seem dark, and we may feel alone, but through it all and in it all God still walks with us and never leaves us. As a pastor friend said, “If God cared enough to create us, then God loves us enough to see us through.” 

            Isaiah’s prophetic words speak to this promise, saying in verse 19, “I will rejoice over Jerusalem and delight in my people. And the sound of weeping and crying will be heard in it no more. You see, God has promised, in the miracle of resurrection that hope outweighs the suffering of this life. It’s hard to see when you’re going through the suffering, but that doesn’t take away from how grand and glorious that hope from God truly is. That hope is two-fold. It is the hope that reminds us that death is swallowed up in the victory of life in the God who loves us. But it is also the hope that in every moment of life, and in every moment of toil and struggle we face, God is with us every single moment—loving us, strengthening us, and reminding us of that unbelievable presence that walks with us. 

            When you look at the Gospel, you can feel just how alone and frightened the disciples were. Mary cries out to Jesus, whom she mistakes for the gardener, asking where they have taken him. Peter and the disciple Jesus loved run to the tomb when they hear the news. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, there’s an angel to announce the resurrection of Jesus. Here that doesn’t happen. Mary, this disciple, and Peter are left with only that stark emptiness of the tomb—this startling reality that Jesus is not only dead, he is gone. 

            But something powerful happens, something that can only come from faith. When the disciple Jesus loved arrives at the tomb, he’s hesitant to go in and encounter those empty burial linens and folded head wrapping. But then, the Gospel tells us that this disciple “went in, and he saw and believed.” The words about hope, life, and resurrection—they all made sense. This wasn’t the death, burial, and end of everything Jesus had said and taught. 

            Instead, this was a new beginning. Jesus was back to end our walk on a lonely road with a promise to be with us. And indeed, in just a short verse or two later, Jesus appears to the disciples and assures them that hope is the final word over pain, over suffering, over fear and loneliness in this life. Hope, life, and God’s love have the final word, end of story. 

            We may face days and pathways that feel lonely. With the loss of loved ones, with journeys and places in life we must face on our own, with the uncertainty we must sometimes live with, we may be facing lonely roads ahead. But though the way may seem weary and lonely, it’s not. As we begin or continue our faithful journey and those times of fear and doubt creep in, we will find Jesus, our constant companion, Savior, and friend. Then, like Mary, we can proclaim boldly, “I have seen the Lord.” 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/354734936610570

Palm Sunday 2022

Facing Reality: Isaiah 50: 4-9a; Luke 19: 18-40

            As the hymn says, “Ride on, ride on in majesty, in lowly pomp, ride on to die.” This road from triumphant entry to the suffering of the cross is one we’ve journeyed together for many years. However, now, more than ever this journey speaks to us as both a warning and a symbol of hope for a world that can yet still find itself in the power of and seeking the will of a loving Savior. 

How does this happen. Let me start with a story. I was meeting with a fellow pastor the other day for some advice. After listening to my weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth, he said to me, “Will, you just need to stop overthinking it.” Okay. I smiled and pretended to be thankful. What I wanted to say is, “Ya know, if I could turn the overthinking off like water from a faucet, I wouldn’t exactly be here seeking advice, dude.” But I held my tongue, and he then offered this great bit of wisdom. He said, “Lord, deliver us from ourselves.” That one thought took deep root in my soul. Lord, deliver us from ourselves. 

In our Gospel, we see the old and familiar story of Jesus riding from the towns of Bethany and Bethphage, the home of Lazarus and a place where Jesus was loved, to Jerusalem where prophetic voices like Jesus were silenced and often with death. Jerusalem was a powder keg of power struggles, ethnic conflict between Roman, Jewish, and others who lived there, a place of oppression with a deep undercurrent of political strife, injustice, and barely controlled anger. And I know none of that seems at all relevant in this day and time. Jerusalem was only 30 years away from a full-blown conflict with Rome. 

            Into this volatile situation, Jesus rode in on the back of a donkey, hailed as the King of Kings. The people there wanted a savior, a deliverer, and a mighty king. This is what they hoped for in Jesus, but their understanding was misplaced. They wanted an earthly king, who would lead a revolt, overthrow Rome, and reestablish David’s throne and the purity of Solomon’s temple. They wanted a new King David who would smash the Roman Goliath in a miraculous way. Instead, they got this poor, humble guy on the back of a donkey, who preached about love, laying down one’s life, and a heavenly kingdom. 

Jesus came to Jerusalem not to bring down Pilate, or topple Caesar’s power, or restore the temple religion and recreate a Judean kingdom. Even Jesus’s preaching was not so fiery and tough as what you could possibly hear in the temple and Sanhedrin. Blessed are the peacemakers, love your enemy, love your neighbor, be born again of God and not of worldly things—all of this was a far cry from expectation. But it all has a common theme: O Lord, deliver us from ourselves. 

These past couple of years we’ve lost our time, our freedom, our sense of security, too many friends and family to even name, and it could be that hope seems a bit dim while grief weighs heavy. We too want Jesus to ride into our lives and suddenly make all things better, which is certainly possible, but it cannot be done when our faith is clouded by anger, grief, confusion, and the love of doubt. 

When Jesus rode into Jerusalem, the people shouted, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord.” But Jesus didn’t come to save Jerusalem from Rome. He came to save humanity, to deliver us from ourselves and from those doubts, the negativity, and those struggles which keep us in a worldly mindset instead of focusing on the hope and redemption that is Christ’s work.

I had someone ask me recently why we have to suffer so much in this world. They were struggling with the loss of a loved one and their own physical illness as well. I could sense the struggle and pain they were feeling. The truth is that there is no good answer. The best I can offer is that the faith I have meets with the faith you have, and together, God’s presence in both of us will see us through. As Isaiah 50 says, “The Sovereign Lord has given me his words of wisdom, so that I know how to comfort the weary. Morning by morning he wakens me and opens my understanding to his will. Because the Sovereign Lord helps me, I will not be disgraced…and I know that I will not be put to shame.” 

It begins when we pray, Lord, deliver us from ourselves. In the triumphant entry, Jesus comes into the city with great fanfare and celebration. The people of Bethany and Bethphage travelled with Jesus and the disciples into the heart of Jerusalem. The people of Jerusalem were overcome and ecstatic. Here was their king and deliverer. But just a few days later, they named him a fraud and called for him to be crucified with murderous rage before Pilate. 

Jesus did not come to fix the earthly existence of Jerusalem. He came to restore a broken relationship and give them the hope of eternal life with him. He came to bring faith, not a kingdom; justice, not civil war with Rome; a relationship and not a temple faith. His kingdom was not of this world and Jesus did not come to fix the political mess of Jerusalem. He came to bring life and hope and the Holy Spirit which would equip the people to fix Jerusalem, if they followed him. He came to deliver them from themselves and unto a relationship with a God who loved them and created them. 

As the hymn says, “Lord, you have come to the lakeshore, looking neither for wealthy nor wise ones. You only asked me to follow humbly.” Jesus is still calling to this day to follow humbly. It may not fix all your problems here on earth. Jesus didn’t come to make things perfect. He came to deliver us from our worldly lives and return us to God. It is a tough journey from the palms to the cross. In a world that seems to be growing in cruelty, anger, and strife, that journey to the cross seems harder and harder every year—facing that pain and that suffering. But one thing never changes. One the other side of that cross is hope and eternal life. And so, each day, I pray, “Lord, deliver us from ourselves.” Amen. 

Service Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/687550229059830

Facing Life's Worst Battles: Lent 5

Facing Hypocrisy—Isaiah 43: 16-21; John 12: 1-8

            I was talking with a new, young pastor a year or so ago. Apparently, I’ve been doing this long enough to reach the “old enough to go to for wisdom” stage. He asked me my best advice on pastoring. I VERY jokingly said, “Don’t preach against sins you frequently like to commit.” I thought it was a joke, but there was silence. I glanced at him, and with a perplexed look he said, “Then what am I supposed to preach about?” I guess there’s something to be said about honesty. Today, in our Lenten series, we look at how to face hypocrisy. 

            It’s a word that’s really overused these days. Anytime someone tells a white lie, we yell, “Hypocrite!” It is so bad that if you even forget what you said or forget to do something, you’re in danger of being labelled a hypocrite. But in its truest sense, hypocrisy is the practice of claiming to have, or imposing on others, moral standards or beliefs which you do not actually follow. Perhaps a clearer definition is a person who preaches loudly and angry about sins and behaviors they secretly love to do. Here's an example: a person who preaches with gusto against the evils of gluttony, then goes and utterly wipes out the Sunday brunch buffet. I joke. Somewhat. 

            Many have alleged that Judas’s great sin was betrayal, greed, or something else, but the truth is, hypocrisy was his undoing. At the dinner setting of today’s Gospel, we see Martha serving Jesus and the disciples while Mary anoints Jesus with an expensive perfume, and if ever you are asked in trivia, the perfume is called spikenard. Judas then takes Mary to task on the pouring out of the perfume telling her the money it brought in could be used for the poor. 

            Judas, though, is a hypocrite. He cares nothing for the poor. He cares nothing for Jesus, for Mary, or for any of these people. The man literally saw Jesus call Lazarus back from the dead shortly before this, and it has not softened the frosty callousness of his heart, not even one tiny bit. A thief and a cheat, he still talked the right disciple talk for following Jesus, even though his life and his actions spoke otherwise. 

            Hall of Fame football coach, Wes Fesler, said, “Hypocrisy is the audacity to preach integrity from a den of corruption.” This was Judas. He had heard all the right words of Jesus and learned all the right things. He knew exactly what he needed to say in the right situation. But his life never reflected the holiness and faith found in the empty words he spoke. Likely Judas wanted the perfume sold and the money added to the change purse for the disciples, so that he could steal it. It was this conniving, cunning, and hypocritic spirit which would be his undoing. 

            Hypocrites are often found near to the brokenhearted and the vulnerable because hypocrisy loves to take advantage of brokenness and vulnerability. Look where you find hypocrisy the most: religion and/or politics—both places where one tends to find brokenness and vulnerability. 

            In 2006 an Evangelical megachurch pastor, who had viciously preached against LGBT community and against drugs, was outed by the man whom he was paying for sex and drugs, specifically meth. The man who exposed him said he had to stop the hypocrisy. I need not give you the dozens, if not hundreds, of examples of hypocrisy that exist in the world of politics. It reminds me of the old saying, “If you talk the talk, then walk the walk.” We will all do wrong and behave badly from time to time, but we can be honest, open, and repentant and not live our lives like a confederacy of Judases. 

            We also see Jesus’s pointed response. He tells Judas to leave Mary alone. She was vulnerable in this moment. She had just experienced the death of her brother Lazarus only to be astounded by the miracle of Jesus raising him from the dead. I am sure both she and Martha were still delirious from all the events. Then here comes Judas trying to manipulate and take advantage of the situation by getting money out of Mary instead of seeing her faithful and holy intent. Jesus says, “You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.” Don’t try too hard to figure this out. He’s talking to Judas. Soon Judas would betray Jesus, and he would no longer have Jesus with him, at all. 

            Hypocrisy demands that we give up pieces of faith and our relationship with Jesus until it is gone. It chips away at the foundation of faith we have built. Hypocrisy is one of the most difficult sins to overcome because any note of repentance rings hollow. No matter what one does, those watching will lack the trust to believe that a true change has happened. It is exactly this exploitation of vulnerability and trust which makes hypocrisy so dangerous. 

            What can we do? Isaiah 43 is a wise response. God has to completely make something new and different. Verse 19 says, “I am about to do something new,” pathways through the wilderness, rivers in the dry wasteland, something to refresh the people completely and fully. Unlike other struggles, which can be overcome, hypocrisy lacks in trust, in truth, and in hope. Too often the hypocrite will minimize or justify bad behavior over and over even after saying he or she is spiritually healed. Hypocrisy and betrayal brought Judas to his death, which was lonely, painful, and filled with suffering. 

            But we must also remember that hypocrisy killed Jesus. Not Jesus’s of course, but the hypocrisy of the people who praised him then called for his crucifixion shortly thereafter. Unlike Judas, whose hypocrisy led to a miserable death, the hypocrisy which killed Jesus on a cross was followed with resurrection and new life. God has done something new, as Isaiah says, in this resurrection. 

Hypocrisy is alive and well these days in our churches, in families, and in always in our politics. It’s a road that leads to pain, suffering, and death, for hypocrisy of some kind killed both Judas and Jesus. The question the is this: will we let our own hypocrisy or the hypocrites in our lives be the death of us, or will we find hope and resurrection despite the struggles? The answer is found in Christ and the hope of new life: as the hymn says, “My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art thou. If ever I loved thee, my Jesus, ‘tis now.” 

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Facing Life's Toughest Battles: Lent 4

Facing Rejection: Psalm 32: 1-5; Luke 15: 1-3, 11-32

            One of the hardest things we deal with in life is rejection. We see the little boy on the playground holding a daisy he just plucked up from the wildflowers nearby and holding it out to the little girl. But she replies with, “Eww, cooties!” and runs away. We see the woman in middle age who has learned her husband and partner of many years has been unfaithful and broken the marriage trust, and now their years of investment together are no more. She feels rejected and tossed aside. We see an elder, filled with wisdom, love, and a desire to connect with others, sitting alone in a care facility wondering if all her family and friends have rejected her and left her to a lonely demise. 

            Rejection is hard, painful, and filled with years of trying to reconcile the bitterness. This parable of Jesus speaks to rejection. It’s one of Jesus’s most versatile parables—usable in so many situations and places of life for understanding and guidance. But one theme that resonates throughout is a family facing rejection, and how they processed through it. A son rejects a father. A father overcomes rejection. A brother feels rejected by the father, and all must learn where to go from here. What does Jesus, in this parable, teach us about facing rejection? 

            Jesus begins the parable with a rather whiny and spoiled child, perhaps a young man, but still a child, asking his father for his inheritance, so he could leave the family. This was a tremendous insult in ancient times. One did not humiliate and insult a father like this. The son is not only rejecting his father, but he is also rejecting his entire family and all that he has been taught and raised with. In many ways this could be seen as both a rejection and a betrayal. 

            Knowing his son would have to learn the hard way, the father divides his estate and gives the son his allotted share. Rejection and betrayal, however, often lead to loneliness and alienation. The son squandered all he had and ended up broke, starving, and alone. He was forced to work with pigs which made him unclean and untouchable according to the customs and faith. And yet, while we so often focus on the suffering of the prodigal child, let’s not forget that the father’s heart broke every single day over and over while his son was gone…worrying, praying, hoping one day the rejection and separation would be over. 

            For his part, the father is amazing in this parable. His exploitive, dirty, cruel, and wasteful son comes crawling back begging only to be a hired servant, knowing he is unworthy of any more based on his hostile and hateful treatment of his father. Expecting the worst and having learned his lesson, the son goes home. But his father welcomes him with open arms—with love, forgiveness, and the biggest, happiest party he can put together. His father’s exact words were, “He once was lost but now is found.” The son is no longer full of his anger and rejection, and the father’s broken heart is mended. 

            But there’s still a bit of rejection to deal with in this family. The older brother, who has faithfully served and worked with the father, feels rejected, unappreciated, stuck in a thankless place while his messy brother gets a party simply for showing up after a long walk on the wicked side. He’s mad. He addresses his father hatefully, refusing to say the customary greeting of “Father,” and filled with anger and pain at feeling rejected by the father. The father tries to calm him down with a gentle address. “Son…” he begins softly. He then reminds his older son that everything is his. His years of service and dedication will pay off not in a short party, but in receiving literally everything. The parable ends, and we aren’t told the older son’s reaction. 

            What do we do when we feel rejected, unwanted, and even alone in this world? We go back home. For some of us, home is a place. For others, home is the presence or memory of a person we love. For some of us, home is where we feel ourselves in the presence of God, for we are always at home with God. We also must live in grace and not in anger. Consider the reaction of the father. He could have angrily cast the son back out. He could have accepted the offer and made his son a servant. But this was his son, and he loved his son. When we love someone, we find a way to both hold them accountable and give them grace. For the son, accountability was letting him go and fail. He learned his lesson, and he learned it with hard consequences. When his father dies, he receives nothing, and he will either have to find work elsewhere or pray that his brother is more forgiving. 

            That welcome home, that grace which reconciles and reconnects has to be based on accountability and repentance. Letting an unchanged betrayer or rejecter back into your life is not grace…it’s foolishness. They don’t learn and grow, and you aren’t safe. If the son had come back still filled with pride and demands, the father would have been right to say no to him. Jesus often said, “Go and sin no more.” He said, “You must be born again.” He called upon repentance and a new way before people could be reconciled. It’s a fair and right request. A person who has wronged us must change before we let them back into our lives. 

            If you are the prodigal son, remember that there is love and forgiveness with the father. God’s grace is welcoming, restorative, and healing to a deeply wounded soul. If you are the older brother, remember that a welcome home for the lost one doesn’t undo all the good and all the strength you have lived with. All that the father has is yours, and God will be generous and merciful unto you. But be like the father in life. When his problematic son came home, humbled, grown up, wiser, and completely broken by the world he chose to live in, his father welcomed him with love and open arms. 

            Facing rejection in life is hard. It brings us to a place of deep and bitter sadness. It leaves families, lives, and relationships broken in a way that may never be the same. But we believe in a God of lavish welcome, a God who heals brokenness, and a God who can give rest for weary souls. When rejection becomes the narrative of life, God is still the author of grace which redeems, restores, and makes whole the broken places we live in. So go home, and find new life and new healing in God’s loving grace. 

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Facing Life's Toughest Battles: Lent 3

Facing Stubbornness: Isaiah 55: 1-9; Luke 13: 6-9

            In school we were required to read the book The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The book explored the struggle of a man named Dr. Jekyll who created a serum which transformed him into this horrible person, Mr. Hyde, who was fueled only by his carnal desires and meanness. The great discovery in the book is that it is not two people, but one who changes back and forth from the good to the bad. The book has even spawned a saying where we call someone a “Jekyll and Hyde” to say they have an unpredictably dual nature—outwardly good, but sometimes shockingly evil. 

            Stubbornness is much this same way. It’s dual in nature. There are times stubbornness can cause us real and severe problems. But there’s sometimes that we can be just stubborn enough to be saved from times of trial and trouble. In its bad form, stubbornness leads us down a road to hardheartedness. But in its good and useful form, stubbornness leads us to strong resilience. The question is who’s driving the stubborn bus that we’re on, us or God? 

            When we are stubborn, we can sometimes become hardhearted. Stubbornness may be defined as a determined refusal to change one’s position even if good arguments are presented to us. We read in our Gospel lesson that Jesus told a parable to the people. In this parable, he is giving them a talking to. He told them about a fig tree which was a constant disappointment. Year after year, it stubbornly refused to produce anything. After three years of enduring stubbornness by the tree, the man has decided it’s time for it to go. It will be cut down and done away with.

            Jesus was tired of the stubbornness of the people who continued to be spiritually immature. Just prior to this parable, there was some conversation that if bad things happen to people, it’s because of their sin. Jesus says no to this stubborn old, and sometimes cruel, belief. It is time to put this old, stubborn, and hardhearted notion to rest once and for all. If someone endures suffering in this life, it does not mean they are a sinner and being punished. You don’t tell a lie and get a hurricane. You don’t cheat on your taxes and cause a pandemic. God does not send a boil on your bum for each swear word you say. That’s petty; that’s not God. 

            Instead, we have to live with the consequences which stem from our willful refusal to follow God, our stubbornness in this life. God may not orchestrate a sickness upon us, but if we don’t practice safety, we will get sick and maybe face dire outcomes. God may not send the boil, but if you don’t treat it, you get sepsis. In the same way, a stubborn refusal to seek and follow Christ will lead us to a hardhearted place where we find the Mr. Hyde of the story. Stubbornness is expensive, and it costs us whatever joy, hope, or salvation is found in the good news we reject. Think of the suffering Pharaoh and his people endured only because he was stubborn and hardened his heart to God. Stubbornness which leads us down the hardhearted road will surely lead us to produce no good fruit and leave us following paths that lead us away from God’s grace. 

            But there is some good which can come from being a bit stubborn, and that is found when we use our stubbornness to create strength and resilience. In Isaiah, God is calling the people through the prophet to return to God’s wisdom. Verse 2 says, “Listen to me, and you will eat what is good. You will enjoy the finest food.” If the people but turn their hearts to God, then God will make an everlasting covenant just as existed with King David. However, God says the people must listen to God’s wise counsel. 

            Our fig tree is much the same. The gardener intervened into the destructive intent of the owner. He offers to give the fig tree special attention and nurture it with plenty of fertilizer. The hope is that the tree can be turned from barren waste to a tree full of strong resilience and good fruit. When I think of a good sense of stubbornness I’m think immediately to the Ukrainian people and President Zelenskyy, all of whom have stayed in the country and vowed to fight the evil stubbornness and devastation which has been unleashed upon them. 

            God needs stubborn people—people who know how to be strong in hard times, who have the courage to speak truth, love with compassion, and live in God’s justice and mercy. I often say stubbornness is what saved this church years ago. There was a small handful of people in 2007 who resolutely said that this church would not close though times were tough. And now, for almost 15 years since, we have grown, changed, and ministered mightily in this church and in this community. 

            The trouble with stubbornness is it must always be nurtured for good. For Dr. Jekyll, the fascination with being the wicked and indulgent Mr. Hyde got the better of him. He lost control and began changing into the evil persona even when he didn’t want to do so. Eventually, Mr. Hyde won out and Dr. Jekyll was lost. The way to build stubbornness into resilience and strength which dos good work and produces good fruit is through nurture, wisdom, and lots of good fertilizer on our own fig trees. That sense of strength and goodness, that deep rooted grace within us, must be constantly tended to, so that our roots grow even deeper, and our lives produce much good fruit for God. 

            The question for us, then, is will we be a stubborn people like Israel wandering in the desert, or will we be a stubborn people like Paul who followed God and preached the Good News no matter what? Are we willing to let God work on or person and character to make something good and beautiful, and Christlike out of it? As the hymn says, “Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling…” Why tarry stubbornly when Jesus is pleading? Why linger stubbornly and ignore God’s loving mercy? 

If Jesus told a parable about each of us as a fig tree, what would he say? How deep would Jesus say our roots go? How much time have we spent being nurtured and tended to by our holy gardener? And most important in our daily walk with Christ—what kind of good fruit are we producing? 

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Facing Life's Tough Battles: Lent 2

Facing Opposition: Psalm 27; Luke 13: 31-35

            It is safe to say that the stories of Jesus are often my favorite part of the Bible. Because of my work in criminal justice, I’m fascinated by the words, the behaviors, and the teachings. Some of Jesus’s responses are so filled with care, gentleness, compassion, and the kind of healing that just lifts up every broken piece and makes it perfectly whole. And…then there’s this scripture. 

            As much as I love the loving, caring, and sacrificial behaviors of Jesus, there’s something that’s a bit thrilling when Jesus gets all sassy with people who are causing trouble. In some ways it speaks to our own inner smart aleck, who looks at this and says, “Mhmm.” Jesus, in today’s scripture, and in much of his life faced opposition and personal difficulty. Whether Herod, the Pharisees, or a populace that went with whatever whim in their mind that day, Jesus faced times when he had to defend and push back. There are two main ways to handle opposition in our lives: confrontationally or sacrificially. 

            One of the ways Jesus handled opposition and trial was confrontationally. A few of the Pharisees came to him with a warning that Herod Antipas wanted to kill Jesus, and he should flee from the Jerusalem area if he wanted to live. I think Jesus really questions their motives for this. Remember this is the Pharisees, so it’s just as probable that they simply want Jesus gone as much as they want to warn and help him. Jesus’s answer seems to imply that he also suspects their motives for warning him about Herod’s wrath. Though, Herod was certainly not some easy-going king. By this point, he’d had John the Baptist brutally killed, so it was highly likely he had his murderous intents set on Jesus as well. 

            Jesus, rather than cower at Herod’s political power, tells the Pharisees to go and tell Herod that Jesus’s purpose would be accomplished. Jesus had a mission of redemption and salvation, and there was no power on Earth, which Herod had, that could interfere with Jesus’s mission. Jesus even calls him a fox. That’s meant to imply that Herod is cunning, sneaky, devious. Jesus uses the image of the fox to conjure up some predator sneaking into a henhouse to kill and destroy. Herod tried to be a bully, but Jesus had none of it. 

            This confrontational Jesus is not just limited to this particular scripture. We also see Jesus flip tables in the temple when the house of God is perverted for profit. We see Jesus defiant and strong against would-be plots to trip him up with weird questions and theological challenges from the Pharisees and Sadducees. Where there is injustice, impropriety in the house of God, or religious rigidity which did not follow with Jesus’s call to love, forgiveness, and redemption, Jesus flipped tables, called out the foxes, and challenged the leaders who were holding the Jewish people hostage in a cold, dead, and legalistic and hateful religion. 

            Where that exists today, we must gently, faithfully, and with every word and movement based in God’s word challenge and confront what is wrong, unjust, and un-Christlike in our society. Jesus had no problem confronting those who spoke religious words but had no faith. Jesus had no problem calling the corrupt Herod Antipas a fox. Jesus had no trouble calling for holy changes in God’s house. Sometimes, opposition, whether active opposition or the oppression of the status quo, demands that we gather up our spiritual wits and confront it. 

            But, as Ecclesiastes says, to everything there is a season and time. There is also a time for sacrifice when opposition arises. To those who are fighters and not lovers, this one may be a bit harder. Jesus foreshadows what will happen when he returns to Jerusalem, saying, “You will never see me again until you say, ‘Blessings on the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’” The next time they would see Jesus is when he is set up to be killed. 

            Jerusalem had a long history of showing a low tolerance for prophets. Stephen was martyred there. Jerusalem had also killed Uriah, Zechariah, several killed by Manasseh, Josephus Antiquites, and according to some scholars, Isaiah. Jesus understood sometimes the cure for opposition is sacrifice. He told the disciples that there is no greater love than laying down one’s life for another. The Psalm tells us that evil may come to devour us and foes may attack us, but there is strength to be found in God. The Psalm tells us, “Be brave and courageous. Wait patiently for the Lord.” 

            Biblically, the greatest story of overcoming opposition was that of Jesus going to the cross to sacrifice for us. Jesus tells the Pharisees in his pointed words to Herod, “I will keep on casting out demons and healing people today and tomorrow; and the third day I will accomplish my purpose.” Jesus’s purpose, though, wasn’t to defeat that fox once and for all. His purpose was a cross looking toward a resurrection which would cast out evil and heal us all. It is sometimes hard to accept that the Jesus who flipped tables in righteous fury is also the Christ of the cross, who gave his life and taught us what it means to sacrifice for others. 

            As a society, we seem to have become comfortable with being confrontational, but we’ve lost or understanding or desire to be sacrificial. Perhaps it’s seen as weak, as giving up or giving in, or maybe we’d just rather fuss vaguely about having “our rights” when called on to sacrifice. Jesus confronted what was unjust but sacrificed himself for others. We, too, are called to both. We must stand with Jesus against the foxes of this world and the foxes of the church. Make no mistake, Herod practiced the Jewish religion—he was neither pagan nor atheist. 

            But we are also called to live sacrificially. Just as Jesus walked a lonely road to the cross for us, we must take up our cross daily and serve God. If you’re like me, you might really enjoy reading about this sassy Jesus who called Herod a fox and let it rip on the temple corruption. But also, we both have to realize that our hope and or faith is found in the Christ of the cross, who gives love, forgiveness, and life to all. 

 Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/674580467200793

Facing Life's Tough Battles, Lent 1

Facing the Wilderness—Deut. 26: 1-11; Luke 4: 1-13

            Today’s Gospel lesson begins with the words that Jesus “was led by the Spirit in the wilderness.” Many of the Biblical Commentaries give great detail to the theology surrounding the temptations. They talk extensively about the Christology of this passage, meaning an explanation of how Jesus is shown as the Son of God. But, for us, right now, the concern is how do we cope with living in the wilderness? Jesus was baptized, filled with the Spirit, energized, and living on the great spiritual high place, then immediately, he found himself in the wilderness. How do we, too, live in the wilderness? 

            There’s also the Deuteronomy passage for us, which records the departure of the Hebrew people from Egypt. If you recall, it was 40 years they wandered in the desert. But most translations call it a wilderness, not a desert. In thinking on that scripture, it’s easy to judge and say, “How dumb do you have to be to mess up so badly that God sends you to wander in the wilderness for 40 years?” But the truth is, it’s a lot easier to wind up in the wilderness than you may think. 

            Many of us find ourselves in the wilderness these days. Life has seemed kind of heavy. The news is dire. Our good health is fleeing quickly. We’re facing new places and challenges in life we never expected. All of these places that challenge our peace, comfort, and ease of mind can be rightly called a wilderness. Basically, you don’t have to be in a literal desert to find yourself in the wilderness. It’s a place of temptation, trial, and fear which all hit us when we are most weak, vulnerable, and insecure in our lives. 

            In that point of great weakness, need, and vulnerability, Jesus was not only struggling physically in the wilderness; he was also viciously tempted by Satan to make him utterly fail. It is when you are at your lowest point in life’s wilderness that your trials and temptations will shout the loudest. The three points where Satan sought to tempt Jesus were doubt, greed, and selfishness. 

            Jesus was starving after fasting for 40 days, struggling, weary, and tired. Satan comes to him recognizing this weakness and taunts both Jesus’s sovereignty and exploits his hunger. Satan tells Jesus to turn the stones to bread. He doesn’t tempt Jesus to actually eat. He only lays the bait. He calls on Jesus to doubt that God the Father will sustain him through the wilderness and fasting. Jesus then redirects Satan—bread is not the point of life; God is the author, the source, and the whole reason for life. 

            Then Satan tempts Jesus with greed. He offers the kingdoms of the world to Jesus. This temptation is harder than you may initially think. Greed is more than just money. It’s a lust power. It’s a gluttony for living in ways of excess which cause us to worship the world and its blessings instead of the One who created the world and all the blessings of it. If your wilderness is boredom, addiction, a desire for things, or a dissatisfaction with God and God’s blessings, then this is a tough temptation at your lowest point for it invites you to a momentary feel-good place instead of working through the trial with God. The invitation is to come and worship bad habits which feel good for a moment, instead of God who is strong and loving in every moment of life. 

            Then Satan tempts Jesus with selfishness. Satan takes Jesus to the holiest place and, knowing Jesus will not worship Satan, asks Jesus to worship himself. There’s an old movie called The Devil’s Advocate, where Al Pacino plays the devil. One of his lines in the movie is, “Vanity is my favorite sin.” Selfishness shows up a number of ways: criticizing constantly, needing to be right and show you are right (which I confess I need to lay on the altar myself), refusing to acknowledge a need for God and those who are around you. Vanity is an easy temptation because humility doesn’t exactly feel good most days. But we must find a careful, spirit-filled balance between good self-esteem and self-worship. 

            Jesus overcomes temptation. After tiring of Satan’s antics, he flat says, “You must NOT test the Lord your God.” With that Satan is finished…for now. An important point is that we are told Satan leaves “until the next opportunity.” Life is lived through a series of trials and temptations. It’s unfair, I’ll be the first to admit. But the unfairness is evened out, because just as Jesus had the strength to respond and navigate through the wilderness, so do we. The Hebrew people spent 40 years struggling through the wilderness, but God saw them through to the promised land. Jesus suffered for 40 days in the wilderness, but he came through and began a work which saved the world. 

            Living life in the wilderness is hard, and there’s no way to soften that truth. But the wilderness is made more bearable by a few things in life. First, like Jesus, we must face the wilderness filled with the Holy Spirit.  There’s really no other way to go through life’s wilderness and trials. Second we have a Savior who has suffered through and overcome the wilderness and a God who has power over all things including the power to get us through the wilderness. 

            Finally, we have people who will journey with us. I was cleaning out emails the other day and came across an old one from 2012 where Sissy, or Saint Sissy, as we called her wrote me an email while I was out sick with the flu. I imagined her sitting and slowly typing the short email with her small hands twisted up with arthritis, but still persisting in sending me a message. She told me to drink lots of hot green tea because it’s soothing for the throat and fever. She added, let God love on you. Me too. Sissy. Facing the wilderness can be frightening, the unknown, the doubt we carry, the inhumanity we see every day. But God is always with us, and there are those around us who will be our help and support as we journey together. As the hymn says, “What have I to dread, what have I to fear [when I’m] leaning on the everlasting arms?” Amen. 

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