The Adversary was bored.  Things had been quiet for a very long time.  His domain was under control with little interference from anyone who mattered.  The Adversary smiled to himself as he considered the success of his work.  The Presence had been silent for many years now, sending no representatives to present His word for over four centuries.  He didn’t understand it, but it made his work very easy.  With things going this well, he was entertaining thoughts of trying to take over another realm, a realm he had been evicted from quite some time before.

But tonight, he was uneasy; something was in the air, but he didn’t know what.  The Adversary liked to know things – he did not like surprises.  So, he had decided to visit Jerusalem.  A visit to the city gave him pleasure and eased his mind.  It was supposedly the stronghold of The Presence, but that was a farce.  Of course, he had no desire to enter the inner areas of the temple where The Presence was strong, but the rest of Jerusalem belonged to him and that gave him satisfaction.  Tonight, though, it did not seem enough to give him peace.

He sensed a change, some kind of activity, and immediately turned his head to the south; something had drawn his attention there.  The Adversary sped in that direction, the uneasy feeling growing stronger in him as he covered several miles in a few moments.

He stopped, amazed.  There, hanging before him in the sky, was a messenger.  It wasn’t unusual to see messengers at work, but this one was appearing to men in the fields, shepherds apparently.  He was speaking.  The Adversary listened intently.  Something about a baby, but he had missed the first part.  What about a baby?  What about a baby was so important that a messenger was sent to announce it?

Suddenly, a host of messengers filled the sky singing praises to The Presence.  The Adversary reeled in pain and confusion.  What was happening?  This wasn’t the way The Presence did things, so out in the open, so … miraculously!  He watched, cringing as the messengers sang.  For an instant something played across his face: regret? longing? pain?  He shook his head and looked angrily at the host.  He would find out what was going on and put a stop to it.  He had claimed this world for his own and was not going to allow such an intrusion.

Just as suddenly, the sky was dark, and the shepherds and The Adversary were gazing at nothing.  Then the men began to move.  Curious, The Adversary followed them as they ran (why are they running, he wondered) to the village of Bethlehem.  Something tugged at the back of his mind about a prophecy concerning Bethlehem, but he couldn’t remember it.  He would have one of his servants find it.

The shepherds led him to an inn, then around to the back of the inn to a stable.  The Adversary could not fathom what was going on … and it bothered him.  He hung back as they approached the stable.  The Adversary considered the scene before him:  a man, poor, tired, but seemingly content.  He had a look of concern on his face as his gaze shifted from the face of a woman to a trough and back again.  He had his arm around the woman, who was really just a girl, supporting her.  The Adversary sensed the man was good, but he felt he was no prophet, no miracle worker.  Of course, he had been wrong about that before, he thought grimly.

His gaze turned to the girl.  He knew instantly that she was something special.  It was certainly not her appearance.  She was obviously poor, just as obviously very tired, in fact, worn out completely, if he could judge these things.  But her smiling eyes told him more.  She was someone to be reckoned with.  The Adversary knew she bore watching.

Both the man and the girl were looking into the trough and he realized the shepherds were, too.  What could be so interesting about a feeding trough?  He approached the stable.

He stopped immediately, at a complete loss as to what to do or where to turn.  The Presence was in the trough.  It was so unexpected, so completely foreign that he felt fear, a fear he had not felt in eons.  The Adversary wanted to turn and flee from the stable, but using every ounce of his will, he stayed.  Once he felt he had a grip on his fear he began to move forward.  He had to see what was actually in the trough that bore the glory of The Presence.

His nerves screaming protest, The Adversary could only move a short distance.  The girl seemed aware of his presence as she looked up, troubled, then reached for the trough.  The man reassured her, but she continued to look about nervously as she picked up a bundle from the trough.

The Adversary clearly saw what she lifted and through a haze he remembered the words he had heard from the messenger earlier:  a baby!  Senses reeling, he turned and fled.  He felt completely out of control.  What was The Presence doing?  He knew the Presence was in the baby, but he did not understand it.

Finding himself in the fields again he stopped.  The shepherds were gone but the sheep remained.  The Adversary wanted to scatter them in anger, to somehow strike back for his sense of helplessness, but he stopped himself.  If any of his servants were to hear of it, he would be mocked behind his back.  His rule was tenuous at best, held in place only because they were all in the same situation, all castaways from The Presence.

That thought made him truly angry and the anger felt good.  His fear retreated although it did not disappear.  He could deal with this.  He could discover what The Presence was doing and create problems.  The Adversary had resisted all the efforts of the puny men The Presence had used over the millennia and this would be no different.

But it was different.  He knew.  The Presence Himself had been in that trough, had been in that baby, had lived and breathed in that baby!  He could never fight The Presence directly, although he once thought he could.  That had been a painful lesson; yet, he still harbored hopes of wrecking earthly plans and somehow defeating The Presence.  But he could fight a baby and a poor couple.  He could assemble his servants and plans would be made to use weak men to do his will, to slaughter the baby, in fact, to slaughter every baby in the area.  That would be a lesson!  He thought with pleasure of seeing that baby die.  What would The Presence do then, he smirked?

The Adversary began making plans as he glanced into the empty sky where the host had been.  He had not looked up into the night sky for a long, long time, for it gave him pain.  He noticed a star he did not remember seeing before, and he recoiled from it.  The star was different, special, and he knew it was somehow tied to the baby in the stable.

Shaking his fist at the star he turned, but then he turned back to look up again.  Although it hurt his eyes to look at the star, he did, for a long time.  He spoke, “I don’t know what you’re doing.  I don’t know what this means.  I don’t know what you expect to accomplish.  But know this: I will fight it and I will fight it with the very men you love.  And I will see this end.”  He paused, “This will come to nothing … nothing.”  His voice trailed off, sounding hollow in the empty night.

The Adversary turned to leave.  There was much work to be done.

Many years ago, I saw and laughed at this cartoon by B. Kliban:

Of course, the irony is that we’re all former children although it wasn’t hell for all of us.  You may not find the cartoon funny, but then, you’re not me (be thankful).

I am a former pastor.  I can honestly say this cartoon would not apply to my overall experience as a pastor: it was not hell.  However, there were days ….

Since I am not actively pastoring a church now, I can say without fear of accusations of self-interest: Love your pastor.  It is Pastor Appreciation Month, but that’s not what prompted this blog entry.  Last Sunday, Michele and I attended the church I formerly pastored to celebrate its 50^th anniversary.  It was a special time and we were grateful to be there.  Unfortunately, I tend to focus on the unfortunate things that happened during my pastorate – the failures, the disagreements, the broken relationships, etc.  I realize that these things come with the territory because neither pastors nor parishioners are perfect.  However, on Sunday as I looked around the congregation at many people I love, God reminded me of all the good that He brought about while I was there.  I silently asked myself what my favorite part of serving as a pastor was and the answer that immediately came to mind was “each and every conversation about Jesus and salvation and each and every baptism.”

There can be immense joy in pastoring, just as there can be sorrow and frustration, but the joy far outweighs the other stuff.  If the angels rejoice when one person accepts God’s grace, then how can a pastor who has been instrumental in that process ever believe otherwise?

When I was serving at the church, we kept the stage clear for the praise team during the early part of the service.  As I took the steps someone would lift a small podium/pulpit and place it center stage.  Until that time, the podium was placed off to the side of the stage waiting to be used.  The current pastor had pulled an older, grander pulpit from mothballs and placed it center stage. However, the smaller one was still occupying its place of waiting off to the side.  It reminded me of something I experienced several months before I left the church, and before I knew I would be leaving.

Michele and I were sitting in our customary places on the second row during praise and worship time.  As we sang I looked over at the podium.  That morning, for some reason, one of the colored spotlights was hitting it just right and it was softly highlighted by a warm blue light.  It struck me how lonely it looked which translated in my head into how lonely it can be to serve as a pastor.  My eyes welled up as I was struck by this visual representation of what I occasionally felt.  I shared it with Michele then composed myself so I could preach.  I’ll admit that I occasionally tear up in the pulpit when moved, but I wasn’t going to start a sermon that way.

That moment has stayed with me and I felt it again last Sunday as I stared at that podium.  Pastoring is a lonely role.  Michele was (and is), of course, my greatest supporter and confidant, but ultimately the pastor bears much of the burden of the position alone.  Reading verses like Hebrews 13:17 (Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they keep watch over your souls as those who will give an account.  Let them do this with joy and not with grief, for this would be unprofitable for you.) only adds to the sense of burden and loneliness.  Please don’t misunderstand me – serving as a pastor is an awesome privilege.  I never expected to serve as a senior pastor not sensing that as my calling, but I wouldn’t trade the experience for the world.  It was special, and I will treasure the role and the people I served for the rest of my life.

So, love your pastor.  As already noted, he’s not perfect.  He will struggle.  He will make mistakes.  But his intentions are usually good, and his mission is to serve God while serving alongside you.  Also understand that your pastor does not work for you, the church member.  He works for the Lord; you just happen to pay his salary (and I hope you pay him well).

Pray for your pastor.  There are few things sweeter to a pastor than to know his folks are lifting him up to the Lord, and he can feel the power of those prayers.

Support your pastor.  If you disagree strongly with something he’s done or said, approach him about it.  Talk to him, not about him.  Encourage him and speak well of him to others when appropriate.  Don’t worry about keeping him humble; if he’s committed to serving then God will see to it that he stays humble.

As he nears the end of his life, you don’t want your pastor to be the old man in the cartoon.  You want the caption to read, “It wasn’t heaven, but it gave me a glimpse of it,” recalls former pastor.

In three days this past weekend, three people were shot to death in my hometown of Jacksonville and many others were injured by gunfire.  One was killed after a high school football game and two were killed while playing in a video game tournament.

This morning I joined hands with a group of people at my church to pray for the victims’ families, the city, its leaders and that churches would be the light of the gospel to a city that is hurting.  A local politician has called for churches to step up.  As my pastor said, “… the church must understand that to ‘step up’ means we must first kneel before God together, seeking His face, His will, while confessing our sins of complacency and self-promotion …  Pray.  Step up.  Kneel down.  Step outside and be the light in the darkness.” (David Tarkington – http://getreal.typepad.com/get_real_with_david_tarki/2018/08/if-pray-is-simply-a-trending-hashtag-we-are-doing-this-wrong.html)

How can we stop this kind of violence?  To solve a problem or stop bad behavior, it is best to get to the source and tackle it there.  Is the source the availability of guns?  Is the source the cultural ethic within a group that says killing someone is a reasonable action?  Is the source a breakdown in traditional family structure with two involved parents?  Is the source untreated or ignored mental illness?

The source of this kind of violence may include all of these things, but at heart the source is sin.  It is not popular to say that in our world.  Many people don’t believe in sin, let alone God.  Whether we like it or not, whether we think of ourselves as sinners or not, sin is a reality.  All of us are sinners and are separated from God and the relationship he wants with us.

We call these acts “senseless violence.”  While it seems senseless to most people, to the people pulling the trigger it made sense, if only in the moment.  Most of us cannot understand that.  Most of us value life too much to take it from a fellow human.  Yet murder was the answer the shooters arrived at, including the shooter taking his own life at the gaming tournament.

How is a believer to respond?  We must grieve.  We must pray for all involved.  We must pray that in the violence and the loss that God will be found, that people will feel the tug of the grace that He offers.  We must love.

A believer must not compromise on Scripture; therefore, a believer cannot compromise on sin, but we also do not have the luxury of compromising on love.  In Matthew 22:37-40, Jesus said, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.  This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.  All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”  Everything in the Bible hangs on loving God and loving others!  We must offer love and grace to everyone.

We often cite part of a verse found in 1 John 4: “God is love.” (verse 8).  But we sometimes miss the entire verse: “The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love.”   This is a beautiful verse, but it is also a deep theological statement.  It describes an intimate relationship.  It reveals God’s motivation for His actions from Creation to Redemption.  It is personal.  It is only by knowing God that we learn to love, and it is only by loving that we know God better.

God’s love for us prompted him to act.  In verse 10 of 1 John 4 we find that love prompted God to send His Son as payment for our sin.  Romans 5:8 reminds us that “God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”  Further in 1 John we are told that because God is love, “so also are we in this world.” (4:17) That is a bold statement that simply means if the world is going to see the love of God as a reality, it will see it in the actions of His people.

Verse 18 reminds us that there is no fear in love, that in fact, there is no room for fear because perfect love eliminates fear.  We need not fear people who are different than us.  We need not fear people who disagree with us.  We need not fear ideologies or other belief systems.  To disagree with someone does not mean discriminating against them or destroying them, but neither does loving someone mean condoning or approving of sin.  However, we must love.

I’m still trying to figure out what that looks like in this situation.  I couldn’t have prevented the shootings or taken a bullet aimed at someone else.  I don’t know any of the victims’ families to reach out to personally.  I can’t offer a hug or even a casserole.  But I encounter people every day that I can love.  I can focus on them and their need for a relationship with their Savior, rather than focus on their politics or their behavior or the way they dress or their perceived social standing.  I can truly listen and truly respond.  “We love because He first loved us.” (1 John 4:19).  We have no choice.  We should want no choice.

My mother died eleven years ago today.  She suffered with Alzheimer’s the last sixteen years of her life.   It first showed up as short-term memory loss.  Then it became evident in her speech.  At one point, she simply began to repeat what was said to her.  Later, she stopped talking altogether.  One day she fell and never got up again; she stopped walking.  The last two years of her life were spent in a bed in a nursing home where her physical needs could properly be met.

We certainly grieved her loss when she died, but we grieved her loss for a long time before that.  Mom was no longer an active part of our lives even as she continued to live.  I know many people have been through this with loved ones, but it is a very strange and hard thing to have someone physically present who is not really present, not engaged in the daily activities going on around her.  We missed her long before she died.

We can cry “unfair!” when things like Alzheimer’s occur, but it is not really unfair.  Alzheimer’s is part of our world, a broken and fallen world where diseases were never meant to occur.  What seems especially unfair is that my mother was a loving and faithful woman.  She exercised a strong faith in her Savior and lived it every day.  She loved my brother and me fiercely.  She served God faithfully. Why remove such a woman from such a life, yet allow her physical shell to linger?

Yet her legacy lives on.  My mother was a crafter.  She was always sewing, knitting, crocheting, etc.  We have afghans and blankets and coasters and needlepoint pictures and countless other things she made over the years.  She left us with boxes of fabric and supplies, including a small bag containing crocheted squares intended for another blanket.  Our daughter Megan is a crafter, too.  We have passed along to her several things of my mother’s including the crocheted squares.  Megan used those squares to create a small blanket.

The picture is of my mother’s great-granddaughter, Madeline, Megan’s daughter, who was born exactly three weeks ago.  The blanket laid over her is a joint effort between my mother and my daughter that took twenty-plus years to create.  I cannot look at this picture without tearing up.  It is a precious reminder of love that Megan has already promised will be passed along to her sisters when they have children.

But a blanket is not the only legacy my mother left.  We recently re-joined the church of our youth and I have heard countless stories about my mother and father and how loved they were.  She lives on in the memories of those who knew and appreciated her, and I am grateful for their memories and the stories they share.  She lives on in my brother’s heart (he is a special needs guy who is very special) who speaks of her frequently and tells me he will be with her again.  She lives on in my wife, Michele, who sat under my mother’s teaching as a teenager in Sunday School.  It was wonderful to watch them grow closer together through life. She lives on in my daughters who have various memories of her depending on their ages when the Alzheimer’s truly took effect.  I appreciate that they were raised living with our extended family including my grandmother, my Alzheimer’s mother and my special needs brother.  They have learned that love comes in many different shapes and dimensions.

My mother lives on in me.  I never doubted her love nor her faith.  She instilled values in me that have formed who I am, and I can still hear her voice in my head and heart.  Michele says she sounded like Dinah Shore for those of you who remember her.  Sometimes it is that Dinah Shore voice I hear and sometimes it is the “JONATHAN ANDREW KENDRICK” voice, but even the discipline was administered from a wellspring of love.

My mother gave me a bookmark before Alzheimer’s set in; it is almost as if she knew it was coming.  On the front is a drawing of Winnie the Pooh and Christopher Robin with a quotation from Christopher: “Promise me you’ll never forget me.  Ever.  Even when I’m a hundred.”  On the back, my mother wrote, “Jon, even if I grow old and forget everything, I will never forget you and always love you in my heart.”

I Iove you, Mom.  I look forward to our reunion.

United States immigration policies and enforcement are big in the news right now.  Some people come to the US illegally, but many come legally and at great personal sacrifice.  I have read stories of mothers and fathers leaving their children to come to the US, with the hope that they can eventually bring their children with them.  Sometimes families are separated for the rest of their lives as adults make the decision to immigrate and know they will perhaps never see their parents again. These are testimonies to the lure of freedom and the desperation people have to better their lives and, perhaps escape persecution or poverty.

There is another kind of testimony each believer can give: their testimony about the freedom they have in Christ.  As believers, we hold citizenship in another country, a better country.

Living with the Promise

Hebrews 11 is known as the Faith Hall of Fame.  The writer described faith in verse 1 as “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen,” and then described faith in action using Abel, Noah, Abraham and Sarah. After the interlude of verses 13-16, he describes other faithful people.

All these died in faith, without receiving the promises, but having seen them and having welcomed them from a distance, and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a country of their own. Hebrews 11:13-14

Abraham was a stranger in a strange land looking for the country God had promised him.  He left his home in Ur based on a promise from God and was seeking his country.  In light of this faithfulness, consider verse 13:  they died never having fully received the promise God had made in verse 1, but they looked to the future and trusted God.  Their desire was to pass through this world without taking on its character.  Psalm 84:5 tells us: “How blessed is the man whose strength in in You, in whose heart are the highways to Zion!” Regardless of where the highways take us in this world, we must remember we are on a highway to Heaven (there’s an idea for a TV show!).

I have a hiking T-shirt with the saying, “The journey is the destination” on the front. That’s kind of true in hiking, but is it true in the life of a Christian?  The journey is wonderful – our lives are gifts from God and we are to glorify Him with our lives – but we do need to be concerned with the destination.  These folks mentioned in Hebrews knew they didn’t belong to this world.  They were strangers and exiles here.  Even Abel, only one generation removed from the Garden, was a stranger.  His parents were literal exiles.  It’s as if these faithful folks had a homing instinct within them – they knew they were supposed to be somewhere else. These people who trusted God, including Abraham, were not seeking a country of their own; a land for settlement. They were seeking something better.  They lived in the light of promises God had made to them, promises they knew would never be realized in their lifetimes.  We are in the same state, living with the promise of eternity.  We must trust God while walking the path on earth, knowing He will keep his promise to us.

A Better Country

Abraham left Ur of Chaldea on a word from God.  He could have gone back if he had become homesick.  But that wasn’t his home.  Thomas Wolfe had a famous novel published posthumously entitled “You Can’t Go Home Again.”  It was about an author who wrote a best-selling novel based on his hometown, but the residents of the town were very unhappy with how he portrayed them, hence the title.  Lot’s wife looked back longingly as she left Sodom and was turned into a pillar of salt (Lot’s last name was Morton, by the way).  As a believer, you have begun a journey – to follow Christ.  We sometimes sing the song, “I Have Decided to Follow Jesus,” that includes the words, “no turning back.”  We can turn away from our beliefs and live a life that is not God-honoring.  That’s called sin and we all sin.  The question is do we repent and get back on the path.

And indeed if they had been thinking of that country from which they went out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He has prepared a city for them. Hebrews 11:15-16

These people desired a better country and the writer names it – Heaven.  God honors their faith and is preparing a place for them, and us, to dwell.  So what is Heaven like?  This other country? We don’t know so I’ll simply say that it will be pure joy because we will be directly in God’s presence and we will experience the fullness of his love.  We will fellowship with the entire body of believers and I believe we will continue to grow and learn and work for God.  There are various visions of Heaven in Revelation we can consider, but since we’re talking promises, I’ll simply refer to Jesus’ words John 14:1-3.

Ultimate Citizenship

Brethren, join in following my example, and observe those who walk according to the pattern you have in us. For many walk, of whom I often told you, and now tell you even weeping, that they are enemies of the cross of Christ, whose end is destruction, whose god is their appetite, and whose glory is in their shame, who set their minds on earthly things. For our citizenship is in heaven, from which also we eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ; who will transform the body of our humble state into conformity with the body of His glory, by the exertion of the power that He has even to subject all things to Himself. Philippians 3:17-21

Paul tells us what ultimate citizenship looks like.  One of Aerosmith’s hits was “Walk This Way.” That could be Paul’s theme here:  walk like you see me walk.  He is not bragging but striving to be faithful in his walk with God.  In verse 18, unfortunately, we find that Paul encountered some folks who were not walking with the Lord, but were, in fact, enemies of the cross.  What a horrible name for someone – enemy of the cross!  The god of these enemies is actually their appetite (arrogance, ego) which led to destruction.  The glory they felt they achieved was actually their shame because “they set their mind on earthly things.”  In the King James version of the Bible we read that their god was their bellies, i.e., they were focused on filling their needs. F.B. Meyer described these men thusly: “There is no chapel in their life.  It is all kitchen.”  Paul related this with weeping because of the harm they were bringing to the churches; because of the lives they ruined and the people they turned from God.  These people are the antithesis of the faithful ones in Hebrews.  They embraced the world and did not trust God and his promises.

Paul also looks toward Heaven.  That is where our citizenship lies.  Philippi was a colony of Rome, which meant its citizens were considered Roman citizens.  Moffat translates the idea of citizenship in Heaven as, “But we are a colony of Heaven.”  We are all citizens of earthly governments and the Scriptures tell us we are to be good citizens.  But our loyalty, allegiance belongs to God.

I was in Laredo, Texas recently.  My hotel backed up to the Rio Grande. I went for a walk one evening and saw people streaming across the bridge in both directions, between Laredo and Nuevo Laredo.  I discovered that many people lived in one city and worked in the other.  In fact, many held dual citizenship as Americans and Mexicans.  The urban area is almost considered one city.  In a sense we are dual citizens holding citizenship here on earth and also in the kingdom of God.  There is tension in this: we live in this world while representing another.

Paul has great expectations: In verse 20 he doesn’t mean we are still waiting for our Savior – he’s already completed the saving work.  We are eagerly awaiting what the Savior will do when we join him, which we see in verse 21 – He will transform us into glorious new bodies.  He has the power to do this and anything and everything.

Citizens of Heaven impacting Earth

As citizens of heaven God expects us to have an impact on the world we live in.  In Matthew 5:14-16 Jesus said, “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.”  We cannot isolate ourselves from the world.  We must meet people where they are.  We need to be more intentional as individuals and as churches in going out.  What risk is there in staying quiet and keeping to ourselves?  German pastor Martin Niemoller wrote this in October of 1945 based on the fact that he initially ignored the Nazis and their activities:

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out
because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out –
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out –
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me – and there was no one left to speak for me.

In Matthew 25, Jesus gives us instruction for living as citizens of the world and citizens of His kingdom. It is the well-known passage that begins “For I was hungry…” We are to minister in His name as we walk through the world.  How can we not do the work of ministry? Don’t think of ministry as a big exalted word.  “A cup of cold water” given in His name is ministry. Ministry is meeting people and serving them, sharing with them, loving them.  Your American citizenship comes with certain rights, protections and responsibilities.  Your heavenly citizenship comes with great responsibility.

 Many years ago I stood in front of a crusty  Coast Guard Master Chief and said these words: I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.

Sometime later I stood in front of a crusty Admiral and said these words: I, having been appointed an officer in the Coast Guard of the United States, as indicated above in the grade of Ensign, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservations or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office upon which I am about to enter; So help me God.”

Years before, my father stood over me and said these words:  I baptize you my son in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

The oaths were important to me and governed my behavior for 25 years of my life.  But the words of my father and pastor, though not an oath, were symbolic of the promise I made to Jesus when I accepted him as my Savior, and of His promises to me.  Those words represent an eternal impact.

At present, we do not have to make a choice between being citizens of whatever city, county, state or country we live in and being citizens of Heaven.  But many of our brothers and sisters around the world are faced with that choice.  We often hear it said, “I know my rights!”  Here are your rights:  “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God;” and “The wages of sin is death.”  But here is your privilege: “But the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”  If you are an American, I encourage you to be a good American and citizen; to be a patriot.  But God commands your ultimate allegiance as a citizen of His kingdom.

Jesus did two amazing things in a story recorded in Mark 2:  He healed a paralyzed man and He forgave his sins.  Jaded believers might say, “Yeah, that’s what Jesus does.”  Those who don’t believe might say, “Nice story.  Maybe he healed, maybe he didn’t, but no one needs forgiveness of sins – there’s no such thing as sin.”  Either point of view shows believers how truly amazing Jesus’ actions were.

A paralyzed man: he could do nothing for himself and was completely dependent upon family and friends to meet even his most basic needs.  I once saw a man with no arms at a gas station.  He had just come out of the restroom with a friend, who then lit a cigarette for the man with no arms and placed it in his mouth.  As I watched, I realized what else the friend must have done for the man in the preceding moments.  To be able to be that kind of servant was truly amazing (but then to light up for him – really?).  The paralyzed man in Mark 2 had friends, too: men who were willing to do whatever it took to seek healing for their friend. I have heard sermons that focus on the friends and their actions as an example to us to do whatever we can to bring people to Jesus – good point.

But when Jesus encountered the man, he did not initially address his physical need.  Mark 2:5 notes, “And Jesus seeing their faith said to the paralytic, ‘Son, your sins are forgiven.’”  Jesus responded to the faith of the man and his friends and met the man’s greatest need – to be forgiven as a sinner.  Only after Jesus sensed the lack of faith in the Pharisees did he heal the man: “’Why are you reasoning about these things in your hearts?  Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven;’ or to say, ‘Get up, and pick up your pallet and walk?’  But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins’ – He said to the paralytic, ‘I say to you, get up, pick up your pallet and go home.’”  Jesus met the greater need first, then to display His authority, met the lesser need.

I don’t believe Jesus was tying the need for forgiveness of sin to the need for healing, i.e., the man’s paralysis was caused by his sin.  I simply believe Jesus’ most natural response to faith was to forgive.  God responds to our faith and He wants to forgive us.  Remember, God created us in His image to be in a perfect relationship with Him.  He wants to have that relationship back and that requires our faith and confession and His forgiveness … as often as necessary.

We tend to focus on the lesser needs in our lives.  If I became paralyzed, or someone I love did, I would be crying and pleading for healing.  Of course, I would consider that to be an incredibly great need.  But paralysis is an extreme; if I had an annoying cold, I would still be asking for healing.  There is nothing wrong with asking God for healing, but are we overlooking the greater need?  How often does our sin drive us to fall on our knees before a righteous God and plead for forgiveness?  Too often our prayers for forgiveness are really prayers of acknowledgment.  When we say, “Lord, please forgive me,” we’re really saying, “Yep, I messed up – sorry about that.”  Isaiah, faced with the glory of God, could only say, “Woe is me, for I am ruined! Because I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts.”  God’s response to this recognition of sin was to send and angel to touch Isaiah’s lips with a burning coal from the altar in front of the Lord who said, “Behold, this has touched your lips; and your iniquity is taken away and your sin is forgiven.”  (Isaiah 6:5-7)  Isaiah’s paramount need was to be cleansed and forgiven and he knew it.  I don’t know that I always know this at a deep, passionate level.

We still need healing, but more than just physical healing.  Many of us are paralyzed.  We are paralyzed when we need to take action to make a decision; paralyzed when we need to seek freedom from an addiction; paralyzed when we need to share the good news with others; paralyzed when we need to help when we see those who need help.  This is healing, too.  We need to “pick up our pallets” and take steps.

As for those who don’t believe in sin, that’s probably a topic for another post, or several posts.  I would guess that even those who say there is no sin believe in moral law at some level, e.g., it is nearly universally accepted that it is wrong to kill and wrong to steal.  If something is considered bad, then it implies that there is good.  If there is good and bad, that is moral law, and that implies a lawgiver.  And doing something bad shows a need for forgiveness.  Unfortunately, in our fallen world, many people don’t recognized the need for forgiveness from either vantage point: to forgive or to be forgiven.  Which takes us back to the need for healing.

I am grateful for this story from Mark’s gospel.  It reminds me that no matter how unfair the world seems, how awful our problems are, and how different our perspective is from God’s, God knows what we truly need and offers it to us.  It doesn’t necessarily erase the problems – Jesus didn’t have to heal the paralytic – but it meets the greatest need we have.  “Son, your sins are forgiven” – powerful words, indeed.

I was traveling for my job recently and caught an Uber to get from the airport to my company’s local office.  The Uber driver was roughly my age, a sports fan, and talkative without being annoying so we had a pretty good conversation.  We covered everything from New Orleans cuisine to college football to church.  He told me about his son who would be graduating soon from Army Boot Camp.  His son had wanted to join the Marine Corps, but apparently a tattoo on his arm was “too visible.”  I haven’t looked into Marine regulations to verify, but the rules seem to be a bit stricter for potential Marines than for potential soldiers.

The tattoo read “Only God can judge me.”  In an effort to become one of the few and the proud, this young man went to an ink shop to have the tattoo altered so it would meet Marine Corps requirements.  To that end, he had the “me” removed so that the tattoo read, “Only God can judge.”  For some reason, even after this, he passed on the Marine Corps and enlisted in the Army.

I arrived at the local office where a co-worker and I were meeting with employees individually to discuss their interests and futures.  There was a good chance their positions would be eliminated in six months or so, and we were discussing possibilities with them.  One of the employees was a man in his late 20’s who was a very good employee – a keeper.  He had a tattoo barely visible under his shirt sleeve (probably not Marine Corps material).  My co-worker asked what the tattoo was.  The young man pulled up his sleeve to reveal a rocky cave entrance with a devil standing beside the opening.  Around the picture were the words, “Let my name be feared at the Gates of Hell.”  He said he obtained the tattoo in honor of his father who had died some months before.

While I’m not the brightest guy in the world at making connections, encountering these two tattoos within a few hours struck me as more than coincidental.  “Only God can judge me” is a favorite refrain in our world, the implication being that no one can tell me what to do; my life is my own to live.  The deceased rapper, Tupac, wrote a song and titled an album, Only God Can Judge Me.  I won’t stoop to share the lyrics with you.

But then the “me” gets removed from the tattoo.  Does that change anything – going from “only God can judge me” to “only God can judge?”  I think so.  “Only God can judge me” carries a very individualistic message – it’s about me and you can’t judge me.  It’s my life and I can do what I want with it.  But when you state, “only God can judge,” it recognizes who God is and the authority He has.  James 4:12 tells us, “There is only one Lawgiver and Judge, the One who is able to save and to destroy.”  That is power – only God can save and only God can destroy.

It must have been painful to have the “me” removed from the tattoo.  It’s just as painful, but necessary, to have the “me” has to be removed from our lives.  While we are made in the image of God and valuable to Him as individuals, our individualism pales in comparison to His power and glory.  We must realize that, though He loves us, the grand story is not about us, but about Him and His love.  Only in His love and grace do our lives find meaning.

“Let my name be feared at the Gates of Hell.”  I don’t have a tattoo, but if I did, I can’t imagine having this phrase etched on my body, especially in memory of someone I loved.  I understand the sentiment behind it – his father was gone, and he wanted to remember him as a bad dude – someone who could give the devil all he could handle.  This raises some interesting questions.  Of whom is the devil afraid?  Would he be afraid of a man?  What would make him afraid of a man?

It’s safe to say the devil trembles at the name of God (James 2:19), but how does one of us make him feel? William Cowper wrote, “Satan trembles when he sees the weakest saint upon their knees.”  On the other hand, AW Tozer wrote, “It is not the praying sheep that Satan fears, but the presence of the Shepherd.”  We bear the image of God and Satan certainly does not like that, but does he fear us?  I think he fears what we can accomplish when we are obedient to God and doing His work.  I think he fears the power of prayer because it is direct communication with God.  But I don’t think he fears little ole me, one puny human without any power of his own.  But I have power and I have the presence of God in me because the Holy Spirit has taken up residence in me.  So, I believe Satan does fear a believer because when he encounters a believer, he is encountering the very presence of God.  But, again, the “me” needs to be removed.  It is not my name that is feared at the gates of Hell, but the name of the Lord God.

Here’s a tattoo for me: “Only God can judge, and His name is to be feared everywhere.”  But even better, “Only God can love me with the overwhelming love that is His very essence (1 John 4:8), and, while I need to fear and respect the Lord because of His power and righteousness, I need not live in fear because of His love.“ It’s a longer tattoo but a stronger message.  If I ever get this tattoo it will raise a lot of eyebrows; but I don’t care.  After all, you can’t judge me…

Military homecomings are wonderful!  We’ve all seen video clips of families greeting their returning soldier, sailor, airman,  Marine or Coastie.  They occur at airports, when ships dock, and when a unit walks down the ramp of a cargo plane; or they can be total surprises at a spouse’s workplace or a child’s school.  I’ve experienced several homecomings as a Coastie returning home after a deployment or mobilization.  I don’t have the words to describe what I felt when I first saw Michele and my daughters after months of separation.

But not everyone comes home.  Some men and women never experienced those indescribable feelings of seeing their loved ones; and their families, rather than knowing the joy of reunion, live with the pain of loss for the span of their lives.  As the song says (the original quotation is attributed to a Korean War vet, Howard William Osterkamp), “All gave some, some gave all.”  This is why we have a holiday known as Memorial Day – to recognize and remember that some Americans gave their lives in service to their country.

Jesus said, “Greater love has no on than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.” (John 5:13).  This was spoken to the disciples in the context of teaching them to trust and abide in Him and to love one another.  If we truly love one another with this kind of love, the Greek agape love, sacrifice comes naturally.   Some fallen warriors were casualties of battle who would claim there was nothing heroic about their deaths.  Others willingly sacrificed themselves that their comrades might live, or at least have a chance to live.  Is this bravery?  Is it love?  Does it matter?  Whatever we call it a life was given in service and someone did not come home.

However, there is a more important Memorial  Day we celebrate earlier in the Spring that is all about love:  Good Friday.  It truly represents the greatest love – a love that forgives and redeems.  It required the sacrifice of an innocent man, the only truly innocent and perfect man who was also God.  His sacrifice did save lives. His sacrifice paid the price for sins that we could not pay.  Think of the most amazing story of personal bravery and sacrifice you’ve ever heard and it pales in comparison to what Jesus did for us on Good Friday.

We are right to honor those who died in service.  We are right to remember them and their families and we owe them a debt of gratitude that simply cannot be repaid.  However, as you remember these men and women and their families on Memorial Day, do not forget the one who made the ultimate sacrifice and showed the greatest love.

The names of four dead men can be found in the contacts list on my phone.

Dead Man 1 (DM1)

DM1 was an active member of a church I joined who was heading up the Men’s Ministry. I didn’t know him well but, in agreeing to lead an accountability group, we spoke and corresponded. He thanked me for my willingness to jump in and handle a certain situation. Shortly after this he was diagnosed with cancer. Over the next couple of years his condition worsened, and he eventually died leaving a wife and two children. I attended his funeral and was touched by the outpouring of love for this man and his family. Although I was not close to him, I have kept his contact information as a reminder that we live in a fallen world and that bad things do happen to people who follow the Lord; that none of us is spared from suffering; and that I am so very thankful I was allowed to raise my children.

Dead Man 2 (DM2)

DM2 is my brother-in-law, Jim. He died last summer leaving a wife and two adult sons who, of course, miss him terribly. While we never lived close enough to one another to do much together, our families were often together for holidays and vacations. We visited Jim and his family in Atlanta, Charleston and the Tennessee mountains. Jim was warm, funny and generous. He knew Jesus. He showed tremendous love and devotion in the way he cared for his wife. I last saw Jim at my oldest daughter’s wedding. While he wasn’t in great health, there was no inkling he had cancer. Unfortunately, he was diagnosed shortly after that and was dead within two months. I miss Jim and am grateful for having known him and being part of his extended family. I keep his contact info for two reasons, one very practical and one very sentimental: 1) his wife, my wife’s sister, uses his phone now; and 2) he’s family – it makes me smile to see his name on my phone and I remember him fondly and know I will smile with him again.

Dead Man 3 (DM3)

DM3 was someone I served with in the Coast Guard. As a reservist, I was mobilized and served on the command staff of a Naval Coastal Warfare squadron overseas (Yes, the Navy is dependent on Coast Guard assistance!). DM3 was an active duty Coastie who volunteered to deploy, and he joined me and another man as the three Coasties on the Navy staff. We bonded instantly and became close. I had several conversations with him about faith and invited him to chapel services. He always politely refused but assured me he had been raised as a church-goer and was a believer – I was never sure, though. When we demobilized we promised to stay in touch, and we did. I had my demobilization physical at his command and we had a good visit and talk. I prayed for him off and on. We emailed back and forth and, as these things go, the emails became more infrequent, but we stayed in touch every few months. I started a new job and emailed my updated contact info to a number of people, including DM3. I didn’t hear back from him, but almost immediately heard back from the other Coastie on the staff. His email began, “I’m so glad you reached out because I lost your contact info. After DM3 died ….” I stopped reading, stunned. I read and reread those words, “After DM3 died…” My friend had died a couple of months before and I hadn’t heard.

I was in total shock. He was young, intelligent and personable. He was a Yeoman, which is an administrative rating, but he volunteered for any number of things; for example, he sent me a picture of him rappelling from a helicopter to a small boat as part of an airborne boarding crew. I couldn’t believe he was gone. I called the other Coastie who had attended the funeral and he filled me in on some details. I spoke to DM3’s supervisor, a Senior Chief, who rounded out the story. DM3 had been at a party, drunk a bit too much, drove home to his condo and pulled into the garage. He passed out with the car running and died from the fumes. The Senior Chief was adamant that it was not a suicide, but a case of carelessness.

While we can never know another’s heart, I realized that I didn’t know where DM3 was in eternity. I have shed tears over that. Perhaps one more conversation, one more phone call, one more email may have provided a catalyst to bring him to God’s grace. The day I found out about his death, I sent an email to a number of men in my church telling them the story and pleading with them to share the good news with those they cared for. I keep DM3’s contact information to remind me that we are never promised time; that we must always be ready to share the gospel; and that sometimes those we love will not know Jesus.

Dead Man 4 (DM4)

DM4 is my dad. He died over five years ago at the age of 85, five years after my mother passed. My dad had Parkinson’s disease and spent the last two years of his life in a nursing home. He didn’t like me very much after that decision was made, but we simply couldn’t provide the care he needed after heart surgery and suffering with Parkinson’s. It was a hard decision, but we both reconciled to it as time passed.

Dad was a pastor. Someone once told me that he had met a lot of preachers, but that my dad was truly a pastor – a man who shepherded and cared for his flock. My grandfather was an alcoholic and he and my grandmother divorced when Dad was four (My grandfather did sober up and we had a good relationship with him). Several years later my grandmother married again. I didn’t know about this marriage until I was about twelve years old and my grandmother mentioned the name of a man I had never heard before, referencing his death. I asked my dad about this man, but he would not say much. Over the years, I gathered that he was also an alcoholic, and probably a mean drunk. I do know those were unhappy years for my dad before my grandmother eventually divorced that man.

Both my parents came from broken homes and I think it made them love my brother and I more fiercely; they did not want to repeat the mistakes of their parents. I doubted neither their love nor their faith. I am more than grateful for being raised in a household that loved Jesus and loved one another, and for a father who surrendered his life to serve the Lord. I keep my father’s contact info simply because he’s my dad and I love him, and I could not bear to delete it.

I called Dad’s number as I was writing this and found, as expected, that it was disconnected. I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be disconnected, or if I wanted someone else to use the number. That would be symbolic that the world keeps turning, that things keep going when we’re gone.

Four dead men. I am thankful that I will meet at least three of them again. I am broken-hearted that I may not meet the fourth. I treasure the memories of and the lessons learned from each of these men and their deaths. I am eternally grateful that death is not a finality for those that love the Lord.

When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome, bought spices, so that they might come and anoint Him.  Very early on the first day of the week, they came to the tomb when the sun had risen. They were saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance of the tomb?”  Looking up, they saw that the stone had been rolled away, although it was extremely large. Entering the tomb, they saw a young man sitting at the right, wearing a white robe; and they were amazed. And he said to them, “Do not be amazed; you are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who has been crucified. He has risen; He is not here; behold, here is the place where they laid Him. But go, tell His disciples and Peter, ‘He is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see Him, just as He told you.’” Mark 16:1-7

Details surrounding the resurrection are shared in all four gospels, and in each the angel tells the women to tell the disciples that Jesus is risen and will meet them in Galilee.  But in the gospel of Mark we find the words, “tell His disciples and Peter.”  Peter was still a disciple.  He hadn’t been kicked off the team.  Why does Mark add “and Peter?”

It is traditionally accepted that John Mark wrote the gospel bearing his name, and he wrote it based on what he was told by Peter, primarily through Peter’s preaching to the early church.  Mark is the shortest and oldest of the gospels and was used as a resource for Matthew and Luke, neither of whom add “and Peter,” but seem to consider Peter to still be a fully functioning disciple.  But because Mark was relating Peter’s story he added the words “and Peter.”

My intent is not to argue Biblical accuracy and why two gospels read one way and one reads another.  These are four different accounts that stress different things to different audiences.  I believe the angel said the words, “the disciples and Peter” because it says so in Mark.  I believe Matthew and Luke could have certainly shortened to “the disciples” because that included all eleven.  What fascinates me is that Mark heard Peter’s telling of the story and he wrote it down exactly as he heard it and as the angel said it.  Obviously, it was very significant to Peter.

Back up a few days in the gospel account.  At the Last Supper, Peter told Jesus he would never betray Him.  Jesus told Peter the chilling words that Peter would deny his Master three times that night.  Of course, Peter did just that and in a big way.  We find in Luke 22:61 that Jesus was in the courtyard and His eyes met Peter’s after the last denial.  What a devastating moment for Peter!

Fast forward to post-Resurrection accounts.   We read in Luke 24:34 and 1 Corinthians 15:5 that Jesus appeared to Peter individually.  We know nothing more about this meeting than it occurred.  What a moment it must have been!  I imagine Peter sobbing and falling at Jesus’ feet.  I imagine the love in Jesus’ eyes and His tenderness in addressing Peter.  Peter knew his sin; Jesus knew Peter’s sin; yet Jesus met Peter individually to begin the healing process that Peter needed.

We also know that Jesus pulled Peter aside on the shores of the Sea of Galilee to question him about his love for Jesus three times.  Peter obviously needed restoration and he needed it directly from Jesus.  After denying Jesus in His hour of need, Peter would have been crushed.  He might have never recovered from the guilt and depression.  Jesus wouldn’t allow that to happen.  But I’m certain Peter was squirming on the lake shore that morning.

Many of us either shake our heads at Peter or identify with him, or both.  He was passionate and impetuous.  He was bold, and he was scared.  I understand why God would want to provide reassurance to Peter through the angel’s message.  Rather than singling out Peter to embarrass him (Oh, he’s not really a disciple after what he did, but tell him, anyway.), I believe the message was meant to encourage and reassure him (You are still a disciple, Peter.  You are loved.)  Peter needed that … he desperately needed that.

I desperately need that, too.  That’s why I love “and Peter.”  I am a disciple of Jesus.  And while I was not meant to meet the risen Lord in Galilee, I am meant to encounter Him every day.  So I can easily relate to, “Go, tell His disciples and Jon..”  I fail.  I deny Jesus, perhaps not as dramatically as Peter did, but in so many little ways, and sometimes big ways.  I need assurance and restoration and to know that I am loved.  I am so thankful for Peter and his mess-ups and for his restoration and ministry, because it lets me know that I can be forgiven for my mess-ups, can be restored, and can continue to serve my Lord.

Two little words that bring such hope: “… and Peter.”