Category Archives: Faith

I Am Stone

I see people on fire for the Lord. They spread the Good News like flames surging through dry brush during a summer drought.

While I stand on the edge of the field. Watching. Silent.

Envious.

I am not fire. I am stone. Hard and heavy. Immovable.

Yet that is my gift. Because God can use stones to spread the Good News, too.

How, do you ask?

Stones provide strength, a firmer foundation on otherwise shaky ground, such as a beach where sand gives sway to the waves and wind.

Why God chose to make me a rock over a flame, I don’t know. Perhaps I will. Someday. Then again, it’s not a question that deserves an answer. What matters is I remain that rock and depend on God to make me stronger.

All who get fatigued need a place to rest, and be certain that where they rest will be steady. Immovable. And yes, even silent, because sometimes it’s in the silences that we hear God’s voice the clearest.

So while those on fire will find the ones who need to be set aflame themselves, I will watch and wait, not with envy, but with anticipation for those who need a rock to stand on or rest upon. Perhaps, God willing, so they can hear God’s voice in the silence.

“Well Done, Good and Faithful Servant.”

Anyone who’s read my blog and comments will be familiar with one of my most loyal readers, Arnie Fleck.

He didn’t always agree with me, and he was also never afraid to say so. Our discussions were often lively yet always respectful—with some humor thrown in now and then.

Whenever I wrote an entry, especially with regard to Jesus, scripture, or religion in general, I always thought of him and tried to anticipate his reaction. Doing so always helped me make certain I made my stance clear so as not to awaken the dragon who learned how to argue in law school.

I tease, but his love of Jesus, scripture, and law, and to always look deeper has always inspired me.

He passed away on April 1, 2021 at the age of 63.

I will miss him, his words, his encouragement, and, yes, his almost eager willingness to disagree, but I also look forward to the same lively discussions when I, too, reach beyond this mortal veil.

God speed, my friend.

Abandoned?

Last night I watched Episode 2, Season 2 of The Chosen, and it undid me. I bet I blubbered for five minutes after the show ended.

In one scene, the character, Nathanial, cried out to God when a building he designed failed, and how could he fail when everything he did was for God’s glory? At one point he even asked, “Why have you turned your face from me?”

Later he meets Jesus, and one of the first things Jesus said was, “I could not turn my face from you.”

I can’t count how many times I felt as though Jesus has turned away, that all I do—or at least attempt to do—to glorify him is nothing but ash, meaningless, without purpose, a waste of time.

Yet Jesus has not turned away from me, or any of us who seeks him out. We just have to be patient and understand that how we’re using our talents/skills today may take an entirely different turn tomorrow. That our failure may instead be a new opportunity, and Jesus is ever present, ever aware, and will never turn his face away.

A Walking Eyeball?

The instructor for my Wednesday Bible study could be described with one word: evangelist. Her heart and soul is filled with desire to bring others to Christ, to the point of overflowing. She sincerely loves Jesus like few I’ve ever seen.

I am simultaneously inspired, envious, and saddened at my own lack of the same.

Unlike her, I don’t feel the same pull to evangelize to non-believers. As such, I can’t help but ask why. Am I lacking in my own faith? Am I not focused enough on his voice and his word, so in the end he has no (or little) use of me?

Some of you will be rolling your eyes at me, I’m sure. Me questioning my strength and faith is nothing new, and some of you have expressed (for years), that I’m silly to doubt my faith.

Let me assure you that I don’t doubt my faith. My questions derive from my need to strengthen it. How can I do that if I don’t ask questions and seek out where I’m weak?

So back to my question. Am I lacking in something, because I have neither the gift nor desire to win lost souls to Jesus?

Or do I have neither, because Jesus has other plans for me?

One thing I love about both Jesus and Paul are their surgically sharp use of exaggeration and rhetoric to make a point.

In this case, how Paul describes the Body of Christ in 1 Corinthians 12:12-31. Because of its imagery, verse 17 in particularly has always stuck with me: “If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell?” The first part makes me think of Mike Wazowski in Pixar’s “Monsters, Inc.”

Silly imagery aside, it’s the perfect vehicle to make a point, or as Rush Limbaugh used to say, “Being absurd to illustrate absurdity.”

Paul was illustrating the absurd notion that all our gifts should be the same.

Thus proving my own absurdity for believing I (and my gifts) are lacking, simply because my life, gifts and desires don’t mirror others.

So what then are my gifts? What does Jesus intend for me to do if it’s not to evangelize to the lost?

All I can do is ask where my passions point toward instead of where they don’t.

In the simplest terms, I love the Bible, God’s Word. And what I hate is when people (Christians especially) twist scripture to mean the exact opposite of what it says, or when they ignore certain passages in favor of others in order to give themselves license to act a certain way.

That’s not to say I shouldn’t point the lost to Jesus. Quite the contrary. That is the ultimate goal of all within the Body of Christ—of which I’m a part. I’m simply not an evangelist whereby that’s my main and singular goal. Perhaps my job instead is to encourage and help those who do.

So does my passion make me an apologist instead, perhaps even a critic?

I’ll be the first to tell you I don’t know ten percent of what I should about scripture… I know just enough to be dangerous. Yet lately I’ve been in a studious mood both with the Bible study as well as reading non-fiction by those far more knowledgeable about scripture than me.

Or maybe I’m not an apologist so much (at least not yet) as I am a student. Either way, that’s where I belong in the Body as of now (because that could always change). And who am I to argue with God that I’m an ear instead of an eye—figuratively speaking?

Brain Food

Everyone approaches Jesus a little bit differently. Some approach him with the heart, others with the head. Many of us use a combination of both, which is important, I think. The most important part of God’s law, after all, can be summed up with “Love God with all your heart, all your soul and all your mind.”

I can appreciate those who search for and find Jesus with their heart. I, however, am not one of those. That’s not to say I’ve never felt God’s presence, or that he’s never comforted my heart when I needed it. He most certainly has. Yet I still seek him with my head first. I long to know him as much as I enjoy feeling his presence. I want him to teach me all about himself, and for him to show me all of his creation and how it works.

So when I saw the book at my church by Lee Strobel called “The Case for the Real Jesus,” (Zondervan, 2007) how could I, in my insatiable intellectual curiosity, not pick it up?

This one addresses five attacks on Christ’s identity, namely that the resurrection never happened, Jesus never considered himself the Messiah, the early church suppressed other, equally valid and important gospels, that scribes tampered with the Bible, and how Jesus dying on the cross for our sins is a “barbaric concept that would make God guilty of cosmic child abuse.”

I’m on page fifty-three so far, and it’s feeding my brain. Hence the title of this entry. Lee Strobel, like me, approaches God with logic, rational arguments and digs for concrete, verifyable evidence for Jesus. His approach is similar to Dennis Prager, another one of my favorite biblical/religious scholars, but that’s a side topic…

Strobel takes nothing on faith alone. Everything he believes—or chooses to believe—must be verifiable. Like his other books, he brings us along on his journey of discovery, to ask the difficult questions knowing that such a journey could end up changing all his notions of who God is. That’s a hard road to travel, because few people want their beliefs—especially long-held beliefs—to be proved false.

It’s often a matter of pride, that fear. Who likes to admit they’re wrong or perhaps been deceived? I know I don’t.

Yet I also know, like Strobel, and even in Matt Walsh’s book I discussed in a previous entry, the truth matters more than anything. It does not change or become a lie simply because we chose to ignore or disbelieve it.

So do any of the above attacks against Jesus and Christianity have merit? You’ll have to take that journey of discovery yourself. As of now, for me, my brain is full. It’ll be hungry for more in the morning, I’m sure. Luckily, unlike real food, brain food doesn’t add literal fatty pounds to my belly.

Seek Thee First…

Every Monday evening, I participate in an hour-long Twitter chat using the hashtag “healthyfaith.” One person hosts and asks 10 questions either about a certain religious subject or a particular chapter/verse of the Bible.

Last night’s was about meditation and how Christians should view/practice meditation vs how the world views/practices it.

The short version is while eastern meditation (which many in the Western world have embraced) relies largely on emptying the mind, for the Christian, it’s the opposite. We must instead focus and fill our mind with prayer, worship, scripture, and God himself. Because if we empty our mind, something will eventually fill it, and that something may be something that should not be there.

I also mentioned during the discussion that I don’t take enough time to meditate on God’s word, prayer or praise. I make daily time for my friends and family, why then do I not do the same for the Creator of the universe and the one who died to save me from my sins? Shouldn’t he be first on my mind in the morning, throughout the day, and the last thing on my mind as I search for sleep?

Apparently God isn’t finished teaching me this lesson. A few years ago, I purchased a book called “Morning and Evening: The Classic Daily Devotional” by Charles Spurgeon. Based on last night’s chat, I figured it’s time I set at least fifteen minutes each day with God and God alone. Reading (and pondering) the morning lesson in the book would likely be a good start.

Because God loves symmetry and likes to poke at me to prove how well he knows me—in this case by teaching me the same lesson over and over again, I bet you can guess what the subject of this morning’s devotion is.

Yep, it’s about finding God where we set him aside (or lost him). One example he gave was, “Did you lose Christ by neglecting the Scriptures? You must find Christ in the Scriptures.”

He also says, “Take care, then, when you find your Master, to cling close to Him.”

So here I am, reading, studying, pondering. Giving him a moment of my time so that I may learn to cling to him, never again to let him go. We’ll see how long it lasts… but at the very least, I’ll know where to find God if I lose him again.

Keeping an Eye on the Sunset

“Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger,” Ephesians 4:26

This has always been one of my favorite verses. I remember it often (although not always) when I get angry at someone or something.

As to the first part of the verse: We sometimes think anger as a negative emotion, something to avoid. Some have even been told or believe that anger itself is a sin.

Yet, like fear can be healthy (as I described in a previous post), so anger can be, too. It spurs us to act against injustice, bad behavior, and other sins. There are plenty of instances in scripture where God, Jesus, and many of his faithful acted in anger, and few could argue those acts were absolutely righteous and correct.

So how are we to know we don’t sin in our anger? One is to take a step back, to look upon the situation with our head as much as our heart. To ask any action helps or hurts the innocent, and does it glorify God.

That leads us to the second part.

It’s important to solve every disagreement as soon as feasible, or let go of an unsolvable issue before the sun sets, because when we don’t, that anger grows and festers.

As anyone who’s ever held a grudge (and that be all of us at one time or another), knows how it can harm and eventually ruin relationships.

We live in a time of anger, and too many of us are destroying our families and friendships over what amounts to very little in the grand and eternal scheme of things.

So if you find anger prowling around, even though it may be justified, make sure to show it the sunset before it digs its claws and teeth into your psyche.

Not of This World

Multiple passages in scripture warn us not to “… love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.” (1 John 2:15 ESV)

I admittedly have to remind myself of that, especially when I lose something worldly that I love. It could be a material item, a friend’s love and respect, or a freedom I enjoyed (and, yes, took for granted).

Does that mean I can’t (or am forbidden to) mourn the loss?

I’ve lost quite a few things this year, including some of the above. Because I’m not supposed to love anything this world has to offer, I’ve tried to stop myself from mourning those losses.

It has resulted in a lot of stress, anger, and frustration, and no amount of prayer and studying scripture has helped.

Or is it okay to grieve? Are we even capable of letting go of our losses without allowing ourselves that moment of grief?

By fighting my need to grieve, thinking it wrong—if not sinful—am I also preventing God’s comfort? After all, did he not promise to comfort those who mourn (Matthew 5:4)?

Another thing I have to remember is that I can’t lie to God. He knows my struggles and weaknesses better than I do. “Stiffening my upper lip” means nothing to him—except that it gets in the way of what he wants me to learn and grow from.

So, yes, I love things in this world I know I shouldn’t. If I am to let them go, however, I must give myself permission to mourn them. Once I let them go, I can then concentrate on and love the Father and everything not of this world instead.

Forcing Gratitude

Interesting title, don’t you think? Is it even possible? Can gratitude really be forced?

For someone to attempt to force others to be grateful, the answer is no. One can act grateful for fear of certain consequences, but in their heart and mind, I’ll wager they’d be far from grateful. I’d even bet they’d be angry and resentful.

I’ll admit I’m of the latter. With Thanksgiving just around the corner, while no one is forcing me to be grateful (as such), I am having a difficult time convincing myself I should be. That’s the whole reason behind the holiday: to express our thanksgiving and gratitude to God for all our blessings.

And I should. Intellectually, I know that. My heart, however, is stubborn. It prefers to mope. To be resentful and keep count of all my losses, frustrations, and failures.

Even pointing out how many have lost more than me isn’t enough to pull my heart out of its malaise.

I know I’m not alone. No one is enjoying (except for politicians, bureaucrats, and tech companies) the current upheaval, the loss of liberties, and the general isolation from friends and family. The latter is especially difficult to accept right now considering Thanksgiving has always been about gathering and sharing in the year’s blessings.

We can’t celebrate that one cornerstone of the holiday this year, whether by a number of family members choosing not to, or by government edict. What, then, is the purpose of celebrating it now when it’s largely stripped of its meaning?

I know what some of you are thinking: I can still celebrate with my immediate family. I can still celebrate with others online. I can still count my many other blessings–for which I am self-aware and honest enough to know they’re innumerable.

Yet ignoring what my heart is telling me is not a solution. It’s pulling the wool over my own eyes.

Unless someone can show me different, no scripture exists that states we must ignore our griefs. And that’s what I’m feeling: grief over losing my country; grief over losing my God-given liberties; grief over my forced isolation; and grief with the certainty it’ll only get worse.

So while God doesn’t demand we never grieve or ignore it, he expects us not to wallow in our grief and provides ways to rise above it. I’ll admit when I searched for relevant scriptures, I was inundated with so many possibilities, how could I possibly narrow it down?

So I concentrated on Psalms, because David so often wrote about his own doubts, struggles, and grief:

Psalm 30:5: “Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.”

Psalm 34:17-18: “The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them;
he delivers them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Psalm 46:10: “Be still, and know that I am God.”

Psalm 147:3: “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

In short, no matter how much we grieve, God is there to lift us up. We just need to take a moment, be still, listen, and healing will come. As long as we believe he will. While gratitude can’t be forced, doing so is certainly in our best interest. Otherwise all we have to hope for is despair.

Bowing to Nebuchadnezzar

I ran into a friend this morning and we got to chatting. At one point she mentioned the book of Daniel, and it reminded me of something I wrote back in 2015. After reading through it again, it seems even more applicable today and worth a repeat:

Yesterday a friend and I talked on Facebook about all the horrible things going on in the world. She commented, “Seriously I do wonder if we’re now living in the end times. The world is in a dreadful state and it is just getting worse.”

To which I responded, “I used to think that, but—at least from what I read—globally before and during WWII things were a lot worse.

“Some days I wonder why God is still waiting and wish he’d just end it already. Other days I’m grateful he’s not, because it gives everyone more opportunities to both spread and understand the truth.

“I feel selfish by wanting it to end, because it’s coming from a place of fear in that I don’t want to see my nation fall, or for my good life to end.

“I have to constantly remind myself that God is still in control. Even if there are hardships I can’t even imagine to come, I know eternity with God awaits me.

“I just hope I continue to have the wherewithal to show God’s love to others, but I sometimes (often) wonder why I bother since so many hearts are hardened against him.

“At least that’s how it seems. I could easily be wrong about that. I’ll never know when my words or deeds will influence someone the right way. Jesus didn’t give up; God hasn’t given up. Nor should I, because then I am no good to him or those who need him.”

I’ve heard a few people express concern that Christians are about to enter an era of persecution in Western countries including the United States.

I often wonder the same thing, especially recently, but then I thought, are trials and persecutions a bad thing—at least as far as the Kingdom of God is concerned?

In all instances when people or government tried to eliminate Christians and Christianity, they have instead resulted in explosive growth. Today, the highest percentage of Christian expansion is occurring in China and other oppressive regimes where it’s supposed to be illegal. Our country is also experiencing revival in spite of state and local governments shutting down or restraining churches.

It’s easy to stand with the faithless when they’re standing. Not so much when they all sit down. That’s when the faithful are noticed. It’s frightening to be singled out and take the risk of being vilified at best–killed at worst.

But that doesn’t mean we should sit down. It’s during the times when the faithless sit down that we must stand up taller. If we don’t, we show the world that we have fallen prey to our own fears; we prove our own faithlessness and even distrust of God’s promises.

After Nebuchadnezzar built his 90-foot-tall golden statue in the book of Daniel, all people from every nation were required to bow down to worship it. Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego refused. They stood up when everyone else bowed. The king noticed and demanded they be thrown into a fiery furnace. Because of their faithfulness, the fires didn’t touch them, and the King and all his men bowed down to worship God.

Sure, their faith led them into the furnace, but it also led them right back out again.

I like to say God loves paradox. He uses our weaknesses to show his strength. He uses the darkest moments in our lives to reveal his grace, his love, and his promises.

He uses the world’s attempt to kill Christianity in order to further his Kingdom.

We must be part of that, otherwise our own faith is meaningless.

Therefore, do not be afraid of today’s or future trials and tribulations. Don’t fret about governments’ attempts at restraining or destroying the Church or our faith. Welcome them, because it’s at those times people will see Jesus most clearly. Our mortal lives and daily comforts should be the smallest price we have to pay to help accomplish it.