by jphilo | Oct 5, 2015 | Uncategorized
But you, beloved, build yourselves up in your most holy faith.
Jude 1:20
A couple weeks ago I flew to North Carolina on Friday and returned on Sunday. Both flights departed v-e-r-y early. So early that I had to skip my daily exercise routine for an entire weekend. Secretly, I appreciated having a legitimate reason to play hooky. I told myself it meant more time to meet and minister to hurting parents and network with others who serve special needs families. And to hobnob when the opportunity arose. And to do all of it guilt free.
Reality returned Monday when I resumed the old routine. About halfway through the morning walk that’s normally a breeze, my muscles screamed “Enough already!”
Talk about God’s perfect timing! There I was, walking down an ordinary street in my ordinary town when he used my aching muscles to drive home a point Oswald Chambers made in the devotional I had read just one day early. At the airport. While waiting to board the plane home. Chambers said this:
It is ingrained in us that we have to do exceptional things for God–but we do not. We have to be exceptional in the ordinary things of life, and holy in the ordinary streets, among ordinary people–and this is not learned in five minutes.
At that moment God made his priorities for my life very clear. He considers my faithfulness in the small, daily happenings of life as more valuable than my participation in exceptional events. He wants me to devote the bulk of my time to the ordinary. He calls me and all Christians to see the ordinary as holy.
But how can we frail humans be exceptional in the ordinary things? How can we persevere through the mundane dreariness of daily duties? How do we infuse holiness into the wiping of noses, changing the oil, yard work, visiting elderly neighbors, walking the dog, and punching the time clock at work day after ho-hum day?
The truth is, we can’t do it ourselves. The only way we can do it by asking Jesus to quicken his Spirit within us. To transform us into a people for his own purposes through the consistent practice of the spiritual disciplines he uses to draw us closer to him.
So that through perseverance and faithfulness, we grow strong enough to live like Jesus did during his time on earth. To walk down dusty roads with people who need compassion. To welcome children and the messes they make into our lives. To devote the best part of our days to ministering to the sick, the broken, and the despised. To wake up in the morning ready and willing to do it all over again. To count as holy and exceptional the ordinary work he calls us to complete.
Because if Jesus, the exceptional Creator of the universe, considered the ordinary people and ordinary events worthy of his time and devotion and lifeblood, how can we do anything less?
by jphilo | Jan 5, 2015 | Church Newsletter Columns
This is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.
1 Timothy 2:4
Many years ago, when our kids were little and my husband and I purchased a membership to a fitness club. A year later, we cancelled it. Why? Because we hardly ever used it. According to a report about fitness clubs, we were exactly the kind of people they love. Fitness clubs enroll more members than their facilities can serve. If everyone showed up at once, there would not be nearly enough torture devices–excuse me–I mean, treadmills, elliptical machines, and stationary bicycles. Personal trainers would become the gym rat equivalent of an elementary school teacher teaching 25 children to count change, tell time, and convert pounds to ounces to tons at the same time. Not a pretty sight.
So those fitness club ads aimed at motivating couch potatoes to get off the couch and into the gym secretly hope for something else. They hope a few people will buff up–to show off in future ads–but that most will leave their couches just long enough to pay their money, work out once or twice, and then go back to watching the yoga channel on TV.
Which got me to thinking. What if the church followed the fitness club business model? What if believers motivated oodles of people to follow Jesus? And what if they encouraged a few to get spiritually buffed up–for future evangelism ads–but hoped most would come to church once or twice, tithe annually, and then watch the televangelist channel at home?
Then it hit me. Our faith is like the fitness club business model until we know who Christ is and who we are in comparison, until we know why he came to earth as a baby and lived a sinless life, until we comprehend his work on the cross and proclaim him the risen Savior, until we claim the blood on his brow as payment our sins and bow undone at his nail-scarred feet.
The spiritually buff may look better on the surface than the couch potato, but neither has a deep faith. Faith isn’t a business transaction. It’s a relationship with Christ fostered through spiritual discipline like delving into God’s word, committing to prayer, fellowshipping with believers, giving back to God through tithes, and serving the local body. A relationship of Christ is a lifetime of giant leaps into the darkness of the future and finding him there before you, of learning to trust him in the depth of sorrow, and of praising him in joyful mountaintop moments.
Faith isn’t an advertising campaign either. Christ didn’t die on the cross so many would believe, but only a few come to know him well. No, he desired for all to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.
So when you make your New Year’s resolutions for 2015, how about adding one designed to grow your relationship with Christ? To read scripture daily or keep a prayer journal. To join a Bible study or tithe regularly. To find a place to serve at church.
Now, how about writing you resolution above the one about joining a fitness club. Because a relationship with Christ trumps even the best business model and our best intentions. Not just for today, but for eternity.
