by jphilo | May 4, 2015 | Church Newsletter Columns
Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them,
for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.:
Matthew 19:14
In the last five years, I’ve spent a considerable amount of time climbing on special needs soap box and preaching the special needs ministry gospel. I keep doing it, not because soap box climbing firms flabby glutes, but because I am passionate about reaching out to kids with special needs and their families. And because doing so follows the example of Jesus, who in Matthew 19:14, commanded his disciples to bring the children to him.
That’s why my co-author and I chose to use the verse from Matthew to begin our new book Every Child Welcome: A Ministry Handbook for Including Kids with Special Needs. Perhaps it’s also why the creators of the Red Card Kids chose the same passage as one of its key verses.
So many kids in this fallen world live in conditions inconceivable to you, me, and the children in churches in our country. Too many kids live in poverty. Homeless and hunger are the norm for millions. Others are orphans due to war and diseases like AIDS and ebola. Some are conscripted into armies as soldiers or sold by human traffickers into slavery. The statistics are heart-breaking.
Even so Jesus calls every child, every single child, to himself. Throughout his ministry he sought out the homeless, the poor, the oppressed, the sick, and the disabled. But how can we, as a church in a small rural town in Iowa, follow in his footsteps and seek out kids living in terrible conditions?
A good first step is to become educated about the lives of these kids who are precious in the sight of God. This summer, my home church is committed to educating every person, young and old, in our congregation about these issues. To accomplish that goal, Red Card Kids will be used as our VBS to be held during the Sunday school hour for eight weeks, starting May 31.*
Red Card Kids VBS is an opportunity for all of us, adults and children, to step outside of our comfortable lives, and experience in small ways how kids live in places far, far away.
If we are willing, God will use Red Card Kids to break up the ignorant, stony spots in all our hearts, from the youngest, the oldest, and everyone in between. He will then sow seeds of compassion into our brokenness. If we are willing, he will transform our compassion into passion that motivates all of us to climb on a soap box and preach the Red Card Kids gospel to our friends, our neighbors, and anyone else we meet.
Not because soap box climbing firms flabby glutes. But because our hearts are broken and soft. Because the compassion of Christ compels us to do what we can to reach kids who are sick, poor, homeless, hungry, orphaned, sold into slavery, or conscripted as soldiers. Because we are passionate about reaching those kids with the true gospel of hope and a better life to come.
I’m ready for Red Card Kids. My soap box ready for action. Will you start looking for your soap box and join me?
*If you live in or near Boone, Iowa, you’re cordially invited to join us at Grace Community Church each Sunday (May 31–July 26 except for the July 4th weekend) at 9:15 for our Red Card Kids VBS program. You’ll find the address and a map at the church website. If your church would like to do Red Card Kids, visit their website for more information.
by jphilo | Mar 30, 2015 | Church Newsletter Columns
For the good that I want, I do not do,
but I practice the very evil that I do not want….
I find then the principle that evil is present in me,
the one who wants to do good.
Romans 7: 19, 21
Last week, I decided to study a word from 1 Peter 3:8–12, the passage Pastor Tim was scheduled to preach on the upcoming Sunday. The word was evil which Peter used a whopping five times in five verses. But that was only one reason for selecting it. I also chose it because it’s a word I tend to attribute to bad people, not to myself.
Because I’m not evil. I don’t go around planning evil deeds to discredit others or hatching evil plots to take over the world. I’m a nice person. Just like you. So while studying this particular word would reveal much about the Hitlers and Neros and Stalins of the world, what it revealed would have little bearing for me. Or for you.
The strategy worked well at first. In the gospels, Jesus outs evil vineyard workers (not me) and an evil slave (not me and certainly not you). But then, Paul turned up the heat in Romans 2:9 where his list of slanderers, haters of God,…inventors of evil, and disobedient to parents made me slightly uncomfortable. Not the inventors of evil bit. After all, I don’t go around inventing evil. But some of the other things listed–slanderer and disobedient? I, and perhaps you too, may have indulged in a few of them when we were young. Very, very young.
Then, in Romans 7 Paul describes how he struggles to do good and continually chooses evil. He declares that though he wants to do good, the principle of evil is present in him. That was where my not-like-me strategy fell apart completely. Because Paul wasn’t just describing himself. He was describing me. Like Paul, I start each day with the best of intentions. I resolve to speak kindly to my husband, forgive people who are unkind, give the benefit of the doubt when someone lets me down, and eat only healthy food.
On a good day, I don’t fail until after breakfast. On a bad day, I’m holding a grudge before I can turn off the alarm clock. Every single day, like Paul and perhaps like you, I find then the principle of evil is present in me, the one who wants to do good.
Paul’s words tore the blinders off my eyes, and I saw myself as God sees me. Evil. I am evil. The truth of those words crushed my heart because I knew that tomorrow and the next day and the next, I would want to do good, and I would choose evil.
I wallowed in hopelessness until I remembered how the Pharisees told Pilate Jesus was an evildoer. Until I remembered that though Pilate found Jesus not guilty, he delivered an innocent Man to the cross. Until I remembered that Jesus bore my evil deeds, and yours too, in His body on the cross, so that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. Until I remembered why the Friday Jesus died is called good and not evil.
Because covered in Christ’s righteousness, God sees me and you and all who believe in His Son not as evildoers, but as His children who not only want to do good, but actually are good. Alleluia! What a Savior!
by jphilo | Feb 2, 2015 | Church Newsletter Columns
Therefore, prepare your minds for action, keep sober in spirit,
fix your hope completely on the grace
to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
1 Peter 1:13
Thus far, 2015 has not been my favorite year. Before the first two weeks of January were over, our first granddaughter was born ten days early, an unexpected opening at an assisted living facility meant Mom could move in pronto instead of in two months, our daughter and son-in-law moved into the new condo they purchased, and the page proofs for my latest book project arrived, along with a very short turn around time.
“Your life is a lot like a movie where everything happens at once,” my sister observed.
“Yes,” I agreed. “A really bad movie.”
Things didn’t improve much over the next few days when an avalanche of medical, financial, and insurance details related to Mom’s move threatened to derail a trip to meet the new baby. Somehow, I plowed through the mess and spent a sweet week helping the young family adjust to its newest member.
But even at the best of times–cuddling the baby or playing with our grandson–a silent, unending refrain invaded my every waking moment. 2015 is like a movie. A really bad movie.
A really bad, exhausting movie.
The refrain was so loud and insistent I could barely hear the pastor teach about 1 Peter 1:13–16 during his sermon. Or maybe I didn’t want to hear what he or the apostle Peter had to say about a believer’s response to hard times. Because the pastor’s reiteration of Peter’s commands to cultivate a disciplined mind and sober spirit discouraged me. After all, I’ve dedicated daily time to obeying those commands for years and years. But my obedience wasn’t making this particular hard time any easier.
Not. One. Bit.
But then, the pastor got to Peter’s third command to fix our hope on Christ. Not just on the hope of our present salvation, but also on the future hope of glory spent in his presence for eternity. Glory which he promises that his children will one day fully experience.
As I contemplated that promise and began to fix my eyes upon the hope of Christ, the bad movie soundtrack in my brain gradually faded away. I wish I could say it was replaced by heavenly music sung by choirs of angels. But it wasn’t. And I wish I could say that my present troubles faded away, too.
But they didn’t.
But with my eyes fixed upon the hope of glory in Christ yet to come, present troubles no longer consumed my thoughts. They didn’t rule my day. They could no longer taint my attitude. Because I was and am looking forward to something.
You can look forward to the same something. In the midst of hard times, dashed expectations, unwanted change, or devastating loss, you can look forward to this glimpse of future glory Peter offers. His words are a mere taste of what’s to come, just the trailer of the glorious, unending movie where everything good happens in the eternal lives of believers at once and forever.
And though I haven’t heard soundtrack for the movie, I know it will be heavenly!
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.
by jphilo | Dec 1, 2014 | Church Newsletter Columns
And He is the radiance of His glory
and the exact representation of His nature,
and upholds all things by the word of His power.
Hebrews 1:3
Babies on the brain. That’s been the state of affairs at our house ever since this summer. When both our children and their spouses announced Philo grandbaby #2 will arrive in late January followed by #3 in early April. Hiram’s busy building baby furniture and baby toys in his shop. I’m busy ordering board books and preparing freezer meals. My sister is planning a small family baby shower the weekend after Thanksgiving, and Hiram and I are planning other Christmas surprises to make life easier for the mammas after their babies are born.
With Christmas only weeks away, each time I dream of holding those sweet infants in my arms, breathing in their baby smell, and kissing their foreheads, my thoughts drift to the birth of Jesus. I think of Jesus–the radiance of God’s glory, the exact representation of His nature, who upholds all things by the word of His power–come to earth as a newborn babe. The thought boggles my mind.
Why did God come to earth as a baby? As a human baby, more dependent and for longer than any other babies in all creation? Why did God come to earth as a baby dependent on parents for both his physical survival and for the nurturing, loving relationship that teaches babies how to love? Why would God set aside his power and majesty and glory and come in humility as a baby who needed the love of mere humans in order to thrive and grow?
My answer feels small as a baby.
Insignificant as a manger.
But a baby in a manger changed the world, and the answer the Holy Spirit whispers in my heart changes the way I see the world. God came to the earth as a baby to show us that tiny lives have value. He was born to Mary and Joseph to impress upon mankind the sacredness of family. He was nurtured throughout childhood by his parents to show the importance of relationship and compassion and patience in the shaping of every life.
God sent Jesus to earth as a tiny baby, dependent on the adults who loved Him, to show sinful men how to reflect the radiance of God’s glory, the exact representation of His nature, and the power that upholds the world. It is reflected when we follow the example of Christ by humbling ourselves before the Father. By submitting to His call to engage in relationship with those who are small. With those whose survival depends upon our acts of compassion.
The changing of a diaper.
An Operation Christmas Child shoebox.
Thirty-five dollars a month to support a child in the Congo.
Fixing supper for children at Adventure Club.
Because, “Truly,” Jesus tells us, “to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.”
To Jesus. A baby born in a manger.
To Jesus, Lord of all.
by jphilo | Nov 3, 2014 | Church Newsletter Columns
We interrupt this month’s devotional to congratulate the winner of The Caregiver’s Notebook give away, Pam Christensen. Here’s what she says about how she plans to use the book:
Both of our sons have different learning disorders and ADHD. It gets complicated keeping track of their various appts, meetings with teachers, therapists reports, medications, etc. I’m looking forward to using this resource to organize it all in one place. As a caregiver for not only our sons, but also for my mother, I’m also looking forward to using the prayer guide.
Thanks to all who entered the give away. In the next few months, several other bloggers will be hosting Caregiver’s Notebook give aways. The easiest way to enter them is to like my Facebook author page or follow me on Twitter (@jolenephilo) where they’ll be publicized. Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming.
Put on the full armor of God,
so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil.
For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness,
against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.
Ephesians 6:11–12
Do you remember the Frank Peretti spiritual warfare trilogy from the early 1990s? I read one book in the series, and it scared the pants off me. Not literally, but if you read them, you know what I mean. The books made the inhabitants of the dark side of the spiritual realm spookily terrifying. At least for wimps with active imaginations who read the stories and went on high alert. Wimps like me who wasted years scanning the horizon for spiritual warfare bad guys lurking in the shadowy corners of life.
Two decades later, God is shining a light on the errors inherent in my thinking. My bad guy alert has not located a single suspect. And yet, God’s word says that spiritual warfare is real. It exists and impacts the lives of believers, though perhaps not in the guise of little demons flapping their wings above our beds as we sleep.
No, our enemy is much more sophisticated than that. Sophisticated enough to design obstacles that divert us from doing good to repairing the damage of evil in our daily lives. Every day, ordinary obstacles that peel off our squeaky-clean Christian exteriors and expose the darkness within us. Lost luggage at the airport. Computer crashes. Misfiled emails. Illness. Flat tires. Silly spats with people we love and admire. Miscommunications. Broken friendships.
These occurrences intensify when believers prepare to invade enemy strongholds. When we step out of our safe, secure Christian enclaves of light to reach those in lost in the darkness. When we heed the call of Christ to bring goodness into dark places where his light has yet to shine.
When we step out in obedience, we can expect opposition. We can count on it. And we can rejoice in it. Because by whatever name we call it–enemy opposition or spiritual warfare or mind games or every day, ordinary obstacles–the push back means that we are where God wants us to be. We are in the forefront of the battle the enemy wants us to think he will win. But he can’t. Because the victory has already been won by Christ, and He has called us to carry that truth to all who’ve not yet heard the good news. So when you sense the enemy pushing back in the every day, ordinary happenings of life, don’t turn tail and run. Instead, press on and follow Paul’s advice in Ephesians 6:10–20:
Put on the full armor of God.
Stand firm.
Wear truth and righteousness and the gospel of peace.
Put on the helmet of salvation,
the shield of faith
and the sword of the Spirit–God’s word.
Press on by praying God’s promises from Romans 8:
If God is for us, who is against us?
He who did not spare His own Son,
but delivered Him over for us all,
how will He not also with Him freely give us all things?…
For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities,
nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth,
nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God,
which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Press on!
Photo Credit: www.stuffIcanuse.com
