Category: Thursday Thought

Easter is in the air, which means there's a spring in our step. Enough spring that many evangelicals are prepared to hop right over Good Friday.  Again.

We love to celebrate Christ's victory over sin and death—as we should.  But is it possible we shortchange the sufferings of Christ on Good Friday?  Wouldn't you agree there is no point to the victory party, if you don't—or won't—embrace the struggle that came before?

Not Good at Doing Somber

It's a peculiar observation of mine that we evangelicals, for the most part, are just not good at doing somber.  Or pensive.

Look at the category of songs we call Contemporary Christian Music.  Most of all these tunes involve boosting our hands, thwopping our drums and surging up and down whilst holding a guitar or bass.  Thoughtful music lacks the bubble gum snap of “Praise and Worship.”  We are postiviely uncomfortable with pauses and silence in group prayer. 

For the most part, we just don't do somber. Introspection lacks the sizzle needed for digital billboards and PowerPoint transitions.  

Of course, much of this is driven by our culture.  Chocolate eggs and pastel bunnies are the distilled essence of our secularized celebration of Easter. 

Culture Trumping the Church?

We buy Easter candy, not Maundy Thursday bitter herbs.

We buy Easter dresses, not Good Friday sackcloth. 

But since when does the culture trump the church?

When Jesus said, “Remember me,” He intended a whole lot more than plastic cups and grape juice and factory-perfect bread chiclets.  He meant every staggered step of His cross bearing walk.  He meant every swing of the executioner's hammer.  He meant every ghastly cry from the cross.  And yes, He meant the brilliance of the angel sitting at the entrance of His empty tomb.  

I am all for a raucous, rollicking shout of joyful worship this Easter Sunday.  But we dare not shrink or trivialize that glory by avoiding the agony of Good Friday.  

For Jesus—and His followers—there has never been a crown without a cross.

And that is why we must linger over Good Friday.

 

 

 

 

How do you celebrate your birthday?  

Some dine at a special restaurant. 

On my birthday, (which happens to be my Mom's birthday, too) Diana bakes a spectacular apple cake—loaded with cinnamon.  This is I adorn with a mountain of whipped cream.

I was recently let in on a birthday celebration from 1894.  They recorded it!  (at least part of it). 

Before mp3 files or CDs or vinyl records, people recorded audio by speaking into a metal “horn” that recorded onto a small wax cylinder (about the size of a large can of peaches).   The sound was scratchy, but it did the job.

Recording from 1894 Birthday!

In the amazing book and compilation, Waxing the Gospel, the October 22^nd, 1894 birthday of one Joseph Sawyer was recorded.   As you listen, you hear Joseph himself give the date and announce in a strong voice, “This is my seventy-first birthday, and I am very glad to see my children and grandchildren here.”  His children, and grandchildren then all offer a short tribute.

His wife follows singing a verse of her husband's favorite hymn, Rock of Ages.  Then…amazingly…the entire family gathers around and boldly sings the Doxology:

Praise God from whom all blessings flow….

Born in 1823

Think of it.  I was listening to the celebration of a man born in 1823.    Thomas Jefferson was still alive.  D.L. Moody had not yet been born.  The Civil War was nearly four decades away.

Of course, God heard this all “live.”  I only heard it recorded.  But you know, I'm wondering if Joseph Sawyer would mind if I borrowed his Doxology idea, should God grace me with another birthday.   I'm guessing not.

So dust off your hymnal.  Loosen up those vocal cords.  We'll plan to sing then, Lord willing!

How good are you at giving to God?

This week, I was schooled by an eight year old.

Joslynn and I sat down to play “Money Matters for Kids,” developed by Christian Financial Concepts.  The game feels a lot like Monopoly, but with entirely different objectives.

Your goal as you wind your way around the game board is to set aside enough money that you can give away $30, save enough to pay for a toy you want, and also have enough cash on hand to pay for living expenses.

Too Focused on Winning

Naturally, I wanted to win the game, so when I had amassed the $30 for giving (but not yet fulfilled the other game requirements) I confess a sense of disappointment when my roll of the dice landed me on the “Give to Church” square.  Too focused on “winning”—I regretted having to start again from scratch.   

By contrast, I watched as Joslynn landed repeatedly on the same spot on the board.  But her reaction upon learning she would surrender her saved up cash was, “Great!  Look how much I can give away!”  I wish you could have sat there on the carpet with us to see the smile on her face.   At one point she gave $50, then $8.  At another moment I heard her count out (excitedly) “90 dollars!  Yay!  I get to give 90 dollars!”

My Inner Grump

Her bubbly enthusiasm was a contrast to my inner grump. You may be tempted to chalk all of this up to the innocence of youth, presuming that Joslynn does not fully understand the value of a dollar.  Not so. She does chores, saves her money—but gives it freely.  

Of course, anyone can be generous playing with fake money rather than real green. Yet this same eight year old was recently at a Cracker Barrel restaurant and bought a toy for her two siblings as well as herself!

If it’s true that “God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Corinthians 9:7) then life’s ultimate winners are those who give with the biggest smile. 

Thanks for the lesson—and that huge smile, Joslynn!

 

Each one must do just as he has purposed in his heart, not grudgingly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.  –2 Corinthians 9:7

As my fingers tap the keyboard creating this blog, my mouth is munching the last of a blueberry Pop Tart. I’m no addict, but I confess to enjoying the lard-laden lusciousness of a Pop Tart. Blueberry is my flavor of choice. 

But as I hold the toaster-hot pastry in my hand, a new twist on an old favorite has caused me to do a bit of critical thinking.  When Pop Tarts first came out, they were touted as being filled with real fruit.  We were far less critical of sugar back then.  Hydrogenated oil was a familiar friend and who had even heard of Trans fats?.    So while no one would have suggested the Pop Tart was highly nutritious, it was generally deemed a worthy snack.  

Now with Sprinkles!

After a few years, Kellogg’s decided to add frosting.  Ka-BAM!  That created serious snack waves, and to this day, Pop Tarts remain Kellogg’s’ most successful brand in the United States!  Yet I couldn’t help but notice munching on mine a moment ago, that the frosting is different.  It now also features sprinkles!  Plain ol’ frosting is just WAY too boring.  Gotta kick things up a notch.   Who would possibly want a Pop Tart adorned with regular frosting?

I sometimes wonder if we’re not that way in our Christian walk—specifically our daily quiet time with God. 

Fast, Fun and Frosted

We unwrap our one-minute-with-God devotional, pop it into our souls and move on with our day.  We are unnourished, unaffected, and unconcerned. When it comes to our time with God, we like it fast, fun and frosted. 

Is it any wonder that we are largely unmoved by sin?  That we are so much like the world?  That we fail to tithe?  That we avoid sharing our faith?    That we watch R-rated films and TV shows and sense no filth?  That we are unable to make a case for biblical sexuality or the sanctity of life?

Tozer says, “God can be known satisfactorily only as we devote time to Him.”

Here’s to reaching for more than a mere Pop Tart Christianity. 

Yes, Virginia, there really is an Ohio—in Illinois.  The little town boasts no more than 550.  But heading south on Route 26, Ohio is merely a navigation marker, not a destination. We’re in search of an even smaller berg known as Kasbeer (pronounced with a Long “A”).

As the town and its sign are easily missed, look for its two largest landmarks.  To the east towers the Kasbeer grain elevator, and much closer to the highway is the white steeple tower of the Kasbeer Community Church.   Its stain glass history is filled with generations of my wife’s family.

The white steeple tower

Like all old buildings, Kasbeer Community Church has its own set of unique smells reminding you you're home.  Sunday morning hymnal selections are posted on two antique wooden boards on either side of the auditorium.  On the back wall, the ancient gears of a circular Seth Thomas electric clock grind a sort of white noise.  A four-paddled ceiling fan twirls slowly from on high with doubtful effectiveness.   The blue and green basket weave carpet looks the same as it did the day Diana and I got married.   

As for the service itself, Pastor Eric did a capable job preaching from Luke 4 in a sermon he titled, “The Authority of Jesus.”   Then followed communion and I couldn’t help but notice the cups were made of glass, not plastic.

Dare not ever forget

In an age where so many churches are immersed in lighting rigs, fog machines and video walls, the lack of technology was actually therapeutic (this from an admitted techno geek).  Imagine church without a bass guitar.  Or one single drum.  Some may doubt it’s even possible.  Not only is it possible, it was actually refreshing.  Like glass, rather than plastic.

Nothing wrong with technology.  Were Jesus to minister today, He would likely use a wireless mic—and maybe even PowerPoint. But power has never been in our technology.  And the point ought always to be Jesus and His gospel. We dare not ever forget that. 

I have a plan for making America great!

It has nothing to do with Donald Trump or the Republican party or the Democratic party either.

It has everything to do with the simple biblical premise of Psalms 33:12, “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.”  Now, follow my logic.

The only way any nation can rightly be described as one “whose God is the Lord” is if the dominant voice and view of that nation is God-honoring.   The only way that will happen is if the majority of us seek to please God by making others aware of His offer of salvation and a redeemed way of living.

Solution lies with us!

What I’m saying is, the solution is not in the impossible mists “out there somewhere.”   The solution lies—in large part—with us.  The way to make America great is to make Christ magnified! This happens as you and I share Christ with our neighbors through godly lives, uncommon kindness and words of witness. 

It is not enough to merely “live the life” or “walk the walk.”  Jesus did not merely do good deeds.  He spoke the gospel message.  And so must we. 

• We are saddened by the unraveling of morality in America…but do we share Christ?
• We are shocked by the violence in our cities and neighborhoods…but do we share Christ?
• We are depressed by the greed and gouging that describes not just corporate America…but most of America…yet do we share Christ?
• We are fearful of a segment of immigrants we think might bring destruction…but do we share Christ?

One more time…

When we choose to share Christ, we will surely be much closer to “that nation whose God is the Lord.”  Look for less crime.  Less greed.  Less immorality.  Less poverty. Just a few benefits of living in a nation whose God is the Lord! 

We must share Christ.  Not to make America great…but to magnify our God!

Carl Henry said, “The gospel is only good news if it gets there in time.” 

Isn’t it time we made time…to share Christ in America?

The idea was doomed from the start. In a well-intentioned attempt at physical fitness, I agreed to play racquetball with my son, Tim, Five weeks afterward, my throbbing back still reminded me I shouldn’t have even attempted playing “just a game or two.”  Ouch! It’s one thing to overdo it in sports, but what about the rest of life?

In the book, “If I Could Do It All Over Again,” I asked 28 Christian leaders what would they do less of, given a second chance. Check out these responses.

Less News

Joni Tada admitted, “I would look at a lot less news on the television. I have to confess I’m a news junkie. That’s not a bad thing. It’s just that sometimes it becomes a fixation. It can depress my spirits.”

Ravi Zacharias commented, “I wouldn’t worry as much. God is completely in control.”

Tim Keller says, “I would do less surfing of the Internet, without a doubt. I think the Internet is a friend of information but an enemy of thought. It’s great at snippets of information, but it doesn’t help you think or reason.”

Fewer Movies

George Verwer told me, “I would watch fewer movies. I think some of the films I watched were definitely a waste of time. But the main thing I would like to do less of is sin!”

Tony Evans shared, “I love sports: watching sports and keeping up with sports. But I would probably spend a little less time on sports if I could do it all over again. Plus, I would have traveled a little less.”

Less Critical

Bob Moeller confessed,” I would be less critical of other people. The older I get, the more I realize I haven’t lived other people’s lives. I haven’t been through what they have been through.”

In a culture that practically screams, “Do more!” the notion of doing less is tough to embrace. We are driven––and proud of it. Yet, ironically, for most of us, the only way to be more for Christ is to do less.  Let’s take for our personal vision statement the humble words of John the Baptist, who said of Jesus, “He must increase, but I must decrease” ( John 3:30).

Went to a funeral this week.    A lady my wife had known growing up.  Let's call her Natalie (not her real name).

By the way, have you noticed the way technology has invaded funeral homes?  Gone are the days of the old organ parked in the corner.  Respectable funeral homes now have electronic keyboards.  Forget that old fashioned paper registry book you used to sign to let the grieving family know of your visit.  More often than not these days you’ll sign an iPad.

Instead of mere poster boards sporting yellowed photo collections, most funeral homes today will scan those photos and make them into a DVD that plays at the visitation or memorial service.

Predictable and nostalgic

Such was the case at the funeral home where we found ourselves in Bureau County, Illinois.  The slide show was everything you'd expect.  We saw pictures of Natalie as a young girl growing up in very rural Wyoming, Natalie with her siblings, then Natalie getting married. Next it was snapshots of Natalie's own children…family vacations…various churches where she and her husband ministered over the years.

Punctured my balloon of tranquility

All of this was entirely predictable and nostalgic.  Then I saw something on the screen that punctured my balloon of tranquility–a photo of Natalie volunteering in a home for children who happen to have Down syndrome.   Natalie was seated at a table, surrounded by a bunch of mentally challenged guys.  The slide on the screen showed arrows and names pointing to two of these boys.  One arrow pointed to "Chucky" and the other identified "Peter."  Both were smiling. Both were having a grand time.   And both were the special object of Natalie's focus–for years.

Uncomfortable Questions

As the funeral service continued, I wondered: When my turn comes, will there be even one face on the screen we could draw an arrow toward as someone I've invested in?   Exactly how much of my time and attention is shared with "the least of these?"

Funerals have a way of asking uncomfortable questions of the living.

 

Recently, I emceed an event for Awana Clubs at Northside Gospel Center in Chicago.  Awana—the Bible program—co-founded by Art Rorheim who is 98 years old, soon to be 99.  He stood with great strength and composure, speaking to the crowd who gave him a standing ovation.

What does a 98-year-old man say at an event like this?

• A man who has launched a Bible club attended by more than 2.3 million kids in 102 countries…every week?
• A man who traces his spiritual roots to Paul Rader and the Chicago Gospel Tabernacle.
• A man who has met at least two U.S. Presidents.
• A man who may well never have so public an opportunity to speak again.

I was curious.

It didn’t take him long to get to the point.  Art looked out at the crowd after sharing a few lighter thoughts and said—quote—“There are two kinds of people in this world: those who are going to heaven, and those who are going to hell.”   He then told how many years ago he was given an unexpected glimpse of hell.

A neighboring farm was abruptly engulfed in flames.  From where he stood, Art could easily see the farmer’s entire harvest going up in smoke. 

The man’s cattle were trapped in their pasture by a ring of flames.  Art noted with painful detail that the tongues of these cows dangled from their mouths as the flames drew ever closer. They were beyond rescue.

The farmer, out of pity for the animals, took out his rifle and shot them, one by one.

Forgive me for such a graphic picture.

But maybe…just maybe…you needed to hear that. Hell is still burning.  And every lost soul you meet is headed there.  The cows Art told about were beyond rescue.  But your neighbor is not. Shall we then be shy and self-conscious about offering a word of warning?  I think not!

There are two kinds of people in this world: those who are going to heaven, and those who are going to hell.  

How welcome are children in your church?

The question is not rhetorical.  I am asking you to think carefully. Why shouldn’t we?  We bemoan the sense of disconnect today’s emerging generation feels toward the church, and the many ways they are unplugging.   Yet I wonder if in some ways we haven’t invited them to leave.

"You don't belong!"

“Preposterous!” you say.  “We have many wonderful programs for kids at our church—and they are well attended!”  Maybe you do have a lot of well attended classes and events.  Yet if young kids rarely or never take part in the main event—your Sunday morning worship service—is it possible we are telling them “You kids belong in your special little area…but you really don’t have much to contribute to us adults”? 

Draw a pie chart of last Sunday’s church service, if you dare.  How big a piece of the pie did children get in the actual church service?  Did even one of them play a music solo?  Did an artistic junior high girl read the Scripture passage?   Was the high schooler boy who loves to do stage plays asked to interpret a gospel parable that was mentioned in the sermon?  Why do we seem to hear from the littlest children only at Christmas?    What’s up with that?

Why not?

I ask…

• Why shouldn’t a sixth grader read Scripture from the stage?
• Why shouldn’t a junior high kid play a piano solo as people are being seated…or during the offering time?
• Why shouldn’t the high school youth group—with appropriate guidance—lead the entire morning worship for a given Sunday—music, announcements, sermon and all?!

The answer is….there is no answer. There’s no reason why these things should not be, other than the fact that we have not created church cultures that embrace this kind of thing. 

Too "Professional?"

I’m not talking about tokenism here.   I’m talking about real kids filling real functions in a real service…week after week.

Are we so committed to “professionalism” or a sense of control that we cannot or will not be led by a child? 

Children belong in church.  Not just in their seats—but up on the stage. Leading us!