New Blog! Come on over!

WELCOME BACK!

If you used to follow my blog and noticed I haven't posted much, I invite you over to my new site: Contemplations. There you'll get new articles several times a week, plus updates on my new books. Follow Contemplationsto be notified of recent posts! Come on over.

CONTEMPLATIONS

THE LEGACY

Hop over to Amazon.com to check out my new novel The Legacy. Here's a preview:


"My mother died the day I was born and my father hasn't forgiven either of us." So summarizes the dismal childhood of Sara Purvis, growing up in Lonely Flats, Oklahoma, in the 1960's and '70's. Terrified of her alcoholic father, she is gripped with the conviction that if she could only find out why her mother abandoned her, life would make sense. That passion drove her to people, places, and dangers she would never have encountered without such a quest. But it is in the search for answers, she discovers her mother's legacy.



The Legacy

Whatcha Got?

“I was afraid I would lose your money, so I hid it in the earth. Look, here is your money back.” Matthew 25:25

He stood trembling, knees knocking, a lump in his throat the size of an egg. He clutched the single gold nugget his master had entrusted to him and waited his turn. He still had it! He’d checked on it every day in its hiding place under the steps, fearful someone might steal it or he might lose it. But here it was and he hoped his master would be pleased. But fear rose in his chest as he listened to his master praise his fellow servants. They’d taken chances, invested their sums, and the master was rewarding them. They each had piles of gold in front of them and suddenly his single nugget looked like the enemy.

In Jesus’ parable, the amount each servant received was irrelevant. Jesus pointed out that the master expected equal dedication, not equal results. “I’m only a mechanic,” one servant might say. “I fix trucks and go home. I can’t do anything for God.” “I’m only a teacher,” another might say. “I’m afraid to talk about Jesus. I might get fired.” “I’m only a mom…a bus driver…a CEO…” When we look at our single gold nugget, we can be tempted to discount it as unworthy of investment. But when we remember that it belongs to the Master, we realize we do not have the option of burying it under the steps. He entrusted it to us and expects us to invest it so that when He returns, He can say to us proudly, “Well done, faithful servant!”

Final Thought:  When Jesus returns, will He be able to say to you, “Well done, faithful servant?”

.

Who's The Boss?

A nobleman…called ten servants and divided among them ten pounds of silver, saying: “Invest this for me while I am gone.” But his people hated him and said, “We do not want him to be our king.”  Luke 19:12-15

“You’re not the boss of me!” an angry three-year-old shouts when parents give unpleasant instruction. “You’re not the boss of me!” we whisper to God as we dig in our heels and choose sin anyway. Like the people in Jesus’ parable, we do not want Him to be our king—but we do want His blessings. So we invent a new “Jesus” who won’t disagree with us. This “Jesus” doesn’t try to be the boss of us. With this “Jesus” we can enjoy mushy worship songs, repost inspirational tweets, and pep ourselves up with Bible verses carefully selected to support our opinions. This fake “Jesus” does not require us to give an account of our lives; He is merely a cheerleader on the sidelines telling us we’re awesome while we do exactly what we want to do. This idea is not very original, but since it works so well, Satan keeps using it. That’s his voice hissing: “God’s not the boss of you.”

Jesus being the “boss of us” is the whole point. That’s what salvation is all about. When we stand before Him, we will be judged by how well we let Him be the boss. When temptation beat on our door, was He the boss? When prosperity arrived and it was easier to enjoy ourselves than deny ourselves, was He the boss? (Luke 9:23) When inferiority threatened, when laziness beckoned, when suffering increased…was He the boss? We often want what Jesus offers but we don’t want Jesus. We don’t want a king to rule over us. We want to be king. But when we give an account, God will ask: “Who was the boss of you?”

.

Don't Show Up Empty-handed

She opened her eyes and caught her breath. The dazzling light, music, and laughter surrounded her and was part of her. Tangible joy pulsed through the air like an electrical charge. She glanced down at her white robe and then up again. It was real! Heaven was real and Jesus Himself was coming toward her with arms outstretched, dark nail holes in His hands, and a smile she couldn’t tear her eyes from. “My daughter! You’re here! I’ve been waiting for you. What did you bring me?”

Imagine that moment, but this time it’s YOU. Life on earth suddenly stopped and now you are in heaven. You know you are only here because Jesus paid the price you owed God. You trusted in Christ, gave your life to Him, and God counted that as sufficient, pronouncing you Not Guilty. But now Jesus is eager to hear how you spent your life after He saved you. He knows what He invested in you and expects a good return. What will you say? “Well, Lord, I had a good time…tried to be a good person…bought a nice car…kids’ in sports…vacations…” As you gaze in adoration at the One who gave His life for you, will you be ashamed of how little you did for Him? Will anyone be in heaven because of you? What fruit will you bring Him?

So then, each of us will give an account of ourselves to God.  Romans 14:12

Final Thought: Jesus gave it all for you. What are you doing for Him?

Prayer: Lord, this is a little scary. Will I be ashamed of how I spent my life when I stand before you? You’ve saved me by your mercy, but am I living in a way that makes you glad you did? Help me get ready for my accounting. In Jesus’ name, amen.

What Is Going On?

What is this? What’s going on in this current evangelical climate?

This movement calls itself Christianity and has retained some of the trappings, but it looks less and less like the New Testament and more and more like something our self-worshiping culture has invented. What takes place inside our proudly nondescript-looking buildings is veering sharply away from a cross-carrying message and embracing wholeheartedly the religion of self-esteem. We must FEEL good about God, or we aren’t satisfied. Unless we have a worship “experience,” we don’t think we’ve had church. So we’ve found a way to induce plenty of emotional surges we assume are spiritual. And if they’re not, who cares? We like them better anyway.

The largest church in America is pulling in the crowds with its continuous assurances that God thinks they’re all awesome. God's precious promises to His own are tossed to the masses as though they were written to anyone within the sound of the leader’s voice. Worship bands fill stadiums with people seeking these emotional surges, giving them what they want: shrieking guitars, thundering drum rolls, fog machines, and sensual voices designed to elicit a shiver of delight. Read the lyrics to one of those top “worship songs,” You Say by Lauren Daigle. Ask yourself: Who is being worshiped? “God” is mentioned once, in a whisper, and could just as easily have been omitted. This could be sung to a boyfriend, lover, mentor, or friend. 

How is this anything like the worship the Lord demands it in scripture?

What we are experiencing is not biblical Christianity and it can’t even be called a religion because the requirements for participants are few. Sunday mornings are aimed at pleasing the general public and making sure they come back. Coming back is the goal. As long as they come back, we’ve got a success story.

So what keeps them coming back? That’s the question that dominates staff meetings, drains the budget, and plagues ministry leaders. How do we get them to come back? Above all, we must avoid the mistake Jesus made when He boldly proclaimed: “Anyone who eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in him.” (John 6:56). Verse 66 then says, “Many of his disciples turned away and no longer followed Him.” 

Ooops! Did Jesus mess up? Should He have told them something they weren’t ready to hear? Maybe He would have benefited from a study in cultural relevance or a Church Growth conference. And the apostle Paul was downright insensitive. 

We certainly don’t want to make that mistake, so we pad our messages and our music with soft words that no one could object to. What we call “worship music” has now disintegrated into peppy lines with only vague references to a generic God who loves us and that’s it. We don’t want to drag out all His other attributes, because some of them make us uncomfortable. Song-writers are quietly replacing songs about the cross with lyrics that celebrate our feelings about it—and we scarcely notice the shift. As long as it’s got at least one half-reference to something biblical, we decide it is an acceptable song for worship. But the real goal for lyricists is this: Be sure this song makes the Billboard Top 100. And the real goal for worshipers is this: We wanna sing whatever's popular right now.

Songs about the love of God are wildly popular. Even unrepentant reprobates can croon about it with hands in the air, having a moment. Who could object to this theme: “God loves me. God pursues me. God does everything He can to find me so He gets to be with me. God’s love is amazing, universal, and requires nothing of me.” We jump in the river, slide over a waterfall, and sing about oceans, but who are we really worshiping? When Sunday morning devotion does not translate into Monday through Saturday living, we were never really worshiping God at all. We are worshiping a better version of ourselves.

Doctrine is a thing of the past. True study of scripture is too tedious for this smartphone generation, so we satisfy ourselves with inspirational tweets and favorite verses that don’t make us uncomfortable. One leading pastor is discouraging use of the Old Testament, claiming it is just too controversial for this generation. Above all, we must not make anyone uncomfortable. So meetings of the so-called church are ones any active homosexual could enjoy. Dating couples who had sex the night before can enjoy the chance to feel spiritual. Why would pedophiles, porn addicts, alcoholics, or the dishonest need to stay away? There is nothing in our services that would convict them in the slightest. Instead, they are assured that “nobody’s perfect” and “we’re all broken,” so join a life group and be one of us.

This is not the church. This is not Christianity. This is not biblical and this is not right. The freest nation in the world is knowingly shackling itself to the prison guard of public opinion. We are squandering the few days we have left to shout truth from the rooftops, choosing instead to murmur to our visitors that Jesus will make their lives better, so why not sign up. Nothing to lose. By the time we are legally silenced, will much in our services need to change? Who would object to the feel-good, watered-down, self-esteem building rallies we call worship services? I wonder if Jesus would even recognize what we call “church.”

Right with Whom?

The phrase “right with God” has received a lot of airtime in recent years. Unfortunately, it comes with its own new-and-improved definition. We truly are made right with God when we receive Jesus’ death and resurrection as full payment for the debt we owe God. But that receiving does not mean a mental agreement or a prayer of appreciation. It is a transfer of ownership. When we accept God’s offer of salvation, we agree to His terms, which means we are under new management (Galatians 2:20). Therefore, all choices from that moment on are to be in line with His owner’s manual, the Bible.

But the current church climate has decided to treat God’s instruction book as a list of suggestions, not commands for obedience. We’ve reinvented Jesus as some sort of buddy, sobriety partner, or coach…anything but Lord and King. As long as His ways coordinate with our desire for happiness, we’re glad to oblige.

But the thousands of martyrs through the years would have a different stance on that. They’ve watched their children sliced in half, their wives and sisters raped, their homes burned, and then faced torture and execution because they refused to compromise the words of God’s book. After reading about the centuries of horrible persecution Christians have suffered, it’s hard to be sympathetic with the west’s version of so-called Christianity that crumbles under any pressure that threatens something it wants.

It’s so much easier to set the Book aside, reinvent a more tolerant Jesus, and declare with joy and conviction that we are “right with God.” The woman who sleeps with her boyfriend every time he’s in town…the man who tosses his wife aside for a younger version...the alcoholic who compartmentalizes his addiction instead of attacking it...the couple seething with bitterness and unforgiveness...the teenager who parties every weekend like she’s Satan’s key apprentice…all declare with boldness that they know they are “right with God.” After all, that one worship song gives them goosebumps and they have Bibles on their nightstands.

The problem with this claim is that when the Holy Spirit moves into a repentant heart, He brings His convictions with Him. When one of His children moves willfully toward disobedience, He comes after us with a heavenly two by four. When we choose to disobey God’s clearly stated commands, Hebrews 12 is clear that our Father disciplines us in a way that jerks us back into line. If we are not being disciplined for willful sin, that passage states very intolerantly that we are not His.

At no time during our disobedience will God confirm to us that we are “right” with Him. That is not God’s voice that we hear whispering, “I understand. I only wants you to be happy.” Sadly, though, if we are not saturating ourselves in His word, then we cannot distinguish His voice from a thousand other deceiving voices. We harden that disobedient part of our hearts, pray to the reinvented Jesus, and bask in the warmth of Satan’s sunlamp.

So how can we know that we are truly “right with God” if we can’t rely on our feelings? We lay a transparency of our lives over His book and see if they match. Of course, there will be slight variations because we sin unintentionally every day. But if there are clear commands we are choosing to violate as an ongoing lifestyle, then we are not “right with God” no matter how warm and cozy we’ve decided we feel. The soulish thrill of sin is a clever substitute for the true peace of being right with God, and the less we study and apply the whole counsel of God (Acts 20:27), the less likely we are to recognize the deception.

For further study, see Romans 6, the book of 1 John, Matthew 7:13-27, and Luke 14.

.

Lie's We're Told #5

My life will never get better.  (Ruth 1)

Naomi had reached her breaking point. First, her husband died and then both her sons, leaving behind their destitute young widows. Naomi couldn’t even take care of herself. How in the world was she supposed to care for them too? So she packed up and moved home, back to her people. Back to the familiar. She had left her homeland full of promise, a glowing bride on the arm of her Prince Charming. She was returning a broken and bitter old woman who had given up on life. Everyone who met her heard about it. She had Bitter Brain Disease and left a trail of despair germs everywhere she went.

Because life had dealt harshly with Naomi, she adopted the mindset we often take: “This is how it will always be.” We want to write “The End” after a grueling season and grumble, “Well, that’s how that turned out.” But God reminds us that it is His book and it hasn’t “turned out” yet. That was only a chapter. Most good books have some scary chapters: hair-raising, nail-biting, what’s-gonna-happen page-turners that your nerves couldn’t stand if it was like that the whole way through. But it’s not. It’s only a couple of chapters. So it is with our lives. No matter how bad the season, we must never fall for the lie that our lives will never get better. With God, all things are possible. Second chances are the norm and new beginnings are in the next chapter.

Have you believed the lie that your life will never get better? 

You’re counting on a future without God.

.

Lies We're Told #4

 What will people think?  (Luke 1:26-38)

If anyone had the right to worry about what people might think, it was Mary. Her teenage dreams, good reputation, and dreamy fiancé faded into the background when the angel showed up and ruined everything. That’s how Mary could have looked at it. In order to say yes to God, she had to say no to her reputation and her plans for her own life. Nobody would believe her story. She wasn’t sure she believed it herself. Unmarried teenage virgins did not show up pregnant and expect people to understand. Yet, her answer to the angel would define eternity for herself and millions of others. She could worry about what people thought, or she could care only what God thought. Thankfully, Mary’s decision was not affected by what people might think.

We all face that decision in different ways. “I think God wants me to _____, but what will people think?” “I want to lift my hands in worship, but what will people think?” “I need to share Jesus with my coworker, but what will he think?” The fear of people’s opinions has robbed us of more blessing and growth than we probably realize. The truth is that people are not thinking about us at all. They’re too busy worrying what other people think about them. Mary rejected that lie in order to accept God’s assignment. She refused to let “What will people think?” cast a vote in her decision. We can do that too.

How big a role does “What will people think?” play in your decisions? Does it cause you to disobey God?

.

Lies We're Told #3

My worth is connected to how someone else feels about me.  (Genesis 29:31-34)

Leah had always felt invisible. Maybe a bit overweight, squinty eyes, an overbite, awkward. People looked right past her to gawk at her gorgeous little sister, Rachel. Ever since high heels replaced Barbie dolls, Rachel’s social calendar had been full and big sister had resigned herself to the fact that she would never be anyone’s first choice. But then dashing Jacob showed up and her heart turned inside out. Of course, Jacob was crazy about Rachel (who wasn’t?), but Dad pulled an underhanded switcheroo and Leah ended up in the bridal chamber instead. She prayed all night that marriage would change Jacob’s mind, but it didn’t. She was not who Jacob wanted. She was not who anyone wanted. Maybe she was even invisible to God.

But then she had a baby boy. “Surely my husband will love me now,” she thought. Nope. Three more babies, and each time hot tears stung Leah’s eyes as Jacob smiled at the baby, nodded to her, and walked back to Rachel. Leah had given him all she had—and it didn’t matter. She didn’t matter. Maybe you’ve been there. You rescued, surrendered your purity, or deadened your soul hoping that someone would make you feel valuable. “Surely they’ll love me now,” you thought, but it didn’t work. You gave all you had and it didn’t matter. But guess what Leah learned? When her fourth son was born, she named him Judah, which means “praise.” She’d stopped looking to Jacob for her worth. She realized that her value was not tied to someone else’s opinion. Her worth came from the One who created her. God saw her. He valued her. And that was all that mattered.

Who are you expecting to validate your worth? 

If it’s anyone other than God, they will let you down. 

.

Lies We're Told #2

My past disqualifies me.  (Joshua 2:1-21, 6:25; James 2:25)

All she’d known from men was rejection and abuse. As long as she could remember, she’d been selling her soul for a few coins. Life was hard, but her heart was harder, softened only by stories of Israel’s strange God. The idols of Jericho certainly couldn’t do miracles. They didn’t love, provide, and protect like the God of Israel did. Imagine being part of nation with a God like that! But their God didn’t want women like Rahab. A prostitute. A foreigner. He was holy. Perfect. She was who she was, and nothing could change that. Her course had been set before she was born, so she might as well stop dreaming.   

Then…a knock on her door. Men again, but these men were from Israel and they needed protection. Israel? Hope flickered inside Rahab’s heart. These men knew the God she’d heard about! How odd that of all the houses in Jericho they’d chosen hers. Could it be that their God saw her after all? In one courageous act of faith, Rahab the prostitute became Rahab the Israelite. Because she chose to trust that Israel’s God could change her future, her past crumbled with the walls of Jericho. When she joined God’s people, she left her old identity behind and joyfully accepted the one God gave her. In fact, she married a godly Israelite man, became the great-grandmother of King David, and God picked her to be an ancestor of Jesus Christ.

Your past no longer disqualifies you when you surrender to the God of Israel.

He changes your identity. 

Lies We're Told #1

I am not enough. (Genesis 3)

Eve laughed aloud because she liked the sound of it when it bounced off the cool blue water and echoed from the distant hills. She smiled at her reflection and marveled again at the goodness of her Creator. How magnificent He was to make her so much like Him! Another face appeared in the pool beside her and she felt an instant chill. This smile did not warm her as the Creator’s did. The serpentine face pressed against her hair and whispered, “You don’t quite have what it takes, my dear. God is holding out on you. You could be better than you are: prettier, smarter, wiser. Stick with me. I have what you need.” He set her up, knowing that if she listened, sin would rob her of the joy and purpose for which she was created.

Our first mother set the pace for us. Since the day she listened to the serpent, we’ve been falling for the same line. Our joy at all God has given us can plummet into despair with one hiss. We start to feel good about our lives, but then from the depths of hell comes a growl: “We’ll see about that.” Evil flips on a TV commercial that convinces us we’re stupid, ugly, poor, boring, or have bad breath. He directs us to Polly Perfect’s Facebook post showing off her kindergartner’s acceptance letter from Harvard or a tweet from a semi-friend bragging about his new yacht. Then our enemy offers his commentary: “You don’t have what it takes. God is holding out on you. Stick with me. I have what you need.” He sets us up, knowing that sin will rob us of joy and purpose. He blinds us to the truth that with Jesus as Lord of our lives, we are already more than enough (Romans 8:37). 

Who told you that you are not enough? 

That voice you hear in the back of your heart is not God’s. 

.

Get Off the List

Such were some of you; but you were washed…sanctified…

justified in the name of the Lord... 

1 Corinthians 6:11

This verse contains the biggest BUT in the Bible. Paul has just taken our inventory, listing those sins and identities that keep us out of the kingdom of God. Back up a couple of verses and read the list. The bad news is that we’re all somewhere on the list.  How many define you? “…the sexually immoral, adulterers, homosexuals, drunkards, thieves…”  It’s a thorough list and leaves very little to speculation. Just cleaning up our acts won’t erase those stains. Turning over a new leaf, doing religious activities, or trying to even up the score won’t get our names off the list. Because God is outside of time, every sin from our past and present follows us like a noxious cloud, the way dog doodoo clings to the bottom of a shoe. 

God doesn’t tolerate the stench.  

Then comes the good news—there is a BUT! Jesus came to this earth, lived the life we should have lived, pleased God in every way, and then offered Himself as payment for the debt we owe God. On the cross, He became everything on the list (2 Cor. 5:21; Col. 2:14). As the Son of God hung suspended between heaven and earth, God poured out on Him all the righteous wrath He has against our sin. When Jesus rose from the dead, He put the BUT in that verse. He offers to tear up the list for anyone who will surrender to His lordship. When we bow at the cross, Jesus’ sacrifice erases the stains of our past. In exchange, we get His righteousness credited to our account. 

We don’t have to stay on the bad list. There is a BUT.

Death to Life

…you were dead in your trespasses and sins, 

in which you formerly walked...  

Ephesians 2:1-2

“Hey, can you help me a minute?” called Mr. Branch, the funeral director. “I’m trying to get Mrs. Watkins to volunteer with the Salvation Army this afternoon and she’s not cooperating. Being rather stiff about it.” His assistant raised a brow. “Uh, boss? Mrs. Watkins is…um, dead. She died two days ago. That’s why she’s here. Are you okay?” Mr. Branch frowned at his “client” and dropped her back on the table. “Hm. Guess that would explain her resistance. In fact, that explains all of them. Couldn’t get a one to sign the charity pledge or come to Volunteer Day. Yeah, okay, maybe I should go back on my meds.”

As ridiculous as that sounds, we try to do the same thing that Mr. Branch did. We try to get our sinful flesh to align itself with God’s word and it can’t happen. The Bible says that we are dead before we surrender to Christ. Our self-worshiping natures have no ability to please God. We don’t even want to. Every time we prop ourselves up, teach our sinful selves a few manners, and try to act like Christians without the power of the Holy Spirit, it’s wasted effort. You cannot make a corpse act alive and you cannot give yourself a new spirit. Only Jesus can do that. He did not die on the cross to reform our flesh; He came to kill it. Until we are willing to die to our old lives, we cannot have His new one.

Jesus did not come to make bad people good; He came to make dead people alive.

Give Us Barabbas

But the whole crowd shouted, "Away with this man! Release Barabbas to us!"  

Luke 23:18

How quickly things change. Weren’t these the same people who had been shouting “Hosanna!” a few verses back? Some of them still had hoofprints on their cloaks from laying them in the street for the donkey to walk on. But they had exchanged palm branches for clubs and adoration for scorn. What kind of Messiah lets Himself be arrested and charged with insurrection? Was it true what the religious leaders were saying? Had this Rabbi committed blasphemy? Was He causing riots? What a fraud! They’d called Him a King, but now condemned Him as a criminal. They’d rather have that murdering Barabbas released than this Man who had dashed their hopes. What kind of people change allegiance so quickly? People like us.

“Give us Barabbas!” the Jews cried. “Give us health, wealth, and happiness!” we cry. Maybe there was a time when you welcomed Jesus as your King. Your eyes were opened to Who He was and what He had done for you. But you also welcomed a lot of extras with Him, expectations He did not meet. Maybe you assumed the Christian life would be a smooth ride through Easy Street, but instead, everything got worse. “Forget it,” you thought. “I’ll make myself happy the way I want to.” We’d rather have our rights and our comforts than a God who has dashed our hopes. So we slam the Bible, disconnect from God, and join the Jews in choosing Barabbas. Before we judge their betrayal too harshly, maybe we should first look in the mirror.

Remember This

“He isn't here! He is risen from the dead! Remember what he told you back in Galilee.”  Luke 24:6

You’re caught! You forgot something important, and because you forgot you look like an idiot. You should have remembered. It all makes sense now, but it’s too late and you’ve suffered a million agonies because you forgot. 

That’s what Jesus’ friends felt like when the angel gave them that look. “Remember what He told you…”  Facepalm. Of course Jesus wasn’t in the tomb! He’d spelled it out in capital letters a half-dozen times. He’d done everything except draw them pictures. Why hadn’t they caught on? Why hadn’t they believed Him? If they had remembered, they would have been saved days of unremitting grief.

We would also be saved years of unremitting grief if we remembered the things He’s told us. He wrote an entire Book so we wouldn’t forget, but we’re to busy to read it. We think we already know what’s in it. We substitute motivational memes for a thorough study of God’s word, and then wonder why we’re having such trouble living godly lives. We’re not much better than those first disciples who dashed to the tomb, expecting to find the body of Jesus. We dash off in the wrong directions trying to find the answers we need, when all along our Creator has written them down for us. Instead of remembering what He told us, we dash to the bar, the casino, or the TV to tell us how to handle life. 

If all you have time for is the Bible’s Cliff notes, remember this: He is alive. He loves you. He offers you eternal life with Him if you will repent. He has a plan for you. Don’t forget.

.

Looking for Life in All the Wrong Places

…the men said to them, "Why do you look for the living among the dead?”   Luke 24:5

-A junkie stares vacantly into space. His words are slurred but unmistakable: “This is livin’, man. Nobody tells me what to do.”

-A coed staggers from the frat house and the door slams shut. Her clothes are ripped and her body hurts in places it’s never hurt before. She straightens her torn skirt and slaps tears from her cheeks. “I only wanted to have fun,” she whispers.

-A man slumps at his desk and winces at the time. 2 am. Another 90-hour week. His wife is complaining and he barely sees his kids, but his stock has never looked so good. Money is the mistress he chose, so why does he feel so dead inside?

Humanity has always looked for the living among the dead. We seek satisfaction, purpose, and love in all the wrong places. We’re so sure we know where to find it that we refuse to consider anything else. Jesus’ friends did the same thing. They came to the graveyard looking for the dead body of a man. Imagine if they’d found it! Christianity would have ended that day. 

Instead, they discovered a living Savior, the Son of God, the Lifegiver who could not be confined to a tomb. When we try to find life among the world’s corpses, we end up with nothing but regrets. Christ’s resurrection guarantees new life for all who seek Him.  

In what ways have you looked for the living among the dead?

.

Do You Need Incentives?

A large crowd of Jews … came, not only because of him but also to see Lazarus…   John 12:9 

- “Next week, a celebrity will be speaking in our services sharing about life in Hollywood. You won’t want to miss it!”

 - “I might go to church if I could find one that started later, had a Starbucks, and made me feel good about myself.”

- “So, the Son of God is preaching. Hmm...didn’t He raise Lazarus from the dead? We want to see Lazarus!”

We would have fit right in with the crowd who wanted to see Lazarus. Jesus was about to sacrifice Himself for the sins of the world, yet the people had to have an extra incentive to seek Him. Nothing has changed. Jesus still isn’t enough to attract most crowds. (Consider the turnout for “just a prayer meeting.”) It was the same in Jesus’ day. John 6:66 is as relevant now as it was then. (Look it up). Human nature is always pushing to make the gospel man-centered. The fact that Almighty God took on human flesh and descended from heaven to be tortured to death for us is ho-hum. Our default attitude is often “Sure, God is great and what-not, but what’s in it for me? I’m too busy/tired/angry/distracted to seek Him—unless there’s a prize.” Even when Jesus was on earth healing people, performing miracles, and feeding crowds, few wanted Him for Himself. They only wanted what He could do for them. Like us, they craved the sensational. No magic tricks? No celebrities? No free stuff? No thanks.

Final Thought:  Check your heart. Is Jesus Himself enough to attract you or do you require extra incentives?

Prayer: Lord God, I’m convicted by how offensive this attitude must be to you. I take so lightly the huge sacrifice you made so that I could know you. Please forgive me and help me get to the place where I want Jesus for Himself. In His name, Amen. 

.

Cry "Hosanna!"

They took palm branches and went out to meet him, shouting, “Hosanna!”  John 12:13

In Hebrew, the cry “Hosanna!” means “save now” or “help me.” It was a cry of distress but also of intense happiness. The Jewish people were overjoyed that their Messiah had come at last. When He rode into town on a donkey, He was fulfilling the ancient prophesies written about Him (Zech. 9:9). Surely He would overthrow the oppressive Romans, punish the arrogant Pharisees, and establish His throne in Jerusalem. So they cheered with all their might, but those cheers turned to jeers in less than a week when He did not live up to their expectations. His deliverance was not what they had in mind so they turned away.

 “Help me, God!” we cry when the doctor says “No hope,” the IRS says “Pay up,” or the landlord says “Get out.” “Hosanna!” we cry to the Deliverer we imagine. Then the loved one dies, the debts stack up, or we lose our home and we assume our God failed us. This was not what we had in mind when we cried those words, so we turn away. We’re not much different from the crowd that lined the street that day. Maybe we too would have shouted “Crucify Him!” when He did not fulfill our expectations. God’s way of delivering us is often not what we had in mind because His ways are better. They’re eternal. God’s plan restores what sin destroyed. His deliverance is Kingdom-focused, not limited to earthly focus. “Hosanna!” was the right cry, but the wrong motivation. When we understand Who Jesus is and why He came, we can shout “Hosanna!” and trust His answers.

.

Every Little Thing

If anyone asks, 'Why are you untying that colt?' just say, 'The Lord needs it.'" Luke 19:31

Imagine this fictional scene in Israel that day…

Jedediah shuffled to the feed shed and set the bucket on the floor. His back protested as it did every time he bent over. Seven decades of hard work had taken a toll on his body. He stood in the shaft of sunlight filtering through the cracks and tried to feel hopeful. Yahweh had been good to him, but always this nagging sense of failure. Life was hard. Jed had been too busy providing for his family to do anything important for his God. He’d been faithful in all the ways he knew, but he would never match the Pharisees in spiritual significance—and they made sure he knew it. Jed couldn’t even read. He had no education, no title, no real skills. What could he possibly offer the God of Israel?

Three young men had approached his animal pens and were conversing loudly with each other. As a unit, they looked his way. One patted the back of Nellie, his best donkey, nodded to her colt, and then walked toward Jed, bowing in respect. “We’ve come on behalf of our Rabbi. Maybe you’ve heard of Him, Jesus of Nazareth? He has need of your donkey.” Jedediah’s heart skipped a beat and a dozen memories flooded his mind. The healer? The miracle worker? The forgiver of sins? He’d heard this Jesus teach in the synagogue and had never been the same. Jed offered the men a toothless grin. “Yes,” he said. “She’s yours.” As he watched them untie Nellie and lead her and her colt away, his heart swelled with gratitude. Of all the donkeys in Israel, the Messiah had chosen his. He lifted watery eyes to the sky. Maybe Yahweh had remembered him after all.

Jesus used a borrowed donkey to teach us that 

no one and nothing offered to God is insignificant to Him.

,