I saw a glimpse of heaven this week.  We're in India, looking at the power that a school run by Christians can have in impacting the problem of human trafficking.

In a nutshell, India's Dalit caste—the lowest of the low--represents the vast majority of sex slaves in India.  Because the Dalits are so poor, they are often unable to afford schooling for their young.  Lacking the social network (safety) a school experience provides, these girls, whose parents are out working, become easy prey for the traffickers.

Enter the Good Shepherd Schools—a growing network of English Medium Schools.

Operated by Christians, these affordable schools make possible an education for children who would otherwise not have access.  With an education, girls learn valuable business skills.  They are much less prone to be caught up in the ugly web of human trafficking.

So we were visiting one of these schools that Friends Church of Yorba Linda, California has helped sponsor.  Getting out of the van, we were met by a drum corps and small band.  Our team walked a corridor flanked by girls in festive dresses, showering us with orange and yellow flower petals.  There was applause, confetti—even fireworks--in this tribute of thanks recognizing what Friends Church has done.

The thought struck me almost immediately in the hot sun of a Bangalore morning.  This is a picture of heaven!  This is a small taste of what it will be like to join the crowd of witnesses we read about in Scripture.  The music, the pageantry the colors....surely this is a preview image of the heaven we will someday enjoy.

The only dark cloud in this otherwise sunny picture? The sobering question: Exactly how much am I investing my life now in causes that heaven will celebrate?

The Bible tells us, “What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived” the things God has prepared for those who love him—“

So...how much do I love Him?  How much do you love Him? How much of a celebration will be yours and mine in heaven?

They say the best actors don't act.  They are simply absorbed into the character they portray.  I had a taste of that during a recent tour of the Herod exhibit at Jerusalem's Israel Museum.
 
For years, I've had a fascination with Herod the Great.  Many know him only as the king in the Christmas story who executed Bethlehem's baby boys.  And make no mistake—Herod was ruthless, even vicious, toward any perceived threat.
 
But Herod the Great, for all his evil, was also a great architect, a great builder, a great visionary.   He loved color, beauty and luxury. 
 
All these qualities are in abundance at the Israel Museum's Herod exhibit.  As you wind through the maze of amazing displays, you see wall frescoes, elaborate window frames, intricate tile work.
 
On one wall, we marveled at the exquisite detail in a colorful painting depicting a naval battle.  At our feet, the black and white checkerboard pattern of a tile floor in mint condition.  There were artistically shaped clay jars still labeled with their exotic contents.   We are now fully absorbed—almost lost--in Herod's lavish lifestyle. 
 
Finally, there's the dark rotunda containing the stone sarcophagus of Herod the Great.   It's made of a reddish limestone that shines like marble (I actually touched the engraved floral pattern).
 
But peering at the box that held Herod's body, I was immediately blasted with a recollection of Hebrews 9:27: “It is appointed unto men once to die and after this the judgment.”
 
In life, he was Herod the Great.  But as for eternity, barring a death bed conversion, he will be Herod-The-Late.  Too late to receive the gift of God which is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.  The question is—what about YOU?
 
All the wealth and wonder of this world will be of no consequence when we stand at last before God Almighty. All that will matter is our relationship with the Jesus Herod tried to kill as an infant. Do you know that Jesus as your Savior?

If holidays had families, Thanksgiving would be the unwanted stepchild.  Thanksgiving lacks the Hallmark beauty of Christmas and the Dick Clark fun of New Year's.  With stern-faced buckle shoed pilgrims as the holiday's heroes, nobody decorates their home with Mayflower lights.  Nor do we take part in Puritan parties.  Thanksgiving doesn't lend itself to much of that, so we don't lend much of ourselves to it.   Thanksgiving really is the overlooked stepchild.

Consider the way Thanksgiving is treated at national retail stores: hardly at all. Outnumbered by mountains of Halloween candy and masks, Thanksgiving is lucky to get a small display of any kind.  And because this stepchild holiday has the misfortune of falling so close to Christmas, it must be picked up, packed up and swept up…to leave room for Christmas.

But the real problem with Thanksgiving isn't the way it's treated in our stores.  It's how it’s treated in ourselves.   Gratitude—the core message of Thanksgiving--is neither fun nor easy for most of us.

• Gratitude demands intentionality.
• Gratitude demands humility.
• Gratitude runs against the grain of our prideful self-sufficient selves.

Who likes a holiday that requires effort?

What fun is there in self-discipline and intentionality?

How can we get “unbooked” from the annual guilt trip we face, knowing we’re honestly not that thankful—at Thanksgiving or ANY time of year?

But I think we're asking the wrong questions.

What we SHOULD be asking is “What is it that really made the pilgrims tick?”  “Where could WE get a supply of their indomitable courage—the stuff that lead them to leave everything behind to follow Christ?”

Experienced in that light, Thanksgiving—the unwanted holiday stepchild—might just be one of the grandest of them all.

A  tuna sandwich and a Coke.  Such an ordinary lunch after such an extraordinary morning.  As I sit at a cafe overlooking Jerusalem, I am pondering an earlier walk down what is known to millions as the Via Dolorosa.  “The way of suffering” is the route Jesus walked through Jerusalem carrying his cross.

The thing of it is, the Via Dolorosa today is the way of shopping and dickering and shouting.  The most common form of suffering is sore feet and aching backs.  It's tough to imagine the real Jesus dragging a real cross up and down the hilly path these people call a street.

Ultimately that path leads to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.  If you've yet to visit, the church is a darksome foreboding structure, its cavernous blackness as eager to swallow all light as it is all hope.  Despair perfumes the air as your eyes adjust to the shadows.

Up a steep winding staircase, a barely controlled mob is cued up to pray or genuflect or ponder at the “exact spot” (so they say) where Christ's cross was hoisted.

As I walked through the church's massive doors back out into the sunlight, I encountered a woman who was weeping.  Tears dribbled down her cheeks as the weight of her experience squeezed hard on her emotions.

And suddenly, I was ashamed.  How could I—a follower of Jesus Christ—walk through this church and be so little moved?  When—if ever—have I truly wept over the agony Christ took upon Himself for me?

Of course, no one should be guilted into feeling an emotion.  But perhaps my lack of tears   is evidence I have thought too little of Him for whom no thanks is too much.

For Moody Radio, those are my thoughts, and I'm Jon Gauger.

Behold: the banana! High in potassium, bananas are great for preserving your eyesight and accelerating bone growth—not to mention warding off kidney cancer.

I like bananas…but this humble fruit has always amazed me. If you put any other food item remotely close to a banana… it ends up tasting like…banana!

Put a banana in your lunch box next to a ham sandwich…and the ham tastes like banana. So do your potato chips—and your Oreo cookies.

Recently, my wife put a left over slice of cinnamon coffee cake next to some bananas for just a few hours. Guess what it tasted like. You got it—banana coffee cake. Mind you, by the time I ate the coffee cake, it had been two days since it had been anywhere near a banana! Yet the effects of that banana contact were still evident in the fragrance and taste of the coffee cake.

Clearly there is some sort of chemical reaction going on here with incredibly powerful results—in favor of the banana. 1:00

Could I suggest the banana is a great model for the effect that Christians ought to have on non-believers. II Corinthians 2:15 “For we are a fragrance of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing.” 1:15

When someone spends just a few hours with us, they ought to leave having the aroma of Christ all over them…just from being with us!

Now think of what this means for our unsaved friends. Just by being with us—we who know and love Christ—leave something of a spiritual fragrance on their souls.

There are two cautions here in this wonderful scenario.
Number one—the fragrance that people are left with better be the fragrance of Christ…other than stink of self.

Number two…even if we are living a godly life, unless we get up close to…involved with people who don’t know Jesus, how can His fragrance wear off on them?

Let’s be involved with friends, family and coworkers who don’t know Christ.

And let’s start living with the expectance that His fragrance really will rub off on them!