Reminding God

There's a song we sing in church a pretty good bit called "Your Grace is Enough," by Chris Tomlin. One of reasons I really like this song is because it has the ethos of the Old Testament, couched in New Testament language. It starts out remembering the faithfulness of God, talking about his character and "reminding" God of who he is. Then, it goes into my favorite part of the song. If this wasn't a song, but prose in a book, it might read something like this: "Now, because of who you are and what you do (all that we've just said) remember your people, remember your children, remember your promise, oh God." I love to sing these lines because it is what Abraham, Moses, David, and most of the prophets did over and over again. When there were problems, when they needed help, they reminded God of who he is and his character, then they called on him to remember that they were his people and that he had promised them certain things, and they wanted those promises to be fulfilled.

Here's the thing: I've seen this transfer into my own prayer life. I find myself many times, recounting God's character, and then reminding God that I am his child, or that the person I'm praying for is his child, and that he has promised his children certain things that I am now asking him to fulfill. Now, this might seem like demands on God by an arrogant human, but it's all throughout Scripture. "God, you have promised us certain things as your children, and we know that keeping those promises are in line with your character. Now, as your children, as those promised, we ask you to come through, just as you have in the past. Remember what you've told us you would do for us. . . and do it. We need you to do it. We're asking you to do it. We're calling on you to keep your word to us, your children. Don't forget about us. We're here, and we need you to remember."

Sunday School Sneak Peek: Storytime!

What does it take to make a good story? Compelling plot? Interesting characters? Drama and suspense? Probably a little mix of all of that and more. And what about storytellers? Those people who just somehow seem to have a knack for drawing you in to the world of their story. How do they do it effectively? What's the secret to becoming a good storyteller?

This week in Sunday School we're going to be looking at Acts 22. Paul's been arrested. . .again, and when he goes before the council that will hear his case, he decides to tell a story as his defense. If there ever was a time for a good story, this would it.

Legacy in Reverse

My church has been having its annual Missions Conference the past three days, and this year I helped with the M.I.T (Missionaries In Training) program for the kids. Each night I got to walk around with about 10-15 4th-graders as they heard about missionaries who went to India, and as they got to see what life is like in places like South Africa. Being with the kids at my church for stuff like this is one of the great joys for me! They're funny, maddening, and help keep me from becoming too focused on myself and thinking that church is all about my needs being met.

Tuesday night was the last night and, as is pretty typical, by the last night of anything, kids (and the leaders) can become a little frayed. The next-to-last thing we did was listen to the Children's Director talk about what it really means to go and be a missionary to places around the world. In other words, this was the "challenge" part of the whole thing. At one point the Children's Director said, "And guys, that's one of my prayers for y'all, is that one day God would call some of you to go to some country around the world and tell people about Jesus." And, as he said it, goosebumps covered me, and a lump welled up in my throat, because I had forgotten momentarily why I volunteered to help in the first place.

See, here's the thing: I don't help with the kids during the Missions Conference because I'm trying to gain favor with the Children's Director (or even anyone else in the church). I don't even do it because they're always shorthanded. (I learned a long time ago, I can't meet every need that's out there.) No, really, at the end of the day, I do it because I want those kids, those 4th-graders to hear about missions, to learn about examples of those who've gone before them, because ultimately, I want them to go.

As I watched them this weekend learning how to play Cricket or painting their South African flags or listening to the actor who played William Carey, I was praying, "Which one, God? Which of these are you gonna call? Who's it gonna be, that's gonna take the Gospel to a people group that I've never even heard of?" That's what I was praying. That's what I'm hoping. It's not keeping them preoccupied while their parents are upstairs in the "real" conference. It's the possibility that one day, when I'm in my 60's, I'll sit down with them at the Missions Conference in 2043, and they'll tell me about the churches they're helping plant in Bangladesh, or how they're seeing some really exciting breakthroughs happen with orphans in North Korea, and I'll sit and marvel that they're being able to go into these countries that I've been praying for all these years and longed for the chance to set foot in.

Could it be Brock. . .or Grace. . . or Gabe. . . or Madison? Next year's conference? Sign me up!

Holding On

Most people that know me well know that I like listening to Steven Curtis Chapman. I buy his CDs, I've been to one of his concerts, I check out his webpage from time-to-time. I'm a fan. It's not so much his music that I connect with, actually his music is pretty different than anything else I listen to. Instead, it's the words to the songs he writes that my heart tends to be drawn too. I have a list of his songs that I send to folks who I know are going through hard times, trials, etc., and this morning I listened to a couple of them on the way in to work. This one is titled "Hold on to Jesus," and it's from Steven's 1997 CD Signs of Life.

I have come to this ocean
And the waves of fear are starting to grow
The doubts and questions are rising with the tide
So I'm clinging to the one sure thing I know

Chorus:
I will hold on to the hand of my Savior
And I will hold on with all my might
I will hold loosely to things that are fleeting
And hold on to Jesus
I will hold on to Jesus for life

I've tried to hold many treasures
They just keep slipping through my fingers like sand
But there's one treasure that means more than breath itself
So I'm clinging to it with everything I am Chorus

Bridge:
Like a child holding on to a promise
I will cling to His word and believe
As I press on to take hold of that
for which Christ Jesus took hold of me Chorus

Here's the things that stood out to me this morning: the first stanza and chorus of this song seem to sum up pretty well my life these days. I imagined myself closing the door to my room at bedtime, coming to the bank of the ocean. As I pull back the covers, the fears do start to grow. Each night I wonder and think, "What will it be like tonight? Will this finally be the night of freedom and rest, or will this be another night of battle?" There are so many things about all this that I don't understand and can't even put into coherent thoughts. There is so much about what's real and what's not that is blurred these days for me. My ability to discern things accurately has greatly diminished, and so I have no choice but to believe in the one thing that I know for certain. It is outside me and beyond me, and that's a very good thing, because what's inside and around me may or may not be trustworthy.

So I hold on to Jesus. As cheesy as that sounds, that's what I do, night after night. And I gotta be honest, when I sing, read, hear that line "I will hold on to Jesus for life," for me the meaning isn't holding on to Jesus for life as in an amount of time, as in I will be doing this forever. No, for me it's holding on to Jesus for life like a man hangs onto a root sticking out of the mountain cliff he's just slipped and fallen over. It's holding on for life like a passeger holds onto to a piece of wood that's floating by off the ship she was on that just sunk. Holding on for life.

Sunday School Leftovers

Okay, so Chad did an amazing job teaching Sunday School yesterday, and again, I'm learning so much about evangelism through this series on Acts. Things I've thought about for years, in ways I've never thought about them. One thing he said, in particular that stuck out to me yesterday, when he was talking about the transformation in his thinking about evangelism that's occurred as he's shaken off his performance mentality about the Christian life, "I care more about the person than converting them." Interesting, thoutht-provoking, very dangerous if taken out-of-context and looked at in immature ways. I love it.

Haven't We Been Over This Already?

So, Radley is now about nine months old, and since my roommate got him when he was only about five weeks old, two things are very true. One, he learned a lot of tricks, routines, patterns very early in life, and two, it feels like he's been a puppy forever! See, early on we taught him to sit, lay down, stay, and to come when called. Along the way he also learned our personalities, patterns, and behaviors. He knew when we wanted to pet him, and when we wanted him to leave us alone. He learned where his boundaries were and what things were off limits.

But, here's the thing: as he's gotten older and bigger and changed, he's entered a new phase where he doesn't mind as much anymore and all the things that he's learned seemed to have gone right out the window. I was thinking about that the other day and how once again, it so closely mimics and reflects my walk with Christ. See, I've been living with Christ for almost twenty-four years now -- I came to faith when I was about six or seven -- and I've learned a lot about what it means to be a follower of Christ. Along the way as Christ has taught me things and shown me things, I've also picked up a good bit about God's personality, and yet there are seasons in my life, just like with Radley, when those lessons and the things I know seem to have flown right out the window, and I live like I'm brand new at the this whole Christian-life thing.

And when these times come, it's as if God has to come back and re-teach the basics to me, like we're having to do now with Radley. This is how to sit, lay down, come when called, these are the boundaries, this is off limits. It's tedious work, with puppies and with people. I'm just so thankful that God's patience is infinitely greater with me than mine is with that little white dog sometimes.

Christ-centered Evangelism. . . What?!

Acts chapter two is a partial record of Peter's brilliant sermon to the devout Jews that were in Jerusalem at the time when the disciples received the gift of the Holy Spirit (2:5). There's a lot that can and has been said about this sermon, and many lessons in evangelism that can be taken from it, but one that has continued to stand out to me is the Christ-centeredness of what Peter says. Peter's sermon is all about Christ. He shows his audience how the prophescies about the coming Messiah (2:16-21, 25-30) were fulfilled in the man of Jesus Christ (2:22-24, 31-33). He paints a picture of Jesus of Nazareth that is big, that is compelling, that is God-sized, namely because Jesus of Nazareth was in fact, God.

Now, here's the thing that I find so interesting as I've thought about the differences between Peter's sermon and how evangelism tends to be done in today's context. See, we tend to focus most of our time on convincing the person we're talking to that they are a sinner who needs saving. We tend to try and paint a picture of God who is perfect and man who is sinful and show them that this is a bad problem that must be resolved. And, while I don't think that this is at all a bad way to do evangelism, it does seem to me to be pretty man-centered. It's all about showing the person's problem, the person's need, and sometimes I wonder if this leaves much room to do what Peter did, paint a really big picture of who Christ is and what he did on earth.

At the end of his sermon, Luke writes that "when they heard this they were cut to the heart" (2:37). It's as if you can almost hear what they were thinking, "What have we done?! We have rejected the Messiah!" The truth about Christ, seeing who he really was, cut them to the heart as they realized their own fault, and it led them to repentance. Could it be that if we spent our time showing and talking about Christ in these kinds of ways to the lost around us, they too might realize that they have rejected the Messiah and ask, "What do we need to do?"