When the Rooster Crows

Jesus had full knowledge of him, and yet, His love for him remained unwavering. Can one truly fathom the magnitude of this? In verse 37, Peter boldly declared his unwavering commitment to follow Jesus, even if it meant laying down his very life. I firmly believe in Peter’s sincerity and his readiness to follow through on his words, even if he had to die.

But Jesus bought none of it, He knew all about Peter.

He poses a question to Peter–the type of question that had to have penetrated Peter’s interior bravado. It’s said someplace that “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Perhaps this is true here. But Jesus knew.

In contemplating the depth of understanding that someone truly possesses about us, it becomes a fascinating journey of knowing ourselves. How well does he truly know us? Is He aware of the moments of doubt that creep into our minds, the fears that grip our hearts, and the dreams we cherish in the depths of our souls?

It is as though he sees straight through our facades and masks, peering into the deepest recesses of our being, unearthing our vulnerabilities and laying them bare.

When he casts his gaze upon us, it is not merely a superficial glance. It’s a penetrating look that delves into the very essence of our existence. In those moments, it’s as though Jesus knows our every flaw and imperfection. We cannot hide from Him, for he perceives the intricate details of our lives with a clarity that surpasses even our own self-awareness.

He knows us.

Yet, in the midst of this profound understanding, Jesus’ love remains unwavering and unconditional. It’s a love that transcends our frailties and shortcomings. It extends beyond our misplaced zeal and faltering commitments. His love for us is not based on our performance or achievements but on the simple fact that we are his creation – flawed and imperfect, yet filled with potential and worth.

In His presence, we find solace and acceptance. We are reminded that we don’t have to strive to earn his love, for it is freely given. Our weaknesses do not diminish His heart, but rather, they provide an opportunity for his grace to shine through. It is in our moments of weakness that Jesus’ strength is made perfect, and His love becomes all the more real.

So, let us embrace the reality that we are known – truly known – by Someone who cares deeply for us. Let’s cast aside the illusion of perfection and allow ourselves to be seen in our sins and flaws. For it is in this authentic state that we can fully experience the depth of His love and find true healing and restoration.

As we journey through life, let’s grab a hold of the assurance that we are known by name, understood beyond measure, and loved unconditionally. And in that love, may we find the courage to embrace our true selves and live out our purpose with confidence and joy.

That both comforts and disturbs me, and I don’t really understand how or why He does it.

Have you heard the rooster?

Maybe that’s the way He’s going to teach you the depths of his love?

    C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

Boasting for Dummies

 

“Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches,”

“but let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the Lord who practices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth. For in these things I delight, declares the Lord.”

Jeremiah 9:23-24

There is bad boasting (v.23), and good boasting (v.24). When I think of someone who brags it’s almost always in a negative sense. 

Boasting is one way pride becomes visible, it’s the way we exaggerate or embellish our identity. We magnify ourselves, amplifying our achievements beyond what is reality. We must understand that all it really is is arrogance on display.

There is no room for braggarts in the Church.

You cannot sanctify boasting. It is pride that we vocalize and use to influence. We want to change another person’s perspective of you. We desperately want others to admire and think better of us. Some have postulated that it really is nothing more than masking insecurity. I think they’re right.

The Word differentiates between good and bad boasting.

The book of Jeremiah (9:23-24) does precisely that. It explains that what is worldly: wisdom, strength, money– is the wrong way of seeking recognition and importance. God’s people are to declare (brag) that they are in an intimate relationship with God.

We understand, we know that we have a loving connection with the Lord. We learn we can brag about Him.

I encourage you to become aware of how you conduct yourself in front of others. We seldom think of ourselves realistically. For many of us our lives are so intertwined with the false that we struggle with what is true.

God resists pride. (James 4:6.)

Jeremiah tells us we can choose to be different. We can swivel from the negative to the positive. We must quit exalting any attainment we have and instead boast that we now know God.

No longer do we strut, but now we choose to kneel.

“Humility is to make a right estimate of one’s self.” 

Charles Spurgeon

 

Everyone Could See Me

John 8:3-11

Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery, making her stand in the center. “Teacher,” they said to him, “this woman was caught in the act of committing adultery. In the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” They asked this to trap him, in order that they might have evidence to accuse him.

Jesus stooped down and started writing on the ground with his finger. When they persisted in questioning him, he stood up and said to them, “The one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her.” Then he stooped down again and continued writing on the ground. When they heard this, they left one by one, starting with the older men. Only he was left, with the woman in the center. 10 When Jesus stood up, he said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

11 “No one, Lord,” she answered.

I remember how Jesus defended me. I had been led through the crowds. The temple was filled with people who were there for the festival. It was a time of joy and feasting, but not for me. Definitely not for me.

The temple police escorted me to Jesus. I was now the focus of everyone’s attention. I felt dirty and ashamed. Standing there I could feel the lustful looks from the Pharisees; but there was something else as well, a look from Jesus that I had never seen before. There was compassion there, something quite extraordinary.

I’m ashamed, I committed adultery, I had slept with another man who wasn’t my husband.

I was to be stoned, to have hard rocks thrown at me by “holy” men. The Law had pronounced my guilt, and I knew how I was to be punished. And I deserved it. Yet the man who I slept with was never charged, he escaped and it was I that would be put to death. I didn’t blame him.

My shame was now public knowledge–everyone knew, the Pharisees made sure of that.

They only put me front and center to test Him.

These men who brought me had ulterior motives, they desperately hoped Jesus would stumble. I think they wanted to prove once and all to the crowds that were watching that Jesus really wasn’t the Messiah. They wanted to trap him.

Jesus seemed to understand the implications of this satanic effort.

Only Rome had the power of execution, and yet the Mosaic Law declared that I was to die. I stood waiting, expecting the worst. What else could I do?

It’s funny, but Jesus understood all of this. He seemed to look right through this theological trick, and He responded in a way that really shocked everyone. He never spoke, but bowed low and began to write in the dirt with his finger. Amidst their vicious accusations, they pressed their case.

Jesus bent down again, and he wrote some more.

I never knew what he wrote–but I had to believe it must have been something that revealed the sin in the hidden hearts of the men who were accusing me. In that moment, they quickly dropped the case against me. They all filed out, one by one, in dramatic fashion. I now stood alone with Jesus.

And Jesus looked directly at me.

I was still afraid, but it was strange, I felt a wave of peace as well. I quietly waited, not knowing what He was going to say to me. I suppose I half expected the worst.

Yes, he did confront me. But He wanted me to acknowledge that those accusing men had left. I saw it and understood. Jesus was asking me to believe that I was now really free. But then he wanted me to understand something that seemed quite crucial.

“Neither do I condemn you,” said Jesus. “Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”

That dear one was a powerful moment. He set me free with the understanding that He did not condemn me. But my freedom from judgement came with a catch–sort of. I knew then that my sin must be renounced. My freedom came with a price. But knowing I was completely released, meant I was now a free woman.

At that moment I understood completely.

“God pardons like a mother, who kisses the offense into everlasting forgiveness.”

    Henry Ward Beecher

God, Have Mercy On Me

Luke 18:9-14

“He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and looked down on everyone else: 10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee was standing and praying like this about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I’m not like other people—greedy, unrighteous, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of everything I get.’”

13 “But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even raise his eyes to heaven but kept striking his chest and saying, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner!’ 14 I tell you, this one went down to his house justified rather than the other, because everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

He despised others. As a Pharisee he prided himself as a holy person; he stood before God and congratulated himself. I believe that self-righteousness has many levels. You can be blatant and obvious about it, or it can be subtle and hidden. But we must understand that the father sees and knows. Notice the “we all” here in Isaiah 64:6

(Hmm. Is that what He sees? A menstrual rag? You got to be kidding!)

We often advance ourselves by demeaning those who struggle hard with their sin–there are those who see and somehow know that they’re superior. We don’t come out and say so; but we’ve arrived— but guess what— God (and scripture) tell us something radically different.

But we’re not dealing here with a hidden self-righteousness. The Pharisee truly believes that he is special. He stands and doesn’t kneel. He feels comfortable and confident in the holy presence of God Almighty. He’s not like the others. He is sure that he’s holy.

Look though, the tax-collector was being brutally honest.

He didn’t need anyone to tell him how sinful he was—he understood his own wickedness. Jesus’ story reveals God’s love for those who know that they’re twisted inside. Notice the heart of the tax-collector:

  • “He stood afar off” which showed his awareness of his separation from God.
  • “He wouldn’t even raise his eyes to heaven,” which declared his humility in the presence of God.
  • He kept “striking his chest,” which tells us of a deep pain over his sin against God.
  • He prayed, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner!’ This describes his desperate heart.

These both came to pray, but that is all they had in common.

The Pharisee came to the temple to show off his righteousness, the tax-collector out of a terrible despair. It strikes me that the text in verse 11 says the Pharisee “began praying to himself.” It seems that his prayer never really met God—he was proud and showy, doing the things God hates (Prov. 29:23).

Things really came obvious in verse 14. That’s the critical point of the entire story—“one went down to his house justified rather than the other.” Wow! What a statement. One professionally religious man, sure of his holiness, the other a sinful sinner, who came humble and broken. One showed off his faith—boasting with a legalistic swagger. The other desperate and desolate, completely undone.

But it was the tax-man who became righteous in the eyes of God.

Humility is the foundation of the kingdom of Jesus. In Matthew 5:3-4 makes a lot of sense—to be “poor in spirit” and to “mourn” are the bedrock of a Christian’s discipleship. To be justified (made right) was a gift. He didn’t try to earn it, and there wasn’t a probationary period. The tax-collector now became righteous; the Pharisee carried his sin.

God wants us to have a broken-heart. He rejects everything else. I suppose that the question is this: Do you mourn over your sin? 

Psalm 34:18

Art by Eugène Burnand

Repairing Your Nets

“Yet those who wait for the Lord
Will gain new strength;
They will mount up with wings like eagles,
They will run and not get tired,
They will walk and not become weary.”

Isaiah 40:31, NASB

The word “wait” used here is powerful. It’s an awesome word, never used casually in the Hebrew scriptures. It does not mean to be uncaring or idle. Sometimes we wait in line at the grocery store, or maybe we’re waiting for a phone call. We wait all the time, and often, we don’t even realize it.

The Hebrew word for ‘wait’ is special. It’s qāvâ. It means, ‘to bind together by twisting.’ It’s an active word.

It sometimes means to work like a fisherman repairing his nets to get them ready for tomorrow’s catch.

(There are always holes to mend after a long night’s efforts.)

When we wait spiritually, repairing our nets, the following should be used. Much of this can be done in prayer.

  • Calming ourselves, setting aside everything that doesn’t fit
  • Reading His word
  • Seeing His face
  • Hearing His voice
  • Keeping pace with Him, whether He moves (or doesn’t)

Fixing our nets is a cool way to describe our journey, right? Sometimes, when we think about waiting, we usually only think about it in English, and that can be annoying. It often stops us from truly understanding the true meaning of ‘wait’.

I strongly believe that the Holy Spirit wants us to understand the concept of being closely connected to Him. Sadly, we are often held back by our own definitions, rather than embracing the definitions found in God’s Word.

“The LORD is good to those who WAIT for him,
to the soul who seeks him.”

Psalm 27:14

Sometimes we are instructed by someone to “wait on the Lord.” This instruction can be challenging and we are unsure exactly how we should do it. It’s usual for us to simply show agreement through a smile and a nod. We never completely grasp the essence of that word.

He becomes my source of power that comes from waiting.

He is now the sturdy bond that I am intertwined with. (Maybe this is how He gives strength and power to His people?) We must listen to this, and the Lord is very enthusiastic about guiding us into this fresh form of closeness.

The promise in Isaiah 40:31 talks about receiving new strength, like an eagle’s wings, a holy energy. This verse is important for us, especially today; we need this kind of strength right now. We need to repair our nets as often as we can.

“Waiting for God is not laziness. Waiting for God is not going to sleep. Waiting for God is not the abandonment of effort. Waiting for God means, first, activity under command; second, readiness for any new command that may come; third, the ability to do nothing until the command is given.”

    G. Campbell Morgan

alaskabibleteacher.com

Our City of Refuge

“Unless we are thoroughly convinced that without Christ we are under the eternal curse of God, as the worst of His enemies, we shall never flee to Him for refuge.”

   John Owen

Buried in the Old Testament we discover the idea of the Cities of Refuge.

They speak profoundly to our situation and bring real hope to those who struggle. Six places of safety were given to protect those who accidentally killed another person— maybe an ax head flew and hit someone, and they died as a result.

God told Joshua to establish cities of protection where one could be safe from an avenger. There were six of them, three on the east side of the Jordan river, and three on the west. The cities covered Israel; each was spread out intentionally so they were always close.

That city became a place of asylum for those guilty of manslaughter.

As believers, we know that we’ve committed crimes against God and other people. The burden we carry threatens to undo us. Satan (and his minions) want to destroy us—and honestly, we deserve it. We are essentially spiritual ‘criminals’ who have hurt others and damaged ourselves in the process.

Outside the city, we’re vulnerable—but inside those walls we find safety.

Those who have killed others are protected. If we venture outside, we find our adversary who is waiting. Scripture tells us that we must stay cloistered there until the current high priest dies. Upon his death, we’re released and may leave the city walls.

For broken believers, the whole concept rings true.

The text speaks for itself, and there is spiritual logic in all of this. We see parallels here that speak to our condition. We’ve messed up big time. We also carry issues that the enemy can attack. Depression, bipolar, trauma, and even thoughts of committing suicide— can be a fundamental part of our lives.

I must tell you that safety is found only in the Savior.

Finding God and abiding in him is our place of safety. His walls protect us, Jesus is our high priest, who never dies; that means we need to stay with him, permanently. I like Hebrews 6:18, LB:

“Now all those who flee to him to save them can take new courage when they hear such assurances from God; now they can know without a doubt that he will give them the salvation he has promised them.”

For us especially, we often have problems with the doctrine of assurance of salvation. Our enemy works overtime to accuse us (Rev.12:10). We’re his targets and the lies of many demons assault us. We can, at times, wonder if we’re really saved. We wonder if we are really forgiven, and we doubt our salvation. Satan’s efforts can be constant and crippling.

I encourage you to think this over and pray about this.

Numbers 35 is a good place to start. That chapter is pretty clear. Look also at Exodus 21:13-14; Joshua 20:1-6; Deuteronomy 19:2-13.

Do You Belong in the Fellowship of Pain?

The hands of a leper

“In one of the villages, Jesus met a man with an advanced case of leprosy. When the man saw Jesus, he bowed with his face to the ground, begging to be healed. “Lord,” he said, “if you are willing, you can heal me and make me clean.”

Luke 5:12, NLT

The Bible text reveals a man who is desperate.  His leprosy has advanced; he is covered with it from ‘head-to-toe.’ He’s an outcast now, completely infected by something he never asked for; he is ‘unclean’ and completely without hope. There is no treatment, the doctors can do nothing.

The leper knows that without the touch of Jesus, he’ll never be healed. 

He knows it; he doesn’t need to be convinced by anyone over the complete hopelessness of his condition. He is lost. And yet he has heard that Jesus can do incredible miracles. Could it be that Jesus can heal his sickness? The leper comes and falls on his knees before the Lord, with his face in the dirt. This man is completely broken; he has no hope, except for Jesus. What else can he do?

Our diseases differ, but our lives have been completely changed by our pain. We all have this in common. 

Our pain and darkness vary. Some hurt more, some less. But we’ve all come to the place where we no longer have illusions of somehow being made whole. Whenever we meet, I think there should be a secret handshake or a password. We all share a comradeship— we’re all part of the same community.  We’re a broken club of tired and decidedly unclean misfits.

We belong to the fellowship of pain.

Lying in the dirt, we start to believe the unbelievable.  Our faith doesn’t activate our healing, as much as it simply guides us to Jesus. We can kneel, and perhaps that’s all we need to do. His presence drives away the fear, the doubt, and the pain. He’s come, and somehow we begin to hope for mercy. Only he can carry us through this.

In times past I’ve struggled with deep dark depression. I’ve had to take meds.  But when I come into Jesus’ presence, all my melancholy is driven out. He comes and I start to hope again.  Am I a stellar example of perfect discipleship?  I think not. But isn’t about us becoming “angels,” perhaps it’s more about us learning how to kneel, and to allow Jesus to touch our hearts.

You must do this, repeatedly.

“The power of the Church is not a parade of flawless people, but of a flawless Christ who embraces our flaws.”

“The Church is not made up of whole people, rather of the broken people who find wholeness in a Christ who was broken for us.”   

–Mike Yaconelli

alaskabibleteacher.com

Modern Idolatry, Plain and Simple

“The human heart is an idol factory.”

John Calvin

The definition of idolatry, according to Webster, is “the worship of idols or excessive devotion to, or reverence for some person or thing.” Idolatry is real, and it’s really a challenge to the believer, and it’s seldom mentioned today. In almost 40 years of following Jesus, I honestly can’t remember one real sermon on idolatry. That’s sad.

In fact, one of the first commandments given by God is in Exodus 20:3, “You shall have no other gods before me.” This has never been rescinded. It’s not obsolete or old-fashioned. The unredeemed human heart remains a factory of idolatry. Nothing has changed.

“An idol is anything that replaces the one, true God. The most prevalent form of idolatry in Bible times was the worship of images that were thought to embody the various pagan deities.”

So what is modern idolatry –what does a modern idol look like?

To help clear that up, Nicholas McDonald wrote a letter to you from the perspective of your very own, personal idol. (The last line is definitely a whopper.)

Hello. I am an idol.

Don’t be afraid, it’s just me. I notice you’re turned off by my name: “Idol.”

It’s okay. I get that a lot.

Allow me to rename myself.

I’m your family.

Your bank account.

Your sex life.

The people who accept you.

Your career.

Your self-image.

Your ideal spouse.

Your law-keeping.

I’m whatever you want me to be.

I’m what you think about while you drive on the freeway.

I’m your anxiety when you lay your head on the pillow.

I’m where you turn when you need comfort.

I’m what your future cannot live without.

When you lose me, you’re nothing.

When you have me, you’re the center of existence.

You look up to those who have me.

You look down on those who don’t.

You’re controlled by those who offer me.

You’re furious at those who keep you from me.

When I make a suggestion to you, you’re compelled.

When you cannot gratify me, I consume you.

No—I cannot see you, or hear you, or speak back to you.

But that’s what you like about me.

No—I am never quite what you think I am.

But that’s why you keep coming back.

And no—I don’t love you.

But I’m there for you, whenever you need me.

What am I?

I think you know by now.

You tell me.

I hope this helps. And I hope God gives you understanding.

alaskabibleteacher.com

How to Die Well

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

Psalm 23:4, ESV

“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.”

Psalm 116:15

“Death is like my car. It takes me where I want to go.” 

Pastor John Piper

Our generation simply doesn’t know how to die well.  There are many conflicting messages and attitudes which have steered us away from the reality of dying.  Much of it is the natural development of unbelief.  Our pop culture develops this and gives it momentum.  We are trying to convince ourselves that “death is impossible, my life will not end.”  But we’re escaping into a delusion. And it only intensifies as we age. 

We are running from what is real.

There is a Latin phrase,  Ars moriendi  (“The Art of Dying”) which the Church practiced in past generations.  In the past, Christians would be buried as close as possible to a Church building.  Many would be interred within the very walls of the Church.  The understanding was that the dead were part of the congregation.  That there was only a thin veil that stood between the living and the dead.  

The dead didn’t just vanish. They still live. We just don’t see them.

Our generation is confused.  We have forced death to wear a mask.  We insist on a significant camouflage to hide the reality of sickness and death.  No one really ever talks about it, and so no instructions are given on how to die well. So we don’t, and we die poorly–often in ICUs. We die sedated, separated and unable to process dying. We never help our families process it. 

For many, the fear of dying is intense and paralyzing.  

It’s time for the Church to step up and guide us to our next step.  Our pastors and elders have got to prepare us to die well.  It is a part of being a disciple.  It is discipleship, and dying is inclusive.  We need somebody to prepare us for the inevitable and the certainty that is approaching us.  I need someone that will help me face my own death.

You know what?  No one escapes.  

And the reality of that drives some of us mad, or addicted, or psychotic.  The idea of filling a casket up for forever is incomprehensible.  We cannot live with this sick idea of dying.  It disturbs us on the deepest level possible.  It is completely evil.

Psalm 23 has been pure comfort and healing for generations.  And it is an excellent starting point for us.  Verse 4 develops the idea of traversing death.  The writer has incredible insight of passing through death.  This verse alone is worth billions of dollars in gold.

Psalm 23 has been pure comfort and healing for generations.  And it is an excellent starting point for us.  Verse 4 develops the idea of traversing death.  The writer has incredible insight of passing through death. Psalm 23 has made me a very wealthy man.  His Word has become my rich treasure.

“Some day you will read in the papers that D.L. Moody of East Northfield, is dead. Don’t you believe a word of it! At that moment I shall be more alive than I am now; I shall have gone up higher, that is all, out of this old clay tenement into a house that is immortal- a body that death cannot touch, that sin cannot taint; a body fashioned like unto His glorious body.”

    D.L. Moody

Discipleship When It Gets Dark

  • We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed
  • perplexed, but not driven to despair
  • persecuted, but not forsaken
  • struck down, but not destroyed;

2 Corinthians 4:8-9, ESV

The issues we face can be formidable. Our relationships, our circumstances can present daunting obstacles to joyful Christlike living. We live out at times from unpleasant realities and less than ideal situations. We are broken believers who follow Jesus through our deadly minefields.

Struggling with mental illness is just as much a challenge as with any other handicap. The young man struggling with bipolar disorder or someone else who faces a clinical depression, may seem to be tangled up in something quite brutal and very hopeless. “Will I ever find normal again?

I know that struggle and at times it has ripped me apart. But I suppose the grinding hopelessness is the worst part of that.

I want to encourage you in this. The issues we face on a daily basis are hard. And we don’t minimize their complexity or diminish their bitterness. They can be awful. But the Holy Spirit is with you in the midst of your issues. That’s a promise.

There is a wisdom emanating from the fire. It’s only waiting for discovery. The flames can not destroy us when God shows up.

I believe that the constant presence of difficulty produces a faith and tenderness that can’t be just prayed for.

The most kind and gentle people are those who themselves have been afflicted.

Please understand we have a real challenge. We have to walk through the trials or tests, not around them. We see a mountain, and God gives us a shovel. But He also gives us the strength we need.

But I’ve discovered a tenuous joy in these issues— more precisely, a joy because of them. Our illness is not meant to destroy us. That is not why God has allowed you to be afflicted.

I definitely did not choose this path I’m on.

Think about Jesus’ great love for people with hard issues:

Luke 7:21

Jesus has special spot for the afflicted, we see him repeated touching them. He drew them like a magnet draws iron. And he is the same today in our time. It is comforting to know that he cares for us and that we are understood. Let him draw you into his caring presence.

Our disabilities do not trouble him. Yes, I know the issues are formidable. But your obedience in them is an exquisitely special commodity to Jesus. I believe He values the shaking faith of broken people far more than the happy shiny people with no pain or scars.

Faith is precious in his sight and holds its value for all eternity.

Understanding this should be a cause for joy for the broken believer. Having the lightness of heart, right in the middle of our disability, often transforms these issues into a lighter burden. We are  beaten but not totaled. Incredibly challenged but not completely devastated. The apostle wrote this in his letter to the Corinthians, and it gives us hope.

I have learned that if I can bless a difficult thing it will bless me.

If we curse it and it will curse us. If you bless a situation, it has no power to hurt you, and even if it is troublesome for a time, it will gradually fade out, but only you can only sincerely bless it.  

There’s a deep joy waiting for those who choose to do this.

I guarantee it!