Verse of the Week...

The Visible Universe within 14 billion Light Years

http://www.atlasoftheuniverse.com/universe.html

As a Minnesota native and avid sports fan, it’s no wonder the Twins have a special place in my heart. They won two world championships during my childhood, once in 1987, when I was 8 years old, and another in 1991, when I was 12. I still remember running home from school with my best friend during certain autumn afternoons so we wouldn’t miss an at-bat of the Series. Well, much has changed since then. The Twins, though a perennial division contender, are notorious for making the playoffs, only to be immediately eliminated (usually a casualty of the seemingly invincible Yankees). So, the Twins’ marketing team has had to devise plans to get fans, and more importantly, keep them. One recent campaign that stood out emphasized the tagline, ‘Get to know ’em.’ The theory, I think, was to attract committed fans through increased exposure. They figured people would become more passionate (fanatical) as they became more knowledgeable. They were right. The more I watched these less heralded teams of the new millennium, the more invested I became. They weren’t that great, even good, but I knew the lineup, I knew the players, their tendencies, what made them tick. And I grew to love those teams.

So it is, or can be, with Jesus—if only we’d ‘Get to know Him.’

Over the next handful of entries I will seek to bring to the forefront some of the lesser known, or at least less mainstream, attributes of the Christ. Of course, in the hopes we’d become bigger fans.

Here goes.

He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. –Hebrews 1:3 (ESV)

It’s probably safe to assume most understand that Jesus, the Son, actually created (John 1:3). The Gospel of John says, ‘In Him was life…’ (verse 4). This, then, is not only true spiritually, but physically as well. But here's where it gets really good. Because Jesus spoke, and the universe came to be, He has absolute governance over it…to the point that its very subsistence is directly dependent upon the power of His enduring word. Let that marinate for a minute. Jesus, with divine authority, created life—all that exists. And He has, to this point, upheld His creation; He (literally His word) is the Force that causes all to hold together and persist—from the broadest standpoint of the course of supernatural history (God’s will for evil to eternally perish and His children to be rescued through His lifeblood unto salvation) all the way down to the natural forces and principles that rule the minutest of atomic particles. If that weren’t enough, He will, again, by His word, continue to cause universal solidarity (in the physical and spiritual) until the End.

And we ever doubt His power? To my shame, I have…and do.

Jesus is the Lamb of God because He takes away the sins of the world, not because He’s weak. Don’t let the Sunday school flannel graphs fool. When it comes to strength, power, He is the Lion of Judah, uncontested in His reign. There is nothing that exists that is not subject to His authoritative command. Another way to put it: the power of His word holds continued dominion over that which it created (and creates…remember, it is the Holy Spirit, of Jesus Himself, that breathes spiritual life into the hearts of men).

This concept of Jesus’ supreme and sustaining word isn’t isolated. Paul’s letter to the Colossians reiterates the writer of Hebrews:

And He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. –Colossians 1:17 (ESV)

What, then, can we conclude? Of the many things, let’s focus on two.

First, there is great profundity that Jesus was the member of the Godhead whom created. He spoke, and it was. He speaks, and it is upheld. And He will speak, with unparalleled power, when He comes again, riding on the clouds of heaven. He gave life at the very Beginning, and then He gave His own to ransom our captive hearts. Does that hit you like it does me? The Potter was rejected, crucified at the hands of the clay. But not because He was at all impotent, and thus, subject to forces of evil or man. He was willing, simultaneously for the sake of His Name and our rescue.

And secondly, this same Jesus, the God who holds the entire expanse of the universe together by the divine decree of His lips, cares for you and me. Intimately. And so He will continue to uphold us physically and spiritually—until the work He began is completed. This, even when all seems to be falling apart.

But anyone can care, right? Jesus takes a step further—to a point no one else can come close. Not only do we know (and are getting to know better) the God who cares about us…we know the One supremely powerful to carry us to eternity in heaven.

Grace to you, to get to know Him better,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

‘The one who is the true light, who gives light to everyone, was coming into the world.’ –John 1:9 (NLT)


If you’re anything like me, you can’t help but notice themes. Themes of the grand things, and those of the utterly trivial—both are perceived and pondered, often without relent. Perhaps I’m one of a loony few. Nevertheless, Christmas is one of the most thematic times of the year. Think about it. Lights, food, music, movies, décor, the sweet smell of gingerbread and sugar cookies wafting from the oven, cartons of egg nog lining the refrigerated section of the grocery store (if not the stomachs of its dedicated drinkers), even a generally more pleasant and charitable public readily depict the season. In fact, one might argue that if the stage were set just right, Christmas could be replicated in June or July almost as believably as it occurs in December, minus the temperatures…and snow-covered streets, for you Midwesterners.

The point is, every year, without fail, a thread of lightheartedness runs through fabric of our society post-Thanksgiving through the New Year, and people are happier. But why (my daughter and I are alike—we have to ask!)? There’s got to be a reason why almost everyone, believer in Jesus as God or not, has an uplifted spirit during the holidays. My answer is this: people are happier because people are hopeful. The Christmas season brings hope, by its original nature and intent, but also by society's secular crafting. We’re hopeful for the gift(s) we’re craving, we’re hopeful for the reunion with loved ones the holidays can secure, we’re hopeful for things as trite as time off from work (be honest!), and, some of us more than others, are hopeful for the culinary delights that for whatever reason only emerge during this particular season!

This year, I’ve recognized another Christmas theme. It, too, has to do with hope—though its object is fundamentally dissimilar from the aforementioned. In critically listening to the music of the season, particularly those Christmas hymns of yesteryear, it’s apparent they were referencing the hope of rescue. And more narrowly, rescue from spiritual darkness. Christmas, then, according to many of these traditional tunes, is about the True Light that came into the world (and still comes, again and again, when we need Him now, by the way). It’s about the dawning of our rescue, the birth of our salvation, the coming of our King. This kind of hope can hit the heart in its deepest regions. The result when it does? Rejoicing. Part of our nature is to rejoice in hope (just ask Paul). But the rejoicing these carols convey is more than a passing mood or a simple cheerfulness over the trifling things that expire with current calendar year. It is, rather, a soulful praise which emerges from the depths, and with freely flowing tears, as you grasp the unconditional grace of His arrival, His Advent…for you, personally. And as the singularity of the hope His birth inspires comes into full view, you cannot find yourself anywhere but on your knees before the Him, right where the lowly shepherds and trio of nobles found themselves that night, 2,000 years ago.

Check it:

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer


Our spirits by Thine advent here


Disperse the gloomy clouds of night


And death's dark shadows put to flight.


Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel


Shall come to thee, O Israel


And again:

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices


For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn'


Fall on your knees, oh hear, the angels' voices


Oh, night divine, oh, night, when Christ was born


And again:

So bring Him incense, gold and myrrh


Come peasant, king to own Him


The King of kings salvation brings


Let loving hearts enthrone Him


This, this is Christ the King


Whom shepherds guard and angels sing


Haste, haste to bring Him laud


The Babe, the Son of Mary


And finally, though admittedly not a Christmas carol:

Here is our King


Here is our Love


Here is our God who's come to bring us back to Him


He is the one


He is Jesus


Immanuel, the ‘with us’ God, came to our rescue.

Light broke into the world that first Christmas eve, with great force and fury, to dispel the darkness that leads to death.

Let us enthrone Him in our hearts, then, and haste to bring Him laud, that His light within us would shine unto eternal life.

A merry and hope-filled Christmas to you and yours,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

3And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. 4The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. 5For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. 6For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.
(2 Corinthians 4: 4-6)

After you’ve read the passage above, go back and read it again. Only this time, insert ‘good news’ where you see ‘gospel.’

You might do this already, as I do, to better understand the literal meaning of Paul’s message, rather than merely glossing over another religious-sounding word. It makes a substantial difference, especially in this particular context.

‘The light of the good news of the glory of Christ…’ Had you ever recognized the association between ‘gospel’ and ‘glory of Christ’? Truthfully, I hadn’t. But what a profound statement emerges when we do! Normally when we see ‘gospel,’ we immediately think of the good news of our salvation, paid in full by the death and resurrection of Jesus. We take it to mean our sins are forever forgiven, we’ll live eternally in heaven, pain and suffering will be long gone, and the news of that couldn’t get any better. Right? No doubt that’s all true. But perhaps we’re missing a crucial component. Perhaps what we’re perceiving is only a sliver of the story. Perhaps, the best part of the gospel remains hidden. What is it? Better, how will we find it? Shedding a little light on the subject will help, as Paul acknowledges. The best news of the good news is the glory of Jesus! Our salvation, our forgiveness, our redemption, purchased by the blood of the Savior, is ultimately for the sake of His Name. The cross, then, is certainly a symbol of hope and wholeness for you and me, but even more, it’s a mark of His magnification. God was lifted up that all men might see (amidst the illumination of the Light of the World) and savor Him…forevermore.

Check out Jesus’ prayer captured in John 17, just before He was betrayed, tried, and crucified:

“Father, the time has come. Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you…” (Verse 1)

Further, the Gospel writers, in their depiction of Jesus’ ministry, make one thing absolutely apparent—Jesus was about His Father’s work. That is, He was about His Father’s will. And fundamentally, God’s will is His worship. So if we consider our salvation the (sole?) subject of the good news, it turns out our aim is slightly awry. The central character to the Story of Life is God; at best, we play only a supporting role. The good news, the Gospel, then, is most directly Him and His glory. Therefore, the saving work of Christ was primarily for the Father’s glory, exactly why Paul points to our salvation as more a means of God’s glorification than the end of our eternal well-being. Notice how the Apostle describes his own ministry:

5For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. (2 Corinthians 4:5)

It’s not about Paul. He’s not the theme, he’s not the famous one, he has no desire for the Corinthian church to see him. Rather, he preaches Jesus. And not only that, he preaches Jesus as Master (Lord), which is a position of authority, one worthy of praise and full of glory. Paul is simply a shipwrecked servant, traveling, preaching, enduring hardship on every side…for his Master’s sake. Why? Because the eyes of his heart have been opened. And they can see the gospel (good news!) of the Father’s glory.

One more important point. The fact that God is all about His glory in no way means He is guilty of the sin of egocentrism. Not in the least. For you and me, centeredness on us and our own exultation is sinful. It is idolatry. But not so for God. Think about it. If He wasn't enraptured with Himself and His glory, He’d cease to be God. Be careful, then, not to apply to Him, the Creator, that which applies to the created.

Lastly, God’s passion for His glory is perfectly in accord with His unconditional, unending love for us. In His infinite wisdom, He knows the very best for us is our worship of Him. And so He solely wills and acts according to the purpose of His praise, and concurrently lavishes us with His love. It’s a beautiful thing—if you can see to believe it.


Grace to you, to see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of the invisible God,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

He who hears, let him be found

with his face into the ground—

where repentance is found,

where Jesus is found

              ‘You Say,’ Shane and Shane


The posture of kneeling is not an uncommon practice globally, despite its relative rarity in Western society. This is especially the case with orthodox religious practice. Many faith systems call for the position out of reverence and submission, and in fact, each year during the Hajj, the Muslim pilgrimage to Mecca, one might see upwards of a million people at once bowing before Allah. I’ve only seen pictures, but it’s a staggering sight nonetheless.

For those unfamiliar, I grew up attending a smallish evangelical church, one which did not practice corporate kneeling during worship services. As one might imagine, then, the thought of bowing before God only surfaced when reading a Bible story or seeing someone do it on the evening news. It was a completely foreign concept, that is, until I truly became a child of the King. At that point I found myself, time and again, drawn to my knees. I couldn’t help it. My spirit, in worship, begged my flesh, ‘Get low before Him.’ Then, when attending corporate services, I couldn’t understand why it was left out.

The physical act of kneeling before God is profoundly impactful. It’s so markedly distinct from our common stance it’s as if manipulating one’s posture directly influences one’s soul. It’s incredible, really. If you don’t currently do it, I encourage you to give it a try—you may be floored (sorry, couldn’t resist) at the result.

But enough of the ‘what,’ let’s move on to the ‘why.’ As I mentioned, falling prostrate before God became for me, as it has for countless others, a position of worship. No doubt, a reverent heart has a way of drawing one down. But as life rolled on, and as I continued in my faith, I noticed another prompter of this posture: repentance. As I committed sin after sin, and my heart broke over my infidelity, my face fell into the ground, where repentance was found, where Jesus was found. That’s why the above lyrics rang so true upon their hearing. It’s no wonder Psalm 51 so magnetized my living room floor!

Reverence and repentance—the two predominant provokers of this most submissive stance—began to blend. That’s when I realized they’re largely one in the same. Think about it. Repentance is the turning of one’s heart from sin, to God, but in doing so, it’s also a unanimous acknowledgment of His holiness. Our waywardness has a way of making His transcendent perfection crystal clear. And so as we seek the forgiveness of our Father, we declare the majesty of His matchless worth. He is exalted (worshipped) in our utter dependence upon His pardon. That’s why I personally love getting on my knees. I find that only in doing so do I grasp the reality of my absolute need. I cling to Him, to His awe-striking grace, when my face is buried in the floor. And my tears of worship become my food.

One of my favorite stories in the Bible (most of them have a way of becoming favorites!) is depicted in 1 Kings 18:16-39. Take a minute to read it (italics mine).

Elijah on Mount Carmel

16 So Obadiah went to meet Ahab and told him, and Ahab went to meet Elijah. 17 When he saw Elijah, he said to him, "Is that you, you troubler of Israel?"

18 "I have not made trouble for Israel," Elijah replied. "But you and your father's family have. You have abandoned the LORD's commands and have followed the Baals. 19 Now summon the people from all over Israel to meet me on Mount Carmel. And bring the four hundred and fifty prophets of Baal and the four hundred prophets of Asherah, who eat at Jezebel's table."

20 So Ahab sent word throughout all Israel and assembled the prophets on Mount Carmel. 21 Elijah went before the people and said, "How long will you waver between two opinions? If the LORD is God, follow him; but if Baal is God, follow him."

But the people said nothing.

22 Then Elijah said to them, "I am the only one of the LORD's prophets left, but Baal has four hundred and fifty prophets. 23 Get two bulls for us. Let them choose one for themselves, and let them cut it into pieces and put it on the wood but not set fire to it. I will prepare the other bull and put it on the wood but not set fire to it. 24 Then you call on the name of your god, and I will call on the name of the LORD. The god who answers by fire—he is God."

Then all the people said, "What you say is good."

25 Elijah said to the prophets of Baal, "Choose one of the bulls and prepare it first, since there are so many of you. Call on the name of your god, but do not light the fire." 26 So they took the bull given them and prepared it.

Then they called on the name of Baal from morning till noon. "O Baal, answer us!" they shouted. But there was no response; no one answered. And they danced around the altar they had made.

27 At noon Elijah began to taunt them. "Shout louder!" he said. "Surely he is a god! Perhaps he is deep in thought, or busy, or traveling. Maybe he is sleeping and must be awakened." 28 So they shouted louder and slashed themselves with swords and spears, as was their custom, until their blood flowed. 29 Midday passed, and they continued their frantic prophesying until the time for the evening sacrifice. But there was no response, no one answered, no one paid attention.

30 Then Elijah said to all the people, "Come here to me." They came to him, and he repaired the altar of the LORD, which was in ruins. 31 Elijah took twelve stones, one for each of the tribes descended from Jacob, to whom the word of the LORD had come, saying, "Your name shall be Israel." 32 With the stones he built an altar in the name of the LORD, and he dug a trench around it large enough to hold two seahs [a] of seed. 33 He arranged the wood, cut the bull into pieces and laid it on the wood. Then he said to them, "Fill four large jars with water and pour it on the offering and on the wood."

34 "Do it again," he said, and they did it again.

"Do it a third time," he ordered, and they did it the third time. 35 The water ran down around the altar and even filled the trench.

36 At the time of sacrifice, the prophet Elijah stepped forward and prayed: "O LORD, God of Abraham, Isaac and Israel, let it be known today that you are God in Israel and that I am your servant and have done all these things at your command. 37 Answer me, O LORD, answer me, so these people will know that you, O LORD, are God, and that you are turning their hearts back again."

38 Then the fire of the LORD fell and burned up the sacrifice, the wood, the stones and the soil, and also licked up the water in the trench.

39 When all the people saw this, they fell prostrate and cried, "The LORD -he is God! The LORD -he is God!"


If you missed it, look again—the reverence of Israel’s acknowledgment that the LORD is God and the repentance of turning their hearts back to Him again, are closely related. And what did they call for? Faces into the ground.

Is yours a posture of pride and callousness? Or one of reverence and repentance? Go ahead, get down. Or keep getting down. There Jesus will be found.

Grace to you, to fall flat on your face for the sake of the King,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

As a father I’m afforded the joy of taking my daughter on a guided tour of life, revealing to her the beauty of creation, pointing out how things both tangible and abstract work, and why. In fact, it’s one of my favorite things to do. I consider it a privilege. I have the opportunity to showcase life to this ‘blank slate,’ through my eyes, assisting her to see what I see and, ultimately, to love what I love. I easily recall the stage when she was just emerging from babyhood and beginning to more fully perceive the world around her. One of the things I delighted pointing her attention towards was the moon. For one, it’s a physical sight to behold, sleek and mysterious in its midnight luminescence, captivating in its contrast with the black canopy of the night sky. And I relish its spiritual symbolism—it’s nothing more than a giant ball of dirt that, when aligned with the sun, reflects the radiance of its glory. Ask anyone who knows me—I have a thing for gazing upward at a moonlit sky.

One night, when the moon was particularly full and rich with white light, I knelt next to Annie and extended my arm, my index finger, like an arrow perfectly pointed at its target (I even squinted one eye to ensure the angle was precise!). There was no way she could miss it. ‘Annie, look! See where Daddy is pointing? Look at the beautiful moon!’ My rapt attention shifted from the vast heavens to my little girl. But as my eyes landed on her, I was startled at the sight: Annie was looking intently at my pointer finger, completely missing the brilliance of moment. What gripped her innocent mind was the thing nearest her line of sight and, unfortunately, as a result, the majesty of the moon was lost on her altogether.

So it often is with my faith. So often I lock in on the finger, the things of God, and entirely miss the Person they’re pointing towards. Perhaps you can relate?

The problem is we almost can’t help it. We’re ‘human,’ easily distracted, constantly bombarded with material stimuli. Rarely do we open our eyes to see and savor the immaterial. And so we, like little Annie, often only see what’s nearest our line of sight—in this case, the tangible blessings of God. Little do we realize what’s behind it all. See, God, in His perfect will, pours out blessing upon blessing, but for a distinct purpose: that we would perceive Him, the Giver, and give praise. HE wants to be beheld. The forgiveness, the grace, the mercies, the love, the peace, the hope, in a way, even the salvation, serve as a pointer finger. That’s the main intent of their outpouring.

Like I said, I regularly marvel at the things at the expense of their Supplier. And there’s no doubt, I’m the loser in the transaction. God is literally sparing nothing to captivate my heart, to help me behold the majesty of Himself, and I can’t see beyond a foot from my face. Is that you too?

Let’s quickly look at the Story of the Prodigal Son. I’ve referenced it before, but consider it again. The son demands his inheritance, leaves his father, and blows it all in unbridled revelry. He ends up destitute, sitting in slop, contemplating what a fool he’s been, what his father would think. But he literally has no choice, so he emerges from the mud and returns to his father’s wide-open arms. Unfazed by his former irreverence, the father covers him with his finest robe, puts a ring on his son’s finger and orders the choicest calf slaughtered for the celebration of his homecoming. Quite a story, huh? What forgiveness. What grace. What a moving display of unconditional love. For sure. But here’s my point: the point of the story is, what a father! What a father! And what a Father we have in heaven! His grace, his mercy, his love—they are amazing, indeed, but they exist to point to a Person! And the Person to whom they point passionately wants us to relate to Him, to commune with Him, and to only utilize the stuff of Him as a means to get to Him!

There is a Creator behind the creation, a Giver behind the grace, a Great Physician behind the healing, a Prince behind the peace, a Savior behind the salvation.

Oh that we would not be so childish as to miss the majesty of Him for the fondness of the finger.

Grace to you, to behold the Blessed behind the blessings,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

We live in a day of extremes, do we not? Never have the rich been comparatively richer, the poor, poorer, and the chasm between the educated and the ignorant continues to widen. The path of truth and its contesting counterpart, namely the reality of the day, continues to diverge, with the road of the former being far, far less traveled. Then there’s religion. Competing worldviews, or better, ‘godviews,’ cause friction to the point of death, between those dutifully yet tamely attending Sunday or Sabbath services and those strapping a bomb to their chest in the name of religious obedience. Indeed, extremism defines the times.

And what’s at the root of all the tension? What’s the thing so hotly contested by word, by creed, by action? Truth. It’s at the center. It always has been; it always will be. Throughout the ages people have debated it, fought for it (or at least about it), lived for it and died for it. Who is God? Who shall we worship? And how shall we worship? Who has got it right and who is outright misled? Though it first appears these questions have largely fallen by the wayside, it only takes a second glance to see that’s simply not the case. Relativism may reign, but it’s still very much a stance one takes on what’s true and what isn’t. To its adherents, what’s true is there is no truth; each is left to his own moral and spiritual compass. This is, obviously, itself a truism.

It is against this backdrop, then, that we live and move and breathe. And it is exactly within this climate that fundamentalism (in its broadest definition) is so radical. Makes sense, right?

So here’s my argument: though it’s portrayed in an almost exclusively negative light, religious extremism or fanaticism or fundamentalism or whatever you want to call it, has gotten a bad rap. That is, if you ask Jesus. See, He’s always prescribed to the notion of fanaticism: exercising uncommon faith in the great and small. And not a day went by when he didn’t preach fundamentalism: that He was the Way, the Truth and the Life, and that no one reaches the Father but by Him. The question surfaces, then, why do we look at suicide bombers and polygamists with such wonderment? Are they not merely endeavoring to be faithful followers of their respective religions? Though most would contend their methods are misguided, their fanaticism, their fundamentalism, is exactly the kind of faith God requests and requires of you and me.

To better illustrate, let’s look at the healing account in Acts 3-4. In it, Peter and John encounter a forty-year-old man, a beggar, crippled from birth. When he asks the apostles for cash, they give him none. But they do offer him everything they have: the healing power of Jesus Christ. At their command the man immediately rises to his feet and confidently, albeit clumsily, follows them into the temple courts for all to see…and savor. The fact that this notoriously broke and broken beggar is leaping for joy on able legs is lost on no one. The crowd marvels, even praises God. But leave it to the religious leaders of the day to step in and try to sabotage the moment, the miracle. They ask, ‘By what power or what name did you do this?’ (chapter 4, verse 7) By the way, the question insinuated that the power of God wasn’t the cause of the cure (after all, these ‘godly’ clergy weren’t healing cripples by the command of their voice). But here’s where the story reaches its climax. In this very instant, fundamental, radical faith takes center stage. Peter, the subject of perhaps the biggest spiritual trip-up recorded in the Bible (denying Jesus three times within a few hours, once in His immediate presence), answers. He answers well, with boldness and in truth:

“Rulers and elders of the people! (note the exclamation point!) If we are being called to account today for an act of kindness shown to a cripple and are asked how he was healed, then know this, you and all the people of Israel: It is by the Name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified but whom God raised from the dead, that this man stands before you healed. He [Jesus] is ‘the stone you builders rejected, which has become the capstone.’ Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved.” (Acts 4:8-12)

You talk about an ‘in your face!’ And I’m not being trite. Peter, at great risk to his own well-being, emphatically condemns the religious leaders in his retort. He responds with strength, with zeal, but most importantly, in truth. There is no doubt here, Peter displays fanatical, yet fundamental faith. And God is glorified as a result.

It’s clear. God calls us to a faith that is staunch in its stance for truth (Truth). And think about why. If Peter were to have weakly or meekly replied to the underhanded accusation, if he hadn’t been able to find the words, or worse, denied his power source altogether, God would have been defamed. It would have been tragic. The onlookers would have walked away with less awe, with diminished hope. And the view of the absolute truth and might of the Almighty God would have been muddled, murky instead of magnificent.

God desires fanatical, fundamental faith because in it He is seen. In it He is savored. He requests this of His people. He requires this of His true people. And so we have the opportunity to answer life how Peter answered the Sanhedrin—with Spirit, and in truth.

After being released from jail Peter and John ‘went back to their own people and reported all that the chief priests and elders had said to them.’ (verse 23) Then they raised their voices together in prayer. Acts 4:31 is a poignant end to a purposeful story:

‘After they prayed, the place where they were meeting was shaken (shaken!). And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke the word of God boldly.’


Grace to you, to live a fanatical, yet fundamental faith, to the praise of His Name,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

11 "The multitude of your sacrifices—what are they to me?" says the LORD. "I have more than enough of burnt offerings, of rams and the fat of fattened animals; I have no pleasure in the blood of bulls and lambs and goats.

 12 When you come to appear before me, who has asked this of you, this trampling of my courts?

 13 Stop bringing meaningless offerings! Your incense is detestable to me. New Moons, Sabbaths and convocations—I cannot bear your evil assemblies.

 14 Your New Moon festivals and your appointed feasts my soul hates. They have become a burden to me; I am weary of bearing them.

--Isaiah 1:11-14

In most churches today, and in most Christian circles, doing good is the best thing anyone can do; following God’s guidelines, as offered in the Bible, is considered life’s most significant endeavor, and I would agree…to a point.

One widely agreed upon tenet is the act of giving, and particularly giving money to a church. In fact, the sermon I heard last Sunday was about tithing, an admittedly important topic to hit from the pulpit. The preacher, like none other I’ve ever witnessed, called the congregation to the carpet for its measly financial offerings. He asked, in so many words, ‘Are you tipping God, or tithing to Him?’ A good question no doubt.

Check out the verses above. It’s a quote, delivered through the lips of the prophet Isaiah, from the mouth of God. Apparently He was upset with His people. But why? At first glance, they were doing exactly what He commanded them to do: sacrificing their choicest animals, meeting in the Temple courts, honoring the Sabbath, participating in New Moon festivals. At first glance, they were steadfastly obedient. So what was with God’s displeasure? He commanded, they obeyed. What gives?

To put it simply, obedience, true obedience (obedience that pleases God), is a matter of the heart, not the head. Let me explain. God’s people knew exactly what He wanted them to do. The details of what to sacrifice and when, those were clearly recognized…and performed. But their heart wasn't in it. And it’s often the same today, is it not? Go to church on Sunday. Maybe even Wednesday. Read your Bible daily for 20 minutes…30 minutes if you really want to stand out. Give to the poor. Tithe your money. We’ve got it down, just like the ancient Israelites. But I ask you, as I examine myself, is God pleased with your offerings? Does He delight in your good deeds? I know we’d like to think so. After all, at least we’re doing something!

The truth is, God just may be tired of us, weary of our empty(?) rituals and offerings. See, to God, the aroma of our deeds, even the exact things He commands, can become odious depending on how or why we do them. If we ‘obey’ out of obligation, out of guilt, with an unengaged, resistant heart, we stir His disdain. And we don’t actually obey whatsoever. Remember, God detests the whitewashed tomb that can so easily be our life. Jesus’ harshest words were reserved for those who actually did the most ‘godly’ things. ‘These people honor me with their lips…but their HEARTS are far from me.’ See? Heart, not head. Relationship, not religion. There’s such a profound difference.

So, to the mirror I go. Do I do right? Do I perform with purpose? Honestly, and sadly, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I'm compelled to go to church because of what others might think if I skip it. Sometimes I give because I know I should. Sometimes I do ‘good’ with no purity at all. And what does God think? Don’t do it. Stay home. Put your checkbook away. I don’t want your ‘offerings.’  Harsh? Maybe. But to God, the motive matters that much.

God loves a cheerful giver. Cheerful, as in, from the heart. I believe the opposite is true: God loathes a cheerless one. And have you ever thought about why? If we do this thing or that, and we do so out of ritual, with no heart, we dishonor Him. Basically, if we’re strong-armed into action, not compelled by love, we make Him, and a relationship with Him, appear unattractive, like He’s nothing but a distant taskmaster. Not the Lover of our souls who longs for our intimacy.

Think of your relationship with someone you love. Do you do kind things for them because you’re supposed to? Do you write them a sweet little note only because you ought? And if you did, what would that say about your relationship? About him or her? No, the manifestations of love flow freely from the heart, making their object feel prized, treasured like no other.  So it is, or is meant to be, with our good deeds, our offerings to the Creator of the universe.

Let’s tie this up.

‘If you love me, you will obey my commands.’ --John 14:15

Only if we truly love, will we truly obey.

The heart of the matter: it’s a matter of the heart.

Grace to you, to love Him, and only then obey,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

‘…Hate what is evil...’            -Romans 12:9

‘…let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles…’

-Hebrews 12:1

Here’s another opportunity for self-examination, which, if done with honesty and proper motivation, is the backbone of sanctification (making oneself virtuous or chaste, and thus set apart). And don’t doubt it for a second, God wants us to be different. Our overarching purpose is to point to Him (through our differences), to His praise.

Have you ever thought about your personal view of evil? Generally speaking, most would say it’s ‘bad,’ even ‘ugly.’ But have you ever sat down and truly analyzed your heart, and how it handles evil? Do you despise and detest it? Are you abhorred by it? Or, as I would propose is more likely the case (it probably is for me), would your approach to it be better characterized as ‘largely indifferent,’ or ‘mildly put off'? Though it may not appear at first glance to matter all that much, what or how we think of evil has major repercussions on how differently we live this life and if we honor God.

Before going any further, let’s at least loosely define what ‘evil’ is. Romans 12:9 infers that it’s the opposite of good. That’s close. However, the best (simplest) way to define evil is, ‘that which is counter to God.’ This is admittedly a broad description, but it needs to be. Certainly evil has its nuances, it can show itself in varied forms, but its crucial characteristic is its polar opposition to the Almighty God. It’s safe to say that’s all we really need to know about it. Oh, but evil is powerful, much more so than you and me left to ourselves (which, thank God we’re not). After all, who is evil’s chief executer but Satan himself. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking to devour (1 Peter 5:8). Given this, and given the definition above (that it's inherently counter to God), our approach and/or response to it should be clear: resist it, run from it, treat it like the plague. Because to our soul, that’s exactly what it is.

Back to Romans 12:9. Paul doesn’t mince words. ‘HATE what is evil…’ Growing up reading this, I always thought, Isn’t ‘hate’ evil in itself? Simply, nope, it’s not. You’ve heard of righteous anger (think Jesus overturning the money-changing tables in the Temple), when it comes to evil, get used to the idea of righteous hate. Despise evil. Detest it. Abhor it. Why such a strong response? Again, it wreaks havoc on our soul, and more, that’s how God Himself sees it and deals with it. He is holy, pristine, perfectly pure; due to His nature, He literally cannot be around it or look upon it (two quick examples: flinging Lucifer and his fellow tainted angels from His presence; turning the sky dark when Jesus actually became our sin while on the cross).

Paul was on the same page with God. We would do well to be the same. Hate that which is evil—not the person, if that’s where it’s found, but the very evil itself. This sounds a bit wild, but if we were to grow in our hatred of evil, we would grow in our desire to abstain from it. Truly, then, the fuel of sanctification is, in part, the outright repugnance of evil. It at least contributes to the motivation to ‘throw off that which hinders, the sin that so easily entangles.’ If it’s so repulsive, cast it off, get rid of it, get away from it, run away from it, and fast.

Would you examine your heart with me on this? Do you loathe evil? Or do merely dislike it? It matters. And what do we do if evil is, on occasion, a friend? Pray. Pray that God would give you a heart like His, one that cannot stand even a whiff of its stench. And plead with the Holy Spirit to precisely align your affections with your Maker’s.

There is a dance being done here. As our disdain strengthens for that which is dark, we become, more and more, lovers of the Light. But more on that later…

Grace to you, to see evil for the God-defaming abomination it is…and stiff-arm it,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

You are worthy of affection

You’re the radiance of all of His glory

Let adoration fill this place

You hold everything together

By the word of Your immovable power

We sing a song of praise

                                    --Shane & Shane

Perhaps the chief flaw of society today is inaccurate value assessment. If that sounds odd or unclear, let me explain. The behaviors of our life necessarily convey the assigned value we give to this or that thing or person. Better, what we do, or don’t do, screams what we deem worthy, and conversely, that which lacks. So for some, doing whatever it takes to get a desired promotion at work—arriving early, staying late, maybe even slandering the guy or gal who’s a threat—evidences the unparalleled worth of career success. For others, a reunion with loved ones is cause for unrivaled excitement, showcasing the uncontested place of family in their life. The point is this: where our heart is, there is our treasure found. And like I first mentioned, unfortunately each of us are easily in the business of disproportionately valuing that which is here one moment, and gone the very next.

That’s the appropriate way to put it. It’s not that we assign worth to things that have absolutely none, it’s just that we give those things a disproportionate measure. Take work for example. Most of us are pretty tied up in it. We do it a lot (easily the majority of our waking life!). We often think about it when we’re not doing it. Sometimes we can’t even sleep because of it. And why? Because of what it gives us—power, prestige, a sense of accomplishment—or better, gets us—money, the capacity to purchase life’s luxuries. And because we value these things so greatly, often over and above everything else, our obsession is justified. Right?!

Another example of something we unduly weight with worth is family. That’s right, I said it. Though it’s undeniably one of life’s sweet gifts, for many it assumes a place of unsurpassed prominence. To these, nothing matters more. Nothing. Ticky-tack family squabbles, then, are monumental conflicts, and the dissolution of familial relationships? Quite literally, the end of the world. Everything in life, every decision, every action, every affection, every allegiance, revolves around family. It reigns undisputedly.

Now let me quickly reiterate that family, relationships, work, money, and the like do have value. They undoubtedly have worth. Just not nearly as much as we’re so prone to assign them. And this is exactly where we get off track, because when we overvalue certain things (the things of this world) we necessarily undervalue that which is of supreme worth, namely God. Sounds ‘churchy,’ doesn’t it? Like I get that God is God, and going to church and being ‘religious’ are virtuous endeavors, but really, what does that look like in the day to day? Shall I sew myself a burlap tunic and hit up the nearest monastery? How is treating Him as life’s ultimate treasure remotely practical? Answering these questions would be at least a start; most never get to asking.

If you get the chance, read Psalm 96. You could read a hundred others, but find this one in particular. Here are the first nine verses:

Oh sing to the LORD a new song; sing to the LORD all the earth! Sing to the LORD, bless His name; tell of His salvation from day to day. Declare His glory among the nations, His marvelous works among the peoples! For great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised; He is to be feared above all gods. For all the gods of the peoples are worthless idols, but the LORD made the heavens.

Splendor and majesty are before Him; strength and beauty are in His sanctuary.

Ascribe to the LORD, O families of the peoples, ascribe to the LORD glory and strength! Ascribe to the LORD the glory due His name; bring an offering and come into His courts. Worship the LORD in the splendor of holiness; tremble before Him, all the earth!

Each of us, meaning all of us, were created with an affectionate heart. We cannot, therefore, help but give affection; we cannot help but worship. But if we’re appropriately divvying our affections, the most and the strongest of them are landing at the feet of the Creator, not at the things He created, as good as some of them are.

This is the crux of life, the precise crosshairs of where we either ‘get it,’ or miss the mark entirely. God knew what He was doing beginning the Ten Commandments with the first: ‘You shall have no other gods before Me.’ It’s simple, to the point, but profoundly underscores our (the world’s) biggest issue. Who, or what, gets the throne in our life? Look no further than that which we value most. Look no further than that which enraptures our heart.

Join me, will you? Let us honestly examine our heart and ask, ‘Where lie my deepest affections? What do my actions say is most worthy to me? What does my time tell is most valuable?’

One last point. Our heart loves that which it knows well. The degree to which we know God directly affects the degree to which we love and worship Him. If we know little of His greatness, little of His works, if we’ve hardly experienced the sweetness of communion with Him, He will appear largely unworthy of our deepest affections. And we’ll live accordingly. But that will be a grossly mistaken perception. Conversely, if we read His word, if we hear of His great works and through them begin to understand what He’s done for us, and more, who He is, what starts as a flutter in our heart will erupt into unadulterated praise. And that will spill over into every area of life--work, family, whatever else.

And only then will everything be all right, how He created it to be: with Himself at the center, and nothing and no one else.

Oh matchlessly worthy LORD, open our eyes to see You, to see You for who You are. Draw us near; let us experience You, that we would be lovesick over You, and only You. Amen.

Grace to you, to see and savor Him,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

‘Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that lasts forever.’ 1 Corinthians 9:25

For whatever reason I’ve felt compelled of late to plan my own funeral. Seriously. I’m not quite certain if this means anything about my immediate fate or, perhaps more, the state of my head, but nonetheless it’s an endeavor I have an urge to complete. I want to be ready, prepared for when my last breath is breathed. So I’ve started to think about what songs will make the playlist and what the main message will convey in the farewell letter I wish to write.

All this, then, got me to thinking about what I was actually setting out to do: prepare for death. Or at least prepare for the ceremony commemorating it. My mind quickly settled on the potential folly of such a task, especially considering how ill-prepared I am for life, for the battle that is being waged, and most importantly, for the eternal life just down the road.

The Apostle Paul urges us to train, to be intentional in our preparation. The analogy he uses carries much weight. Athletes beat their bodies in order to compete and succeed in the arena, and they do so for the prospects of fading rewards: fame, notoriety, maybe a shiny piece of metal. In a similar way, followers of Jesus are to compete in the battle that is this life, which perpetually pits good against evil. They are to beat their flesh into submission, that their life would be effective, fruitful, lived by the Spirit, and this, for an eternal prize that will not spoil or fade.

The greatest enemy of preparation is unintentionality (that isn’t technically a word according to Webster, but it’s prominently listed in Ben’s Dictionary). Just a verse later Paul says, ‘Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air.’ (1 Corinthians 9:26) In other words, because of the everlasting nature of the reward at stake he will not live without purpose, he will not fail to prepare (and in doing so prepare to fail!). And let me add, he will not prepare willy-nilly or, pardon my French, half-assed. Quite the contrary. Verse 27: ‘No, I beat my body and make it my slave…’ To Paul, this is serious business (eternal life, remember?). Only a fool would take it lightly.

It’s no news that this life can lull you into overvaluing, and thus pursuing, that which ultimately does not matter. And it’s certainly easy to run through it at times aimlessly, without intention. But maybe that’s all the more cause for a brief pause, to slow the spinning down so we can think about what we’re doing and what does matter. God meant this life as a training ground or ‘training camp,’ if you will. The real season, the one that’s forever, is right around the corner and, if you’re anything like me, you’re maybe not in the best spiritual shape. Again, all the more reason to hit two-a-days hard, to proactively (purposely) put our faith through the flames, that it might come out refined…and ready.

None of us know the exact duration of ‘the games’ or when our individual camp is scheduled to conclude, so we can’t afford to procrastinate. The end of this life is coming; will we be ready to put on our long, white robe?

If you’re wondering, I am going to continue to plan and make preparations for my funeral…just not at the expense of doing so for my life (and the prize).

May God grant you grace and peace as you prepare,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

Have you ever wondered if you’re getting it right? Better yet, are you courageous enough to honestly consider whether you’re chasing after that which lasts, or instead the all-too-charming-yet-vain pursuits that quickly fade from significance over the course of this momentary life? I have. I do. And especially when death knocks on the door of someone ‘just down the street,’ so to speak.

My 73-year-old uncle Paul, more endearingly known as ‘Pablo’ to most, passed away last week after a noble fight against pancreatic cancer. And unlike many who’ve died far younger, Pablo lived a full, rich life. No, he wasn’t an ultra savvy investor or wealthy tycoon, but more the unassuming type, with a knack for befriending literally anyone. His family was, and still is, an interconnected web of love and support, one full of shared joys. My uncle was just one of those guys who left his mark on everyone he encountered; his kindness, his compassion (and his hearty chuckle) gave a lift to any room he entered.

And as it seems to often go, his death, and my mourning, got me to thinking. Will I be remembered some day how my uncle is now? Will people grieve my passing as a true loss? More, Will my life be characterized by genuine, unconditional love, as was my dearest uncle’s?

Many questions, I know.  But they point straight to love, and God’s (Peter’s) view of it:

‘Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.’  (1 Peter 4:8)

Above all… ‘Above all, love each other deeply.’ In other words, if you do anything, make certain you do this. If you don’t do anything else, do this. For in doing so, a multitude of sins are covered. I don’t know how that sounds to you, but to me it’s a breath of fresh air, an anthem of hope. Hope for me. Hope for a wretch. And hope for a simplified (focused) existence. See, there’s something about this exhortation that rings favorable, something that sounds really…well, realistic. Like this is something God-honoring that I can actually DO! For sure I’ve made monumental mistakes throughout my life, hurting God, myself and others, but in the face of them all, I just may be able to love others deeply and, somehow, in some way, amend for much of my waywardness.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. I initially thought the same thing. No, I don’t suppose I can, by my works (even my works of love), ultimately save myself from my sins. That would be lunacy…leading to deserved condemnation. But I know we can work out our [God wrought, Jesus bought] salvation with fear and trembling (and love), as did David, the man after God’s own heart, and my Uncle Paul. I do know that, even amidst a life of continual mistakes, littered with letdowns, we can overcome its heartache by living a life of love.

And you know what? If we do, people will take note—more than 700 broken-hearted friends and family members attended my uncle’s funeral. But, as the meaningless cliché goes, ‘that is what it is.’ Far more importantly, God will notice. He’ll notice how over and above obeying any of His other commands, you and I kept the one that fulfilled them all, the one most germane to His heart, the one expressly ratified to bring Him praise:

‘Love the LORD your God with all your heart, your soul, your mind and strength. And love your neighbor as yourself.’ (Matthew 22:37-39)

There is both hope and beauty in the simplicity of love. Will we, like Uncle Pablo, live in such a way that we're remembered for it?

Verse of the Week...Cross-travaganza

‘The Wonder of the Cross’
by Vicky Beeching?


O precious sight, my Savior stands,

Dying for me with outstretched hands.

O precious sight, I love to gaze,

Remembering salvation’s day,

Remembering salvation’s day.

Though my eyes linger on this scene,

May passing time and years not steal

The power with which it impacts me,

The freshness of its mystery,

The freshness of its mystery.


Chorus

May I never lose the wonder,

The wonder of the cross.

May I see it like the first time

Standing as a sinner lost,

Undone by mercy and left speechless,

Watching wide-eyed at the cost.

May I never lose the wonder,

The wonder of the cross.


If you recall, during Christmastime last year I wrote about seeking to revive the sense of awe with which we viewed the birth of Jesus as children, and experiencing their innocent delight, that which erupts freely from a joyful, unfettered heart. How easily the passing of time and the repetition of days, months and seasons can alter our approach to the most significant of holy days—and not for the better.

Well, Good Friday and Easter, once again, are here. Another holiday season filled with its own traditions and rituals and secular flair. And I would argue that, like at Christmas, we’re in need of refreshment (no, I’m not referring to the generic cookies and watered-down punch found in your church fellowship hall or basement!). Quite simply, our sense of wonder needs awaking. Because left alone, our eyes too easily linger on the scene without evoking an authentic response within.

Notice the stark contrast between an indifferent, milquetoast approach and that which is described by the chorus: ‘Undone by mercy and left speechless, watching wide-eyed at the cost.’ The sinless Savior died to forever remove our sin and impart to us His righteousness, satisfying once and for all the wrath of the one true, and just, God. If we’re understanding that with any breadth, if we’re feeling even a hint of that love in our hearts, how could we not be undone by His unmatched mercy? A better question: given the weight of what’s behind the cross, how could we keep our composure?

I don’t know who wrote the lyrics to this magnificent song, but frankly it doesn’t matter. Whoever did, wrote it as a prayer, even better, as a plea. ‘May I never lose the wonder, the wonder of the cross.’ The writer passionately petitions God to make it so. And we would do well to do the same.

Without wonder, there’s no worship. And at least for me, it’s no wonder it’s so difficult at times to truly worship, given my lack of wonder within. If you would, then, join me this weekend in pleading for God to give feeling to our all-too-insensitive hearts and focus our minds on the weight of the wooden cross, that we may ‘see it like the first time, standing as a sinner lost…’ And that the Father of Jesus Christ would receive our heartfelt praise, to the glory of His Name.


A wonder-full Good Friday and Easter to you,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD… 
--Jeremiah 29: 11a

Not only is God sovereign over the plan for your life and mine, He also governs the purpose for which He institutes these individual, yet interconnected, plans. In other words, God has a distinct motive behind all He ordains—namely, our holiness and His praise. Further, and perhaps more importantly for us, the imprint of His orchestration in our lives need not be grand, at least as we define it—for many it isn’t, for most it will never be. But no matter how great or small the outcomes of His divine direction, we can find fulfillment and satisfaction merely in His attention to our details. After all, the same God who stretched out the heavens and laid the foundations of the Earth has considered each of us—who we are and who we’re to become.

Now when most Christians search for the mark of the hand of God on their life, they often only look for the great and marvelous. Almost like if the evidence isn’t epic or the outward expression explicit, meaning drawing the attention of a crowd, then God wasn’t behind it. But nothing could be further from the truth. Sure there have been and will be times when God ushers certain individuals straight into the limelight to be His instruments of monumental change or movement, but His work in the much more ordinary and less heralded lives is still His work. No less purposeful. No less for His praise.

Maybe we need a better grip on this. Because if we’re blinded to His sovereignty by the light of His amazing works in and through the select few, we’re flat out missing out. We’re missing His unique, and equally significant, handiwork in our lives, certainly, but more importantly, we’re missing a major opportunity to praise the Great Conductor, robbing Him of due glory. This is simply not right. But how do we change? How do we cease to be thieves and, in view of the seemingly common, get down on our knees? There’s a two-part answer.

First, to embrace our holiness and declare His magnificence, we must simply acknowledge His often outwardly hidden orchestration. We’ve got to accept that we may not notice His perfect ordination much at all. And we’ve got to be okay with the possibility of never fully understanding why this or that did or didn’t occur in our life. Even more though, we must grasp that God’s purposes behind the trials of some are ultra recognizable in the eyes of the world (see the lives of Joseph or Moses or Paul), but some just aren’t…and they’re no less His purposes. Consequently, then, when God prescribes our hardship without the apparent trappings of ‘significance,’ He’s no less worthy of our worship, not by a long shot.

Secondly, we’ve got to pray that if God wouldn’t give us eyes to see His sovereignty, then He’d certainly give us hearts to understand it. So it boils down to the gracious gift of faith—helpings of which He’s steadfast to continually heap upon us should we ask. And not just faith to know He’s behind everything that happens, good or bad. But faith that He has a purpose for ordaining the job loss or disease affliction or premature death of someone close, though it may not be grand or glorious in our sight, if traceable at all. When we have this measure of faith we’re prepared to respond obediently to any hand God deals us. And when we do, we simultaneously evidence our holiness and lift His praise.

One quick aside before concluding. I made the point that, to us, God’s divine purposes for our suffering may seem insignificant, especially when compared to the grand stage to which similar hardships elevate others. But they are no less noteworthy to our God. When He examines His appointments for His children, great or small, all He sees are His appointments. All equally consequential. All equally glorious. All equally ordained for the praise of His Name.

Grace to you, to embrace His sovereignty in the seemingly great and small,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

This isn’t my first exposition of love. Far from it. It’s too rich, too complex to hit it out of the park with one swing. Plus, if the Bible is any indicator of its proper place in the lives of believers, we should be touching on it just about every other week (according to Biblegateway.com, it’s directly mentioned 697 times). No doubt Jesus did.

I’d like to begin, then, with a simple question. Why is love so important? Why is there so much emphasis on it as the summation of all God commands His people? Understanding the answer will, God-willing, compel us to further open our hearts to Jesus, first, and to those with whom we live this life: our family, our friends, our coworkers, our acquaintances, our enemies—all of which collectively make up the biblical category of ‘neighbor,’ as in 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'

Okay, so let’s talk about love. A human life of love, or one characterized by it, is of paramount signficance to God because He is love (I referenced this a few weeks ago; see 1 John 4:8). In other words, when we showcase true love we mirror our Maker, evidencing our creation in His image. Yes, we have eternity written on our hearts, but along with that we have love inscribed on it too—or at least the God-given capacity to give it, share it, feel it, receive it. So it matters to God whether we live a love-filled life because only in doing so does the created align with its Creator. Jesus even goes so far as to say that love is the mark of His true followers.

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. -John 13:34-35

So love is the God-described faith-meter of Christians—if our gauge reads 'Full,' we’re really one of His, if the needle sits on ‘E,’ Jesus would Himself declare us white-washed tombs. Most wouldn’t argue this, but to an extent, the question still remains: Why is it so important, as the Apostle Paul notes below, even more so than knowledge, wisdom, faith and good deeds alone? Love is supreme because it is the driving force behind all God-honoring action. It is powerful enough to break down societal and cultural barriers, strong enough to reconcile any conflict, and magnificent enough to portray, if not actually reflect, the gloriousness of God. After all, by God’s will, love is absolutely effectual; it never fails.

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing. –1 Corinthians 13:1-3

One last word to Christians (and I wholeheartedly include myself in this lot): as difficult as it is, as much as it goes against the grain of our flesh, we must, in the words of Lenny Kravitz of all people, let love rule. We must let it rule in our heart that we would let God reign over our life. And we must let it do so in the toughest of times, with the roughest of people. Especially then. Jesus makes an indicting point in the Gospel of Matthew:

If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? –Matthew 5:46

If we only love others who love us, if we only love others when they love us, nothing is different...and everything about that is problematic. God calls us to be separate, set apart, that He would be seen and savored. If we don’t love differently (or ‘truly’), if we don’t love radically (showing rich mercy, giving undeserved grace), we actually dim our reflection of the light of God’s glory—a deflating thought to lovers of His praise.

If you’re like me, you need help. But look no further than the verse below and pray the Spirit would let it rest heavy on your heart.

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. –Romans 5:8

While we were enemies of God, at our ugliest and when we were never less deserving, God displayed His love for us in the brutal slaying of His only Son. If, by the work of the Spirit, we can get an increasingly better handle on this in our heart of hearts, we’ll mature into genuine, selfless lovers—the kind that stand out in a self-absorbed world. Only then will the world take notice. And then, the only God, the God of true love, will be lifted up for all to recognize and revere.

Grace, and love, to you,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

The Advocate 

Before the throne of God above


I have a strong and perfect plea.

A great High Priest whose name is Love

Who ever lives and pleads for me.

My name is graven on His hands,

My name is written on His heart.

I know that while in Heaven He stands

No tongue can bid me thence depart.


When Satan tempts me to despair

And tells me of the guilt within,


Upward I look and see Him there


Who made an end of all my sin.

Because the sinless Saviour died

My sinful soul is counted free.

For God the just is satisfied


To look on Him and pardon me.


Behold Him there the risen Lamb,


My perfect spotless righteousness,

The great unchangeable I AM,


The King of glory and of grace,


One in Himself I cannot die.

My soul is purchased by His blood,


My life is hid with Christ on high,

With Christ my Saviour and my God!

--Charitie Lees Smith (1863)


This is my new favorite hymn. It’s full of rich, beautiful, inspiring theological ideas about Jesus’ advocacy for those who call Him ‘Lord.’ And while each stanza captivates, the single line that stands out from the rest goes: ‘No tongue can bid me thence depart.’ In other words, nothing, no one, can separate me from my Savior. Call it perseverance of the saints, call it what you will. There’s just something about this truth that makes me feel full, something about it that ushers in peace and security, and in doing so, casts out anxiety and despair.

I don’t know about you, but in my life there have been plenty of shameful moments, occurrences when my behavior or spoken words or thoughts leave me awestruck at my destructive capabilities and, in light of them, questioning, sometimes even of the safety of my salvation. In the wake of those times it seems many tongues bid me thence depart, as guilt-heaping accusations fly my way—some, if not most, from my own lips. It’s rough, to put it mildly, and somewhat of a spiritual crisis ensues when resulting doubt begins to mount and dejection settles in. It’s so true: Satan tempts me to despair, telling me of the guilt within me, bidding me, with all his might, to leave forever the forgiving arms of my Jesus.

Have you been there? It’s an awful place to be. The world around turns to gray, to gloom, my outlook dims and my heart grows calloused. And by my own dismissal, God seems eerily absent.

In this place a truthful word is needed. Better yet, the Truth, the Word, is needed. The Apostle Paul obliges:

‘But where sin increased, grace increased all the more…’ –Romans 5:20

Though our ears may not hear it, though our minds cannot conceive it, and though our hearts fight to disbelieve it, the veracity of Romans 5:20 remains. In our worst moments, when the grotesqueness or our sin surprises even us, grace increases. When we wrong others, when we sin against our body, the temple of God, when we break, destroy, wreck and ravage, it is precisely at these moments grace abounds most. The blood-bought grace, the kind only supplied by the Savior, is wholly sufficient to completely cover our worst. That’s why it’s so amazing. That’s why it’s so ‘of God.’

Because nothing outruns grace, nothing exceeds its reach, from the book of Romans there derives another glorious truth:

‘For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.’ –Romans 8:38-39

Hear that? Nothing will be powerful enough to pry us from His gracious grasp. And despite the damning utterances of others and our own whispers within, no tongue can bid us thence depart.

Indeed, Hallelujah! Praise Jesus, the God who by His death and resurrection made it so.

His steadfast, unending grace to you,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

I'm Gonna Make A Change,

For Once In My Life

It's Gonna Feel Real Good,

Gonna Make A Difference

Gonna Make It Right . . .

--Michael Jackson, Man in the Mirror

Tell me if you can identify. You’re cruising through your day, through your life, and out of nowhere, all of a sudden, you come upon a people or a person in the midst of great need, intense suffering. It overwhelms you. If not them, you look their condition in the face and you pause. Emotions flood your heart. Maybe tears flood your eyes. At the least, questions flood your mind: 'What can I do? Could I help? I mean really help? In light of the situation, would my response even make a dent? After all, I’m just me—one person.'

I can’t count how many times these questions have gotten the best of me. Case in point: A few nights ago I’m watching a telethon, run by Hollywood celebs, raising funds for recovery efforts in Haiti. They’re asking for donations, and not for big, impressive gifts, not for thousands of dollars, but even $20, from anyone willing and able to spare it. Further, viewers can send a text message to a special number and give $10 to the cause. As much as I hate to admit it, the aforementioned questions began flowing: 'The devastation in that place is catastrophic; what is it going to matter if I give $10? I want to help these people, I do, but is my paltry offering even going begin to make a difference?' Again, it shames me to write this. It does. But it’s true.

A few weeks ago I wrote about how change is possible. I suggested that in order to make life better, to make the world a better place, all we need is love. And God is love, so all we need is God. That remains my suggestion, but I need to expand. That concept is the what, if you will; I want to talk about the how, because theories only hold weight to the extent to which they’re applicable.

This week’s ‘verse’ is actually the lyrics of the late-Michael Jackson’s Man in the Mirror. It’s far and away my favorite MJ song. Why? Because, when so often we’re encouraged to deflect or shift responsibility to someone or something else, it compels us to take a stand--to look in the mirror when we ask who should act, who should help, who should respond to need.


I'm Starting With The Man In The Mirror

I'm Asking Him To Change His Ways

And No Message Could Have Been Any Clearer

If You Wanna Make The World

A Better Place

Take A Look At Yourself, And

Then Make A Change


So true, right? Let me point something out though. The song insists we take a look at ourselves and make a change. And although it seems at first glace to imply we look in the mirror, assume responsibility, and then go out and make a difference, I don’t think that’s what it’s saying, at least not in full. See, I believe a change needs to occur within us first, far before it will occur in our world. What is it? We (certainly I) need a change in mentality, a shift in perspective. I need to experience a transformation in my thought process if I’m ever to be an agent of transformation in the world. Namely, I must see and value the difference I can make, regardless of how small or seemingly insignificant. If my mantra becomes, ‘A small difference made is still a difference made,’ my former paralysis is cured and I’m compelled to action. But I need God to make this change. Really, I need Him to do this work; if left up to me, I’ve proven, time and again, it won’t get done.

For a brief moment, think if everyone thought this way. Think of the possibilities. Now stop that thought. Stop it right now. And join me in taking a spot in front of the nearest mirror to see with whom it all begins. It starts with me. It starts with you. And ultimately, it doesn’t matter what anyone else does or doesn’t do.


A Willow Deeply Scarred,

Somebody's Broken Heart

And A Washed-Out Dream

They Follow The Pattern Of The Wind, Ya' See

Cause They Got No Place To Be

That's Why I'm Starting With

Me


How about you?

Grace to you, as you look in the mirror,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

Martin Luther King Jr.: Modern-Day Moses

Over 3,000 years ago, Moses, the Hebrew prophet called by I AM, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, led the people of Israel out of Egypt’s grip, through the Red Sea and into the wilderness, and finally, after much testing and tribulation, right up to the perimeter of the Promise Land. But he did not enter. He could not. It was not God’s will for him to do so. Instead, in a speech reiterating the Law of God (the biblical book of Deuteronomy), Moses bid the people he’d given his life to lead farewell, parting them at the gate to paradise to ascend Mount Nebo, literally, to meet his Maker (Deuteronomy 34:1).

He was a great man, a man on whom God’s favor rested heavily. He was the epitome of a leader, not without fault of his own, yet ever the commanding presence and voice Israel desperately needed to help it endure, and ultimately break, the shackles of its slavery to the mighty Egyptians. He was a man full of wisdom, full of the very grace of God Himself.

Some 3,000 years later came another man, another leader, another on whom Divine favor rested. He, too, was called by this same God, but to lead a different people. And he too humbly yet powerfully led them, right up to the fringes of freedom, to their own promise land. Like Moses, he didn’t fully enter, for God did not ordain it so. This man, Martin Luther King Jr., gave his own stirring farewell speech, one which in hindsight proved eerily prophetic. As Dr. King knew full well his road would soon end, he embraced its harrowing halt, facing it head-on with the God-inspired courage of another King—Israel’s David.

Be gracious to me, O God, for man tramples on me;
 all day long an attacker oppresses me;
 2 my enemies trample on me all day long,
 for many attack me proudly.
 3 When I am afraid,
 I put my trust in you. 
4 In God, whose word I praise, 
in God I trust; I shall not be afraid.
 What can flesh do to me? 5 All day long they injure my cause; all their thoughts are against me for evil.
 6 They stir up strife, they lurk;
they watch my steps, 
as they have waited for my life.
 7 For their crime will they escape?
 In wrath cast down the peoples, O God! 8 You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. 
Are they not in your book?
 9 Then my enemies will turn back 
in the day when I call.
 This I know, that God is for me.
 10 In God, whose word I praise,
 in the Lord, whose word I praise,
 11 in God I trust; I shall not be afraid.
 What can man do to me?

(Psalm 56: 1-11, italics mine)

Take note of this man--his fervor, his focus, his passionate pursuit to fulfill the unique purpose for which God uniquely created him. If the day off from work didn’t serve to conjure these thoughts, to elicit reminiscence and heartfelt homage, allow the YouTube clip below to do just that. Let it enrapture you for a moment, encouraging you as it did me, to get a grip on God, on His grace, and on the feebleness of man to even come close to touching our soul. He cannot, for God wills it not—to the praise of His Name. Watch closely King’s brazenness towards bodily harm, that you might adopt, like him, such a godly perspective on life. Really, if God is for you, who can be against you?

Grace,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

‘…God is love.’ --1 John 4:8b



At this point, if you watch any TV at all, you’ve probably seen the Blackberry advertisement above or at least some form of it (if you haven’t, click the link!). I don’t know about you, but I love it. I love the hopeful and heartwarming message it conveys, that nothing is impossible, that anyone is capable of greatness, of overcoming odds, of fulfilling their purpose—all we need is love. And I couldn’t agree more.

I believe we’re capable of much. I believe we can offer much. And I believe we can change much. But not because of us really, more because of love. Check out 1 John 4:8b. ‘…God is love.’ I used to think this merely meant God was a loving God, full of love, One characterized by that crazy little thing. But the best way to look at this verse is at face value: God is love, in the most literal sense. So wherever true love (there is counterfeit love) is found, God is there, because He is love. Applying this truth to the John Lennon-penned song, then, would make it sing: ‘All you need is God. All you need is God. All you need is God, God. God is all you need.’

It all comes together, does it not? ‘There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done.’ And that’s because of the underlying premise: simply, all you need is God. With Him, nothing is beyond achievement, nothing is outside our reach. The converse, however, is also true. Without Him, we’ll struggle to do just about anything. Jesus, in the Gospel of John, puts it a bit more bluntly:

5I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. --John 15:5

 It’s straight and to the point. There is opportunity for change—change for the better. Better relationships. A better life. A better world.

All we need is love.

All we need is God.


Grace to you,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

3 Therefore tell the people: This is what the LORD Almighty says: 'Return to me,' declares the LORD Almighty, 'and I will return to you.'   -Zechariah 1:3

Lately God has been putting the concept of repentance at the forefront of my mind. Uh-oh, right? Well, nevertheless He has, so verses like the one above have been jumping off the page. And as I’ve been pondering what it truly means to repent of sin, to turn from it and to God, I’ve realized this is an act not directly spurred by Him. Unlike the Spirit’s proactive pursuit of the hearts of men for their renewal and resulting salvation, repentance is largely left up to us, to our will.

Time after time, the Bible refers to drawing near to God, seeking Him out (‘Come near to God and He will come near to you,’ James 4:8; ‘Ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you…’ Matthew 7:7), but I’m beginning to believe this has much more to do with repentance, post-acceptance of Jesus, than it does with the believer’s initial regeneration. Now, I’m not stating this as undeniable fact, but it does make theological sense. If man is dead in his sin, without the breath of spiritual life within, he’s probably not going to be knocking down God’s door, right? And he’s not going to be inclined to draw near to the Holy of holies, especially given his shameful state. So this is where repentance comes in. The man within whom the Spirit of God dwells, on the other hand, comes to grips with his waywardness, with his affections gone awry, with his valuing of the worldly at the expense of the Godly (the root of all sin), and he feels compelled to turn, change, and reengage with a God that’s been waiting patiently for him the entire time. Think The Return of the Prodigal (painted by Rembrandt, above). The father didn’t pick up his tents and take off when his son chose revelry over righteousness; he stayed in the familiar place, waiting there to be found, longing for his lost one to, you got it, repent and return to him, and to the son’s promised, imperishable inheritance.

Okay, but why? Why does God let His children wander, at times, outside the fold altogether? And when we do so, why does He wait for us to come back to Him? No shock, I believe it has much to do with His glory. While God gets the credit for reviving our spiritually lifeless hearts in the first place, He also receives praise when His children choose to repent and return to Him of their own volition. So, very simply, He’ll wait. He’ll let you and I take the initiative to do an about-face. And He’ll get the glory as He wins out as most desirable, over and above that which we'd been flirting with.

Repentance, then, is a unique opportunity to worship the God whose kindness brings us back for more of Himself, whose loving arms once again break our fall, whose gracious grip never truly lets us go.

Join me, if you will, in reverencing the King of kings. Join me in repentance.

Grace to you,

Voice of another