All In

This week, we're focusing on - and trying to get everyone at The River reading and discussing - the entire book of MATTHEW. The specific text relating to the sermon is 12:22-37 (The Message).


"This is war, and there is no neutral ground. If you're not on my side, you're the enemy; if you're not helping, you're making things worse."


I admit it. I am a professional procrastinator. That is, more often than not, when presented with two equally sensible and/or logical choices, I have a strong tendency to do nothing rather than make a decision that could turn out to be wrong. It's humorous, really. For example, my email inbox is currently littered with hundreds of messages - most of them of no lasting value - only because I'm never sure whether to delete them (whereas they'd be gone forever), file them (but then I'd have to decide under which  category)... or just let them sit there and take up tons of space in my inbox. Sadly, it's usually the latter option by default. Anyway, as a result, it takes me forever to find a message when I have to hunt for something specific. True, my system (or non-system) eats up precious memory on my hard drive... but on the positive side, I'm sure to have practically every message I've ever received in the past six months... even the stupid ones that promise to bless me if I forward it to 10 contacts! Hmmmm, not sure that's really worth celebrating though... Besides, I'd never be able to choose which 10 to forward it to!!


Anyway, it seems to me that Jesus makes it pretty clear to his disciples that he doesn't want them to procrastinate about whether or not to follow him. In fact, when they do ponder it for very long, he usually leaves them in the dust (e.g., Matthew 8:22). So to me, this passage in Matthew 12 indicates that Jesus is definitely not interested in wishy-washy disciples... there's a spiritual war going on, and there's no time for us to sit around and decide whether or not we're willing to risk getting shot. Jesus' words challenge us: either you're in... or you're out - you decide, but don't sit around and make lame excuses. Just decide to give God everything you've got (i.e., heart, soul, mind, strength) - or at least have the guts to tell him to pound sand. Hmmm... I honestly believe atheists will have a better experience standing before Him on judgment day than indecisive believers who couldn't quite put their so-called faith into reasonably discernible kingdom action. In Revelation 3, the Risen Jesus makes a troubling statement to the "luke-warm" (halfway, partially sold-out, almost-loyal) Christians from Laodicea - that they were utterly sickening to Him, making Him want to puke because of their limp and stagnant devotion to God.


It's war, Baby... and in this battle, there is no Switzerland. In God's army, if you're not actively and passionately marching in step with His Spirit... engaging the enemy with Him (and submitting yourself fully to His authority), then frankly, you're wearing the wrong uniform. It may not seem entirely fair, or humane, or comfortable, but nevertheless, it's true. He demands all of us, all of the time - at least, according to this passage, right?


Okay.. okay. But really, what does it mean to fight in His army? How are we supposed to march in step with His Spirit? How do mere men (and women) engage the enemy of God without losing our soul? What does it mean to follow Christ with all of who we are? It's not by works that we're saved, right...? So then why all the active verbs to describe such a passive-sounding thing as living by faith? How do we know if Christ sees us as hot, or cold, or lukewarm? And why is He so bloody demanding of His followers anyway?


Legitimate questions soldier. Got any answers?

Prison Break

Text for this Sunday's sermon/discussion at The River: Philippians 4:4-9

I'm not in prison, but sometimes I feel like a prisoner. Only my jail cell does not have steel bars and an extremely large roommate. The prison I spend so much time in is called fear. In the book of Philippians, Paul tells me that Christ wants us to live with confidence leading to joy regardless of any and all circumstances... yet far too often I instead live with worry leading to frustration (and his ugly twin brother, anger).

But when Paul wrote this amazing little, four chapter letter - he was in an actual prison. And we're not talking Folsom Prison either... we're likely talking about a dark, dank horrendous place where prisoners had their ankles in heavy chains. There was no television, no outside time, no education program... from what I can gather, it was a terrifying and utterly depressing place to be held against your will.

Yet Paul told us to be joyful... not only did he tell us... he WAS joyful even though his immediate circumstances seemed rather hopeless. How could he be so lighthearted... so full of life and vitality... so joyful while sitting in a place of such pain and anguish?

Because - even though he was physically in that dark prison cell, he was spiritually in the presence of God Almighty. Somehow, Paul was so caught up in the reality of Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior... his passionate love of God overwhelmed the very suffering of his body. Paul had faith that was so utterly real and powerful, he was no longer capable of worrying or being fearful. Prayer had become more than a simple "conversation with God"... somehow, it lifted Paul out of that prison cell and transported him into the presence of Jesus - and joy bubbled out of him like he was the guest of honor in a plush palace suite!

"Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life."

Oh, God... teach me how to pray like Paul. Help me to trust you even to the point of experiencing pure joy in the midst of life's challenges, frustrations and downright scary moments. Help your children offer up prayers of praise and worship that mysteriously, yet powerfully raises our mind and spirit out of the evil of this place, and opens our eyes to the reality and beauty of your glorious kingdom come. Make us whole again, Jesus... even if for a mere moment to connect with your holy love. Please, I pray, come in your fullness and displace worry at the center of our lives. Amen.

Word of God

Text for this Sunday's sermon/discussion at The River: Hebrews 4:12-13 (TM)


You've heard it before... probably many times in church. "Read your Bible." Like an exhausted mother of 4 children telling her kids to eat their vegetables, somewhere along the line you've probably heard a slightly annoyed, oft-frustrated, even desperate-sounding pastor plead with you to, "Read your Bible... p-p-please!"


So you do. You make the decision to read the Bible for yourself. The very next morning, you get up early, make a cup of java, turn off the television, open your big 'ol study Bible to Genesis, and three (or maybe ten?) chapters into it... zzzzzzzzzzzzz.  Huh? The next thing you know, you're waking with a jerk, wiping the drool off your face, and wondering what the heck happened to day one of your great Bible reading adventure! Then comes day two, day three... and then the whole exercise just seems to slowly fade from your memory.


But wait... doesn't Hebrews 4:12-13 say the Word of God (aka, the Bible) is, "sharp as a surgeon's scalpel, cutting through everything, whether doubt or defense, laying us open to listen and obey?" If that's true, why does it seem more like a great sleep aid than a knife? Or, playing off the surgery metaphor more precisely, why does the "Word of God" often seem to function more like the anesthesia than the scalpel? Is the Word of God really as powerful as it claims to be... or it it just an old book of stories and moralisms about people long, long ago... you know, more or less meaningless for more "sophisticated" people of today's world?


Well, you probably already know what my answer is to that question... duh, I'm a pastor! Of course I'm going to tell you the Bible is eternally powerful and effective... of course I'm going to advise you to read it (think of it as a spiritual vegetable!)... of course I'm going to do everything I can to help the Bible come alive to people who are seeking to know, and hear the voice of, and follow the Son of God - Jesus Christ! Sheeeesh... what kind of pastor would I be if I didn't attempt to do that?


But... are we pastor-types (and other varieties of Jesus Freaks) right about the Bible being the very "words of God"? C'mon, does a mysterious old book really have the power to breathe divine life into the spiritual death of humanity? How?


In order... I strongly believe the answers are: Yes, yes... and it is a divine mystery. One in which we can never fully grasp this side of heaven... but nevertheless, that which we can participate in with only a minuscule amount of faith.


So... if indeed the Bible can change lives... the questions then become something like: okay, so how do we approach it? How do we hear God's voice? How do we listen without falling asleep? How do we interpret its teachings? How do we become a "Christian?" How do we know we're following God's will? How are we supposed to live our lives as disciples of Jesus Christ? Just how the heck are we supposed to believe, and understand, and tackle, and READ this humongous book anyway? I believe it's powerful... but for goodness sake, how do I take it all in!!????


Well, dear reader... I'm so glad you asked. It's one of my favorite topics.  :-)

The Touch

Text for this Sunday's sermon/discussion at The River: Acts 3:1-11 (NLT)


The guy lived a pretty miserable life. He was reduced to begging at the temple of God, ironically at the Gate called Beautiful. I wonder if he ever contemplated the ridiculousness of it all... he couldn't get welfare, couldn't sue anyone for making him crippled since birth... couldn't go anywhere without being carried by whomever cared about him most (if anyone)... and couldn't even go in to the temple to worship God. Actually, he wasn't so sure he wanted to worship the One who made his life so miserable... all this, and he was placed each day at the Gate called Beautiful! Ha, funny joke, only he was the punch line. We can only surmise that he felt completely stuck in an endless loop of hopelessness, fear, and utter frustration at his lot in life.


"Stranger, do you have any money to give a poor crippled beggar?," he would ask anyone who came near him at the gate. More than likely, most people ignored him, some were rude to him, and occasionally someone might give him a modest handout so he could eat his next meal. Talk about desperate. But then one day, his life changed in a most dramatic fashion.


In his usual way, he begged the two guys coming through the gate... but this time it was different... one of them stopped and looked him in the eyes very intently. “Look at us,!" said Peter. Then he said, “I don’t have any silver or gold for you. But I’ll give you what I have. In the name of Jesus Christ the Nazarene, get up and walk!”


Peter didn't give the guy money - that which he thought he wanted. Nope, he gave him that which God wanted to give him - the gift of freedom, the gift of walking and running and dancing, the gift of hope. The one gift that could wholly and completely change his life!


I want to be like Peter. So full of confidence in God that I don't give people what they want... but what they most need in the depths of their soul. Money is good, and important, even necessary... but mere money doesn't accomplish what healing can do in individuals who desperately need hope. Money can buy a new school or new hospital... money can pay a missionary or dig a new well... but the personal and powerful touch of Jesus being given by (and through) one of his disciples can nevertheless transform a person's life forever. 


Many of us don't have much silver or gold to give away to the needy... but all of us can breath good news into the lives of spiritually crippled people. We can help lift them out of the depths of their depression. The good news of Christ can strengthen weak legs and give hope to those who feel reduced to mere survival in a seemingly dreadful world. Of course, many invalids don't know (and don't care) that they can't walk - but nevertheless, many people do hunger and long for something new and fresh and powerful that will give them new strength. They may not know it at first... but the source of that power and strength is not found within... it's found in the touch of Christ.


So... I wonder, what does that say about the body of Christ? We are his hands and feet, right? How then can we touch people with His love? Are we willing? Are you willing? What could we do to "heal" the spiritually crippled beggars of our day? You might get your hands dirty... are you ready to do that? Are you ready to change lives? Lord, give us the confidence to believe as Peter believed... and the touch to heal our neighbor.