"For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. Now what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you." -Acts 17:23
"Why do you find it so hard to believe?" "Why do you find it so easy?" "It's never been easy! It's a leap of faith Jack." -John Locke and Jack Shephard, Lost
Faith in God is a hard thing to come by sometimes. I'm a youth pastor at a big church in Fort Worth, Texas and I think faith can be a hard thing to find. You ever felt that way? Maybe you have believed since you could form words and play with Lincoln Logs. Maybe you have struggled with this thing called faith since you heard about the idea of God. Maybe you want nothing to do with faith in a God of any kind.
Well, you're not alone in that, whichever "that" you find yourself in.
Sometimes it's hard for people who have believed their whole lives to understand people who don't want anything to do with God. Or better yet, it's hard to fathom that there are people who believe but have questions and doubts.
I love the way the author of Hebrews describes faith. "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for." It is HARD sometimes to believe in something we can't hear, or taste, or touch, or tweet at. Heck, Thomas, a DISCIPLE, had a hard time believing Jesus was who he said he was a couple of days after Jesus had been crucified.
We are all looking for something to believe in. We all have faith in something. For some that faith lies in God. For others, it's their country. Others still, their family or their job. The point is we all have faith, the question is in what.
A lot of people today fall into the category: "spiritual but not religious." There is an inkling there is something bigger going on, but to define it in Christian, or any other religion's, terms is too strong a leap. Some call it fate. Others destiny. Still others karma. The ancient Greeks were the same way.
The Greeks were incredibly religious people with deities for all
occasions. They were full of faith. When Paul came to town talking about some one God and His son it
was different, and the Athenians didn't know how to handle it, so they
asked him to share.
In the book of Acts Paul walks up to an altar in Athens dedicated to AN UNKNOWN GOD. So Paul decides to fill in the unknown for the Athenians. "The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands... For in him we live and move and have our very being."
The Athenians had an idea that there was more to the world than what they could see and feel. They had faith. Paul took that faith and put flesh to it.
That can be hard though. Most of us can feel like the Athenians sometimes. Whether we call ourselves Christian or not, the idea of a God who is infinite and beyond measure just seems... unknown. It can be hard to have faith in a God like that.
But I'm thankful for people like Paul, who do have that boundless faith in the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Just a few weeks ago I was talking with one of the teenagers in my youth group and he asked me a question.
"Martin," he said. "I know people are supposed to have questions and doubt. But what if I don't? What if I just believe that God has a plan for things and that He's working it out? What if I don't have any doubts God exists?"
Holy trust Batman! My response was nowhere near as perfect. "You are incredibly blessed if you can believe like that. It's a rare gift to have that faith. And it may be lonely. But that faith can inspire people and it can be a light in the world."
Not all of us have that kind of faith. Maybe what we do believe about God is just hanging by a thread. But if you do, share it. Let it inspire others who need more patience and for whom believing takes all the effort they have. And let our faith bear fruits that are so sweet that others will want to share them.
There's a great story at the end of the movie Angels in the Outfield. A teenage boy prays that God will help the team win so that his family can get back together. Well, God answers and angels start to help out. And the team starts winning. The boy, Roger, tells the manager of the team and let's him know when Angels are there to help. Afraid of looking like a loon, Coach Knox decides it's best to keep the presence of angels a secret. But of course the secret gets out.
Forced to deny the existence of angels at the games or risk being fired, a press conference is called. When the critical question is asked, Maggie, Roger's foster parent stands up. "Every kid I've ever taken care of has been looking for someone to love, an angel. You've gotta have faith. You've gotta believe. You've gotta look inside yourself. The footprints of an angel are love. And where there is love miraculous things can happen. I've seen it."
If you've found faith, don't hold it in. Let it shine. As Maggie said, let your love be the footprints of faith, the tangible evidence of a God beyond understanding. People don't need to hear A story of God. They need YOUR story of God.
And if you're looking for it, don't give up. You're not alone. It is hard, and sometimes the journey towards faith may seem hopeless. Maybe you're convinced this God thing is a big sham. But if there's an inkling in your stomach that there is something more, don't let that nudge die. If your faith is holding onto nothing more than a thread and the doubts are overwhelming, I am praying for you. Ask your questions. Name your doubts. And pray that God might bring answers, or quiet your apprehensions.
"Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." May you find it.
forever unfinished...
Friday, February 8, 2013
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Don't Judge Me...
"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?" -Matthew 7:3-4
"When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, 'I will confess my transgressions to the Lord'-- and you forgave the guilt of my sin." -Psalm 32:3-5
"Don't judge me."
It's become the rallying cry of our culture.
"Who are you to tell me what to do? You're no better than me!"
We live in a world where we want to do what we want to do, and when people push back against that, we don't like it much. And it seems like the church has become the bulls-eye of these accusations.
The church has not lived up to who it was called to be. We have far too often stood inside our walls commenting and belittling those outside them. Our words have carried everything EXCEPT grace and love. And we have become a great place for people to come and mask their flaws and call out the brokenness in others.
You see, it's MUCH easier to find the flaws in others and hide our own. It's not a church problem. It's a people problem. "Maybe," we think, "if everyone is noticing everyone ELSE'S problems they won't have time to see mine." So we build up walls and put on faces. And we live our lives the way we want and won't listen when others tell us no. "Don't judge me!" we cry out.
But I think there is something better. Jesus has a better way. As he talks to his disciples one day, actually in his very first time meeting with them as a group, he gives them a picture of what it means to follow him. They are going to be the inner circle so to speak, the ones who most closely will get to see what it looks like to be like the rabbi. So, as Jesus often does, he uses a little metaphor.
"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?" It's a question we latch on to when we don't want others interfering in our business. "Don't judge me you hypocrite!" And if that verse was where the story ended, I'd completely agree. But he didn't stop there.
"You hypocrite," Jesus continued," first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye." It's a story of community! It's a story of humility and a story of brokenness!
We are broken people. I am a broken person. I am flawed and I hurt others and I think of myself FAR more highly than I ought. I am selfish and arrogant and often fail to see the beauty and value of others' ideas and gifts. I say hateful, insincere and inconsiderate things and I'm lonely. I'm insecure and unsure of myself and my value. I'm afraid that people don't need me and people dismiss me. That's who I am in the core of my soul. That's who WE are.
And I'd much rather walk that walk with people walking with me. I'd much rather walk with people who are broken together, removing the planks from our own eyes and encouraging others to pull the sawdust from their own. This requires sacrifice. It means allowing others into our shame. It means allowing others to see our pain. It means allowing others to see the parts of our lives we spend our lives hiding.
I seek, as David sought in the psalms, to be known, to let go of my pain and shame and the things I hide that make me feel guilt. It is hard. It is embarrassing. It is SCARY. It goes against my nature to let people see the parts of me they might turn me away for. But the other side of that fear is better. I crave and fear being known. I desire and run from allowing others into my insecurity. But when our masks come off and our insecurities are left behind, we are able to walk through a door that leads to life and life to the fullest. It's when we see our imperfections that the endless and infinite love and grace that is God shines most brightly!
And this is what the church is called to be.
But let me know if you've heard this one before. The church is just a haven for hypocrites. It's a place of "No" and "You're not welcome" and "I hate you." The people inside the walls are no better than those outside them, but they are a LITTLE more self-righteous.
Well, if you haven't heard any of those accusations, I'd love to come play under the rock where you've been living. The sadder thing is that they are usually right. But they don't have to be.
The church is called to be a community of people proclaiming their brokenness and the grace that fills it in. We are called to be a people who take off our masks and admit our flaws. We are called to be a community who allows others to pluck the planks out of our eyes while we encourage others struggling in the same ways. We are called to give AND receive love and grace. We are called to offer a better way!
"Don't judge me."
It's not for me. I'd rather have friends around me who push me to something better when I'm settling for less. Friends who pull me up when I've fallen. Friends who are willing to tell me I am broken because I know that their deepest desire is to love me. I'd rather admit the depth of my deepest pain to see the infinite depths of God's love than mask it and never taste the fruits of his grace! May I will always be willing to see the brokenness in myself and allow others in. And may you join me in that walk...
forever unfinished...
"When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, 'I will confess my transgressions to the Lord'-- and you forgave the guilt of my sin." -Psalm 32:3-5
"Don't judge me."
It's become the rallying cry of our culture.
"Who are you to tell me what to do? You're no better than me!"
We live in a world where we want to do what we want to do, and when people push back against that, we don't like it much. And it seems like the church has become the bulls-eye of these accusations.
The church has not lived up to who it was called to be. We have far too often stood inside our walls commenting and belittling those outside them. Our words have carried everything EXCEPT grace and love. And we have become a great place for people to come and mask their flaws and call out the brokenness in others.
You see, it's MUCH easier to find the flaws in others and hide our own. It's not a church problem. It's a people problem. "Maybe," we think, "if everyone is noticing everyone ELSE'S problems they won't have time to see mine." So we build up walls and put on faces. And we live our lives the way we want and won't listen when others tell us no. "Don't judge me!" we cry out.
But I think there is something better. Jesus has a better way. As he talks to his disciples one day, actually in his very first time meeting with them as a group, he gives them a picture of what it means to follow him. They are going to be the inner circle so to speak, the ones who most closely will get to see what it looks like to be like the rabbi. So, as Jesus often does, he uses a little metaphor.
"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?" It's a question we latch on to when we don't want others interfering in our business. "Don't judge me you hypocrite!" And if that verse was where the story ended, I'd completely agree. But he didn't stop there.
"You hypocrite," Jesus continued," first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye." It's a story of community! It's a story of humility and a story of brokenness!
We are broken people. I am a broken person. I am flawed and I hurt others and I think of myself FAR more highly than I ought. I am selfish and arrogant and often fail to see the beauty and value of others' ideas and gifts. I say hateful, insincere and inconsiderate things and I'm lonely. I'm insecure and unsure of myself and my value. I'm afraid that people don't need me and people dismiss me. That's who I am in the core of my soul. That's who WE are.
And I'd much rather walk that walk with people walking with me. I'd much rather walk with people who are broken together, removing the planks from our own eyes and encouraging others to pull the sawdust from their own. This requires sacrifice. It means allowing others into our shame. It means allowing others to see our pain. It means allowing others to see the parts of our lives we spend our lives hiding.
I seek, as David sought in the psalms, to be known, to let go of my pain and shame and the things I hide that make me feel guilt. It is hard. It is embarrassing. It is SCARY. It goes against my nature to let people see the parts of me they might turn me away for. But the other side of that fear is better. I crave and fear being known. I desire and run from allowing others into my insecurity. But when our masks come off and our insecurities are left behind, we are able to walk through a door that leads to life and life to the fullest. It's when we see our imperfections that the endless and infinite love and grace that is God shines most brightly!
And this is what the church is called to be.
But let me know if you've heard this one before. The church is just a haven for hypocrites. It's a place of "No" and "You're not welcome" and "I hate you." The people inside the walls are no better than those outside them, but they are a LITTLE more self-righteous.
Well, if you haven't heard any of those accusations, I'd love to come play under the rock where you've been living. The sadder thing is that they are usually right. But they don't have to be.
The church is called to be a community of people proclaiming their brokenness and the grace that fills it in. We are called to be a people who take off our masks and admit our flaws. We are called to be a community who allows others to pluck the planks out of our eyes while we encourage others struggling in the same ways. We are called to give AND receive love and grace. We are called to offer a better way!
"Don't judge me."
It's not for me. I'd rather have friends around me who push me to something better when I'm settling for less. Friends who pull me up when I've fallen. Friends who are willing to tell me I am broken because I know that their deepest desire is to love me. I'd rather admit the depth of my deepest pain to see the infinite depths of God's love than mask it and never taste the fruits of his grace! May I will always be willing to see the brokenness in myself and allow others in. And may you join me in that walk...
forever unfinished...
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