The House of the Lord

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord
Forever. (Psalm 23:6b)

The final promise of the 23rd Psalm neatly wraps up the narrative of the Good Shepherd. The quintessential "Happily Ever After," Psalm 23:6 tells us the end of our journey is not the end of our story. It serves as a reminder that, after God has kept us all through this life -- after He has led us through the Valley, after He has provided for us and kept us safe and found us rest and refreshment -- He will finally lead us to an eternal home with Him. 

What a promise! It is in this verse we learn that, though He is the shepherd, we are not merely sheep. Indeed, we are family to the Shepherd -- children of the King -- and He has prepared us a place in His own house!

This verse also implies another promise: that we do not wander in vain. That we have a destination. Sure, God promises to keep us safe in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, but why walk through it at all? Because, as we find in verse 6, we're going somewhere. We're not not merely walking around, grazing from field to field, but our Shepherd is guiding us to a permanent Home -- a place where there are no enemies, where still waters abound, where the shadow of death cannot reach. 

And we know that, once we get there, His home -- the House of the Lord -- is OUR home forever. 

Your Goodness And Love Will Follow

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord
Forever.. (Psalm 23:6)

It can be easy, as a Christian, to spend a lot of time looking forward to the Afterlife. To Heaven. What could possibly sound as appealing, to those who love God, than the prospect of spending Eternity with Him? But you know, the first part of Psalm 23:6 reminds me that we don't have to wait for death to enjoy life with our Lord.

The NIV translates that section as "Surely Your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life."

When you commit to a life following Christ, you're inviting Him to dwell with you, to share your life. That's what Christians mean when we say we have a "relationship" with Him. It means He is there. It means we can talk to Him. We can enjoy His presence. 

So often, we get so caught up in our day-to-day lives, it's easy to forget He is literally with us. Because we can't see Him by our sides, it's easy to think of Him as being far away; as being someone we can only reach during our devotions or those quiet moments of prayer. But if you allow yourself to see, you will find His goodness and mercy follows you.

You can live an abundant life, filled with the goodness, love and mercy of Christ, right now. You don't have to wait for Heaven. He is there with you, if you just look for Him. 

Let this be an encouragement. No matter what's going on today, no matter what you have to do, your Lord walks by your side. He is with you in that meeting you've been dreading at work. He's with you in the crowded grocery store, when all you want to do is pack up your kids and go back home. He's with you as He nudges you to talk to that lonely person at school or work.

He is with you, once you find Him, with all His goodness and mercy, all the days of your life.

My Cup Overflows

You prepare a table before me
    in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
    my cup overflows. (Psalm 23:5)

We've talked before about what an interesting, amazing picture is painted in verse 5 of the 23rd Psalm: Sitting amongst your enemies, dining comfortably in the presence and safety of your Lord. This last phrase completes the picture: "my cup overflows." 

It is here that we begin to understand the glory of God's blessing -- how His grace is in His every act. It's enough that He is our Shepherd. It's enough to know He is wish us even in the valley of the shadow of death. Enough that He not only protects us from our enemies, but prepares a table in their presence. But now we see that when God blesses, He gives above and beyond mere need. Indeed, He so delights to give good things to His children, that He just continues to do so. 

But note here: He doesn't make the enemies disappear. He doesn't pluck us from the Valley. He could, but does not. Jesus promised in John 16:33 that we would have trouble, and we see that, even in His presence, the trouble remains all around us. But just look at the rest of what Jesus tells us!

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.

I believe this is the meaning of the overflowing cup of Psalm 23:5: that you and I and the whole world might get a glimpse of God's power and authority over the evil on earth. Here is the big, bad world, controlled for a time by darkness. And here's God in the midst of it, blessing His children beyond measure. It's a poke in the eye of the evil one that makes me smile, but it's also a reflection of God's glory and greatness! And of His grace.

Grace is when we get what we do not deserve, and in verse 5, we see a filling of what we don't deserve, beyond the limit of even the cup He has placed before us.

Stubborn Children In the Hands of a Loving God

Yesterday was one of those moments in the life of a parent. That moment when something silly -- stupid, even -- becomes something subtly heartbreaking. The situation: my daughter got caught with a candy wrapper. Though she claimed she was just throwing it away, circumstances -- and her overall demeanor -- suggested otherwise. But, she continued to deny any wrongdoing. A half hour later, I went out to the kitchen and noticed a piece of candy on the floor -- the very same kind which would have been found inside that empty wrapper. We confronted her with the evidence, which, when combined with the other circumstances of the evening, only solidified her guilt. But she wouldn't budge.

Several story changes and many tears later, she still wouldn't admit what she'd done. Of course, from a Mommy and Daddy perspective, the actual crime was nothing. She would have been reminded that we don't take food, particularly sweets, without permission, and possibly lost an after-school snack for a day. The big deal, for us, was simply that she wasn't telling the truth about it. This went on far longer than it ever would have, simply because she wouldn't admit what she'd done. And because of that, she got into more trouble, losing privileges for the week.

And the whole time, there she was, crying those big tears out of those huge blue eyes, breaking my heart with every drop. As her daddy, it killed me seeing her like that. I'll readily admit it took everything in me, during the conversation, to not just scoop her up into my arms, tell her everything was okay and that I believed her (even though I didn't), and send her off to bed with a conciliatory cookie. Yeah, I'm a sucker. I guess that's love.

The thing of it was, what I really and truly wanted was for her to simply be honest with us. To simply confess what she'd done and apologize. That one, simple thing, and I would happily have erased every indication of guilt. I'd have happily picked her up and kissed her tears and told her we loved her and forgave her, and always would. That she'd been forgiven even before she fessed up. But it was important to us that she confess. Vital, in fact. Not just for our own satisfaction, but in order for her to grow as a person. In order for her to learn to take responsibility for what she'd done. Because, without that understanding -- without taking that responsibility, our forgiveness is next to meaningless. She learns nothing, continues to justify what she'd done wrong, and keeps facing the consequences over and over again.

Maybe it makes me a bad parent, but in that moment, if she'd simply said, "I'm sorry," there probably would have been no punishment at all. It's just a stupid piece of candy, and all I wanted to do was comfort my little girl.

It was one of those moments in which I truly believed I finally understood God. At least, I finally understood His unconditional love and desire to forgive. I finally understood, in some very small way, His own heartbreak. Imagine, there He is -- having already paid the penalty for what we've done wrong -- just waiting on us to acknowledge it. To simply confess. To say, "Lord, yes, I've done something wrong. I've disobeyed you. I have sinned and turned away from what was right."

He waits for that moment with each one of us, wanting nothing more than to scoop us up into His arms, wipe away our tears of guilt, and say, "I love you. I forgive you."

 If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. (1 John 1:8 & 9)

You Anoint My Head With Oil

You anoint my head with oil (Psalm 23:5b)

In Scripture, anointing with oil carried two purposes: to heal, both spiritually and physically, and to set apart for God's use. David, with his unique place in history, must surely have been referring to both uses when he sang of the Shepherd anointing his own head. David, who would be King, but who felt wounded physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It hadn't been that long ago, after all, that David was literally anointed by the prophet Samuel to become King over Israel. 

It makes sense that anointing oil be used for the purpose of both healing and calling, and speaks to the way God chooses and cultivates those who will serve Him. 

As humans, we are inheritors of the Fall, broken at birth. We are born into sin, into a world of disease and pestilence and death. We are, in short, born wounded -- physically and spiritually dying from Day One. 

When we recognize we are the Shepherd's, and that He is our Lord, He anoints us for His use. Through His Spirit, He anoints us first for healing -- a balm and salve for our naturally broken state -- and then to set us apart. As David discovered, this is a part of the Joy of belonging to the Good Shepherd.

When we work for the World, we are used up and discarded. The world will take the best of us and, when it's through, leave us to die. But God isn't like that. God prepares us with a healing, and then marks us as one of His Own. So marked, the end of our walk on earth isn't merely death, but a homecoming. "You are mine," God says in His anointing. "Not just My sheep or servants, but my children." 

Anointing, then -- in both its healing and sanctification -- is inclusion. Inclusion into the service, and the Family, of the Almighty.

You Prepare A Table Before Me

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies... (Psalm 23:5a)

As David continues painting a picture of a Good Shepherd, the first part of verse 5 finds the narrator still in the Valley. Still in danger, with enemies nearby, the sheep, however, remains unworried. 

Mealtime is something I tend to take for granted. Whether I'm secure in my own home, or even out on the town, I can sit down to a meal and not really be concerned about potential enemies surrounding me. I have a feeling this is true for most of us -- which means that we, perhaps, can't quite grasp the enormity of what's being promised here in verse 5. 

I have a friend, a war veteran, who suffers post-traumatic stress. I didn't know how deeply this was affecting him until recently. I didn't know, for example, that he was unable to even go out in public without his nerves being on edge. If he went out to eat, assuming he could, his eyes were on the door, on the windows, on everyone in the restaurant. His back was to the wall to give him as much control over his surrounding as possible. He didn't feel safe. He didn't feel secure. He didn't feel at leisure to simply enjoy his meal. Physically, he wasn't at war anymore. But nobody told his nerves. 

I think about my friend, and I try to picture myself on edge, constantly wary and on the lookout for potential threats to my safety. Most of us can't even imagine living like that, but my friend can't forget it. Now, when I read Psalm 23:5, I think of my friend. I think of a man knowingly surrounded by enemies -- by people who want nothing more than to kill him.

This was, for a long time, David's life as well. On the run, hiding where he could from the king, always looking over his shoulder. Yet, in trusting that God had more for him, he knew he wouldn't be let down. He knew the Shepherd would never let anything happen to him. And so, feeling safe and secure, even as the eyes of enmity stared down on him, he could sit at the table prepared by the Shepherd Himself, and enjoy.

Chances are pretty good, your enemies in this life are not people who want to literally kill you. Chances are, your enemies are not even people. Ephesians 6:12 says we "do not wrestle against flesh and blood..." but against spiritual forces. In every way, these forces are actually worse than what we could ever face physically, because their goal is an eternal death. Yet, David reminds us, don't be anxious. Don't worry about these forces. They can't do anything do you that the Lord has not allowed.

He's in control. He's got it covered. That's the thing about following the Shepherd: when He sets the table, no matter where you are, you are safe to enjoy it.

Rod and Staff

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. (Psalm 23:4)

Two simple tools of a shepherd, and yet in them, David finds comfort even in the darkest times. 

The rod is in part a weapon, keeping at bay the devouring enemy. And in part, it is a symbol of the shepherd's authority over the sheep, used to mark the tenth sheep for tithe and to guide them through the entrance of the fold. There is evidence that the scepter held by Eastern kings had its origins in this tool, signifying protection, power, and authority. 

The staff was also useful as a weapon, but even more importantly, was used for balance on difficult terrain, allowing the shepherd to rightly lead his sheep, and as a corrective tool to gently guide the sheep where they needed to go. 

In short, as long as the sheep kept to the shepherd, they never needed to worry about anything. He would lead them and protect them, finding them good grazing ground and making sure they were safe from predators. No wonder this was such a comfort for David!

Surrender isn't something that comes easily to many of us. But isn't it easier knowing the Shepherd has our well-being at heart, and is more than capable to lead us right where we need to be?

Through the Valley of the Shadow

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me... (Psalm 23:4a)

The reality is, the world we live in offers much to fear, and precious little comfort to go with it. The average person is left with only a few choices for how to live in this world, then. We can ignore it -- that is, pretend the trouble isn't as great as it is. We can choose (because it IS a choice) to live in fear. We can become fatalists, believing that whatever's going to happen will happen, and there's nothing we can do about it anyway. Or, we can believe that whatever does happen, we serve a God who can make it to work together for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28).

Following the Shepherd isn't about ignoring the trouble around you; it is about acknowledging that He is greater than whatever the world can throw at us. Evil will do what evil does. Evil men will behave in an evil manner. 

When David talks about the Valley of the Shadow of Death, we recognize that, on some level, we tread that same valley each and every day. Death always hangs overhead, to some extent or another. Even when we're not thinking about it. From accidents to ailments to the acts of men, the number of things which could rob us of our lives while we're not paying attention can, if we let it, be truly daunting. We needn't pretend those things don't exist -- but we needn't fear them either. 

You have two things the rest of this big, bad world does not have, and they are all the advantage you'll ever need. You have the knowledge that death is not the end for us, but merely a step back toward Home. And you have a loving Shepherd who, even in the valley of the shadow of death, stands with you, walks ahead of you, and leads you where He knows is best.

When It's All Said And Done

William Wilberforce was a man who showed us what faith looks like when we allow it to permeate our superficial lives and saturate our whole selves. After finding God in 1785, Wilberforce began a journey that would last the rest of his life. He became concerned about other men -- and more to the point, about what men were doing to one another. Two years after becoming a Christian, Wilberforce met a group of anti-slavery abolitionists and found his calling. For 26 years, William fought in the British Parliament to end the atrocity of slavery until the Slave Trade Act was passed in 1807. He would continue to fight until failing health forced him to leave Parliament. Through his efforts and those of others, the Slavery Abolition Act was finally passed 26 years after the Slave Trade Act, in 1833.

On July 29, 1833 -- just three days after hearing the passage of the Abolition Act was assured, William Wilberforce died. He died never witnessing the freedom he fought for; never having seen the fruit of his life's work. For nearly fifty-two years, William fought against prevailing social wisdom, against popular opinion, against all odds, winning hearts as he went, because God had called him to do so. A month after he died, the act was passed, and slavery was abolished in England.

I don't know what was on William's mind as he passed from this life to enter God's Kingdom, but I like to think it was these words from Paul:

 I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Finally, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give to me on that Day, and not to me only but also to all who have loved His appearing. (2 Timothy 4:7-8)

This is the passage I want on my tombstone; my personal inspiration. It's also the question I ask myself every day. Am I fighting the good fight? Am I keeping the faith? Am I worthy of a crown of Righteousness, laid up in Heaven? And I pray every day that, whether I'll ever see while alive the fruits of my labor, when it's my time, I'll meet Jesus smiling and know He was proud of me.

Drive-Thru Jesus

"Yeah, I'll have a better job, please. Happy family on the side. An order of good health. Better make that five orders. Do you have any World Peace?"

"There's gonna be a wait on the World Peace."

"Hmm. Nevermind. Just the other stuff then. Thanks."

How's your prayer life? What is prayer? What's it for? Is it just a time when we ask God for the things we want or need, the Almighty sitting patiently at the window, pen and order pad in hand? Or is there more to it? I'll be honest: sometimes, my own prayer life can feel more like I'm sitting at a drive-thru, just telling God what I need, with an "Oh, thanks," thrown in for good measure.

Maybe, if we're feeling super-pious, we'll throw the word "Lord" into our wish list a few hundred times, just to make sure He knows we're talking to Him.

Is this you, too?

Don't be embarrassed. This is part of our very real humanness. This is part of what we slowly overcome as we turn our lives over, bit by bit, to the Lordship of Christ. As we get to know Him better, as we get to know ourselves better, we learn how to trust Him. We learn that trusting ourselves, going after our wants and perceived needs, is what got mankind into this whole mess in the first place.

We learn that His will -- and not our own -- is what we truly need in our lives. If you want to enrich your prayer life, take that earlier scenario -- that whole drive-thru thing -- and reverse the roles. Put yourself in the position of listener, and God in the role of the one with the orders.

Maybe that's why Jesus, in teaching us how to pray, has us begin by recognizing God's true place:

In this manner, therefore, pray:

Our Father in heaven,
Hallowed be Your name. (Matthew 6:9)

Blotted Out

 Repent therefore and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and that He may send Jesus Christ, who was preached to you before, whom heaven must receive until the times of restoration of all things, which God has spoken by the mouth of all His holy prophets since the world began. (Acts 3:19-21)

I love the phrase, "blotted out." It shows the power of forgiveness in Christ. It says that when God forgives, it's not a simple matter of simply deciding not to punish you for your past; but a promise that those sins are no longer a part of who you are, as far as He's concerned.

When I was a kid, I had this terrifying idea of Heaven and judgement. I had this picture in my head of God sitting on His throne, me standing there, small and scared, watching the movie of my life as He picked apart my every action. Mortifying! Then, when it was all over, all said and done, He would weigh all that sin against the grace and mercy of His son, and I'd escape Hell.

But "blotted out" tells us that's not what's going to happen. "Blotted out" says when I get to Heaven, what He's going to see is Christ in me, and then stack up how I've lived for Him. All that sin, all that filth, gone, as though it never happened.

See, God sees what we do. He knows when we sin, and that sin just piles up, slowly adding to the destruction of our immortal souls. That's life before repentance, and without Christ, that is the criteria on which we will be judged. But in Christ, we have the power to turn from that sin, and in the turning, leave it behind. And as Psalm 103 tells us, that transgression against His holiness is removed from us "as far as the East is from the West." It's no longer a part of us. It no longer holds us back, and is no longer even recognized by God.

How refreshing.
 

Grace Found In Murder

“Yet now, brethren, I know that you did it in ignorance, as did also your rulers. But those things which God foretold by the mouth of all His prophets, that the Christ would suffer, He has thus fulfilled." (Acts 3:17-18)

As Peter continued his message to the men of Israel, this is when he really started getting to the meat of the message. Up to this point was illustration: the healing, the reminder of the crucifixion, the mini-lesson in God's power. These were a preamble to the Gospel message Peter was about to share. This next part of the message, Peter began by echoing the words of Jesus. He'd already reminded these men about the man they killed, and now he was reminding them of what He said from the cross: "Father, forgive them, they don't know what they're doing." 

But what were they doing? It turns out, much like Joseph's brothers, their actions were being used to fulfill God's will, more or less in spite of their intentions. 

What grace! 

In spite of wicked and jealous hearts, God provided a way for even these men to be saved -- and He did it using the very wickedness He'd come to heal! 

The fact is, we've all stepped outside of God's will. Romans 3:23 reminds us, all -- everyone -- has sinned and fall short of the glory of God. Many of us have made such a mess of things, we don't know whether we can ever be right with God. We wonder how a just and righteous God could ever forgive the things we've done, the lives we've lived. 

Yet, even in our sins, we discover a path back to Him, if we choose to find it. Peter echoed the words of Christ in offering salvation, even to the men who clamored for Jesus' execution. Surely, God has grace enough for you, too.

When A Dead Man Says 'Walk'

The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of our fathers, glorified His Servant Jesus, whom you delivered up and denied in the presence of Pilate, when he was determined to let Him go. But you denied the Holy One and the Just, and asked for a murderer to be granted to you, and killed the Prince of life, whom God raised from the dead, of which we are witnesses. And His name, through faith in His name, has made this man strong, whom you see and know. Yes, the faith which comes through Him has given him this perfect soundness in the presence of you all. (Acts 3:13-16)

I think Peter took a certain joy in reminding the pious men of Israel about Jesus' crucifixion. Remember: some of these men know good and well they can't explain the resurrection; that's why they had to bribe the guards at Jesus' tomb. So, Peter reminded them, they denied Jesus' claims about Himself were true, and killed him to prove the point. He made a rather strong counter-argument by refusing to stay buried. 

I can see why Peter enjoyed needling them about it a little. In this one paragraph, Peter stripped these men of their authority to criticize (i.e., "hey wait, didn't you only recently let a murderer go free so you could kill a just and innocent man?") and established the power and authority of Christ to accomplish His will.

Peter wanted these men to understand that they, Peter and John, were acting under the authority of Christ, who was given authority of the Holy and Just, as the Prince of life, by the God who raised Him from the dead. 

Put another way, this man Jesus was killed, but then by the power of God was raised back from the dead. That kind of power is unmistakable. That kind of power is so great that the mere name of the One who holds it is enough, through faith, to heal the hopeless.

But what kind of faith? That's the question. If His name is enough, through faith, to heal, how strong must one's faith be? Does anyone actually have that kind of faith? Verse 16 has the answer: the faith we need comes through Him in whom we have faith. If Christ has enough power in His name to heal, He certainly has authority, too, to provide the faith we need to make it possible.

Don't Look At Me!

Now as the lame man who was healed held on to Peter and John, all the people ran together to them in the porch which is called Solomon’s, greatly amazed. So when Peter saw it, he responded to the people: “Men of Israel, why do you marvel at this? Or why look so intently at us, as though by our own power or godliness we had made this man walk? (Acts 3:11-12)

A man, lame from birth, suddenly leaps up and joyously declares he has been healed. The peoples' reaction to this healing isn't that surprising. But Peter's response is interesting. He asks the men of Israel two questions: First, why are they so surprised to witness the acts of God? And secondly, why are they so willing to put mere men on some sort of pedestal?

"Why look so intently at us," asks Peter, "as though by our own power or godliness we had made this man walk?" This is a theme that began in chapter 2 and will be repeated throughout the book of Acts, and indeed over and over in the letters of Paul: don't look at the mere mortals God chooses to use as instruments of His will; look instead to the God who causes these things to happen. 


It's easy, when we see a ministry grow, or witness the movement of God, or hear a stirring Word, to attribute it to the holiness or piety of the people involved. It's easy to -- and very human -- to wish to be a part of something just as wonderful. To see ourselves used in such a mighty way. To wonder whether we aren't "together" enough in our faith for God to use us. It's natural to worry that we'll never be "good" enough for God to use in a powerful ministry.

The wonder of God's Grace and Mercy is such, however, that we needn't be perfectly holy to be used to glorify His kingdom. Read the accounts of Moses, of David, of Peter and Paul. These were not naturally holy men. These were not the men you or I would choose to fulfill God's will (or in the case of David, allow to continue to act on God's behalf). But then, we aren't God.

As Peter tried to explain to the men on Solomon's Porch, God isn't being glorified by the acts of mere men. This crippled beggar wasn't healed because Peter and John were good and righteous and holy. He was healed because God chose to heal him, using Peter and John as His instruments.

Men fail. Consistently. Failure, indeed, is possibly life's singular constant. But as Peter and John demonstrate, God doesn't wait for us to become perfect before working through us. He doesn't call the qualified -- if He had to do that, He'd never be able to call anyone. God calls the willing, and by working through us brings us closer to His holiness.

Why Do You Marvel?

Now as the lame man who was healed held on to Peter and John, all the people ran together to them in the porch which is called Solomon’s, greatly amazed. So when Peter saw it, he responded to the people: “Men of Israel, why do you marvel at this? Or why look so intently at us, as though by our own power or godliness we had made this man walk? (Acts 3:11-12)

A man, lame from birth, suddenly leaps up and joyously declares he has been healed. It's fair to say if you or I witnessed the event, we'd be pretty surprised. Shocked, even. We would praise God, and perhaps even think more highly of the men through whom this miracle was enacted. So, I have to say, the peoples' reaction to the healing of Acts 3 really doesn't seem inappropriate. But Peter's response is interesting. We're going to look, in the next two days, at the two questions he asks of the witnesses. He begins by asking the men of Israel -- those gathered at the Temple -- "why do you marvel at this?"

I think Peter chose his words very carefully here. Notice, he addressed the crowd, Men of Israel. These weren't Romans or other pagans. These were Israelites. These were people raised on the Law and Prophets, whose very lives and culture were meant to be a reflection of God's glory. Indeed, these were His chosen people. So, when Peter addresses this group, "Men of Israel," with that title comes the full weight of their entire history. "People of God," he is essentially saying, "you who were brought out of Egypt, who were led by smoke during the day and fire at night, who were fed on bread from the Hand of God, to whom God delivered the Promised Land... you who were delivered from your enemies time and time again, who were given His Ark to carry before you, the people of Abraham's covenant... this amazes you?"

What Peter seems to be asking is a question many of us should ask ourselves: do you not know who God is? 

I once heard a pastor say that once you get past the first phrase of Scripture, "In the Beginning, God," everything else is possible. All the miracles, all the healings, the work and ministry of Jesus, the empowering by His Spirit... if we know who God is, we must expect the unexpected. We must anticipate the miraculous. The God we serve isn't bound by our physics. He isn't limited by our handicaps. He is the God of Wonders. We are reminded in Acts 3 that when you serve a God of wonders, you learn to allow Him to move as He will, and be prepared for the impossible.

Hey, This Isn't What I Asked For!

Then Peter said, “Silver and gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk.” And he took him by the right hand and lifted him up, and immediately his feet and ankle bones received strength. So he, leaping up, stood and walked and entered the temple with them—walking, leaping, and praising God. (Acts 3:6-8)

Do you recognize the movement of God in your life?

When the man lying at the gate saw Peter and John, he raised his hands and begged for alms. Born lame, begging for money was the only life this man knew. It was all he understood. That was the way of the culture; he could not take care of himself, so he lay by the temple gate and asked the children of God to help him. When they noticed him and stopped, the man had no expectation beyond the usual: that they would provide him with whatever they had available to give him, and be on their way. 

Instead, they gave him much more. They gave him a chance. A new life. And, as we see in verse 8, this formerly lame beggar responded appropriately. 

I wonder how many of us would have fallen back down, content to maintain the status quo. How often have we begged God for something, only to have Him respond in a way so much bigger than we had dared hope? And how often does that happen, but we reject the gift because it wasn't what we asked for?

Can you imagine what it would have looked like if the lame man had rejected this healing? "Hey, wait a minute, guys! I don't know how to do anything but beg! What am I gonna do now?!" He would have seemed pretty ungrateful, right?

Yet, how often do we say the same thing to God? "That's not what I asked for, God. What am I gonna do with this?"

Trust God. Trust that He knows His plan for you, and that it's better than you could ever plan for yourself. Trust that whatever happens will be to His glory. If you have the faith to ask, have the faith, too, to accept His answer, whatever it is, and to praise Him for the answering. 

Learn to understand that God will bless in His own way, and that His way is far superior to our own, and you will find yourself blessed beyond measure.

Silver and Gold I Have Not

Now Peter and John went up together to the temple at the hour of prayer, the ninth hour. And a certain man lame from his mother’s womb was carried, whom they laid daily at the gate of the temple which is called Beautiful, to ask alms from those who entered the temple; who, seeing Peter and John about to go into the temple, asked for alms. And fixing his eyes on him, with John, Peter said, “Look at us.” So he gave them his attention, expecting to receive something from them. Then Peter said, “Silver and gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk.” (Acts 3:1-6)

It's easy to become overwhelmed when we look at the need in the world around us. Millions in need of food, water, shelter, medical care... the list, sadly, goes on and on. Charities great and small crop up around these specific needs, and all vie for your attention -- and money. You can't even buy a Happy Meal without being hit up for a donation, and for the most part, the cause is always worthwhile and important. And maybe that's not so bad, a dollar here or there. Perhaps you're even making real sacrifices and giving even when it's inconvenient. But you still wonder if you're doing enough. Whether it's making a difference at all. 

Maybe you're like me and have serious doubts you'll ever be able to afford to make a real difference. But when I think that way, it's because I've forgotten one of a few very important facts about both need and the Call to help those in need. 

First, money is a tool. A gift. It is given to us that we might sustain our families and bless others. But it isn't the only tool. In fact, you may not have any money at all... but you can still be a blessing to those in need. When Peter and John went to the temple in Acts 3, they didn't have any money on them. But they did have the empowerment of Christ to give this man in need something even better. And that's the second fact we need to remember: if God calls us to help, He gives us the means to do so. Maybe it's not what you think it ought to be, or what the world think it's looking for... but it's nevertheless exactly the right thing at the right time. 

Maybe what you have to offer is comfort. A listening ear. The ability to care for others, to pray for others, to provide nourishment. You never know what the Spirit will lay on you, when you're willing to listen. Maybe, He'll even call you to heal. The point is to be available. The point is to stop worrying about what you can't do, and listen instead for what God wants to do through you. 

The third fact we learn from this story is that you don't need to worry about changing the entire world. Focus instead on those who God puts right in front of you. Love those people. Care for them. Do that, and you really are changing the world.

Pigs, Chickens And The Acts 2 Church (re-post)

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved. (Acts 2:42-47)

That's quite a picture of the Church, isn't it?

A while back, I wrote about sacrificial giving. It's a tough concept -- to actually give more than what you think you can conveniently offer. But that is, after all, what makes it a sacrifice. But in searching the Scripture (At the time, I was actually looking for the story of the widow's mite, found in Luke 21:1-4, but didn't remember exactly where it was), I stumbled across -- or was led to -- Acts 2:45. "They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need." And, in fact, we can learn similar lessons from each. The widow in Luke 21 can teach us about the spirit of our giving. 

The Widow's Mite, art by James Christensen

As Jesus looked up, he saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury. He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. “Truly I tell you,” he said, “this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.” 

For so many of us, giving is an obligation. For the widow, it was a commitment. It is this same spirit we find in the Church of Acts 2.  Today, we say we're part of a church because we show up once or twice a week and (maybe) give up 10% of our incomes. 

Meanwhile, the early church was, by necessity, committed to its cause and to its members. Each person in the church was committed to his or her brothers and sisters as fellow members of the Body of Christ. Committed, in fact, to the point where they not only shared what they had, but went out of their way to offer sacrificially to the aid of another member in need. 

What we learn in Acts 2 is that a church isn't a building -- or even merely a group of believers. A church is a family -- a single organism. A church is a body -- The Body -- who truly loves one another as Christ Himself loves them. 

A pastor once asked how church members were like a ham and egg breakfast. Some members, he said, were like the Chickens, and some like the pigs. The difference, he said, was that while the Chickens were involved in the breakfast, the pigs were committed.  

We bemoan the state of the world -- how our culture becomes more and more secularized and depraved. But Scripture itself teaches us what we can do about it. Acts 2:47 says, "the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved."

Daily. 

How did they do it? Simply by being the Body of Christ.  

(Updated from a post originally found on May 8, 2013)

Acts 2, The Modern West, and Our Twisted Priorities

Now all who believed were together, and had all things in common,  and sold their possessions and goods, and divided them among all, as anyone had need. (Acts 2:44-45)

These couple verses toward the end of Acts 2 paint an interesting picture of the early Church. We see here a fellowship that is not only fraternal, but communal. Familial, even. We see a group of people so devoted to one another and to the Faith they pursue that even their possessions are forfeit to the needs of the Body. 

It's hard to imagine in today's society where property is so valued and interwoven with our own status or identity.  It's difficult, perhaps, for us to imagine even agreeing to split money and property with our own family! Can you imagine going to work 40 hours a week, working to put a roof over your family's head, and then agreeing to sell your possessions and split your income among your brothers and sisters?

THAT certainly doesn't seem like the American Dream, does it? Yet, the more I study the word of God, the more I'm growing to understand the attitude of Christ and His Church stands in direct opposition to Western attitudes and ideals. We say earn, Christ says serve. We say take, He says give. We say buy! Consume! Christ says sell and simplify. We say enjoy. Christ says share. 

The difference we see is that this early church understood deeply and completely something to which we modern, Western Christians only pay lip service: that what we have is not our own, and it is only temporary. That in the scope of Eternity, all the "stuff" of modern success is just dust waiting to happen. That, if we are wealthy (and, if you're reading this, there's a very good chance you're wealthier by far than 98% of the rest of the world!), it is by the grace of God alone, and that service may well mean giving it back. 

This ancient church trusted in the words of Christ, who said, 

Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. (Matthew 6:31-33)

That's what it means to be a Christian. That's what it is to be a servant. It means putting your Master above yourself. It means looking to His kingdom before looking to our own needs, and trusting that we serve a Master who is faithful to provide for us as we serve. 

Shock And Awe: How the Church Was Built

Then fear (awe) came upon every soul, and many wonders and signs were done through the apostles.
(Acts 2:43)

When was the last time you were awed by God? What does it take to render you awestruck? In today's
world, we don't see many apostles doing signs and wonders -- but I wonder whether, in today's world, such things would have the same impact. We feel as though we've seen it all. Even when we witness a healing or a prophecy, we're often so jaded and skeptical that we simply don't believe it.

Yet, isn't the Spirit who dwells in each of us the same Spirit who was with Peter and the other apostles as they built the early church? So, did God change, or did we?

Today, I want to talk about awe. When we talk about the beginning of that first church, we often skip right over this verse, Acts 2:43, as though we just aren't quite sure what to do with it. Almost as though we feel like it simply doesn't apply to us anymore.

How sad.

I'm going to make a suggestion which may be uncomfortable. The Church -- the Body of Christ -- was built on awe. It was founded on amazement. From the people being amazed by the teachings and miracles of Christ (See each of the four gospels) to the amazement and awe following the words and deeds of the Apostles, it was wonder that helped build the church.

It is this wonder that's still evident in the letters of Paul when he reflects upon his own salvation:

And the grace of our Lord was exceedingly abundant, with faith and love which are in Christ Jesus. This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief. (1 Timothy 1:14-15).

Maybe we so often lose our wonder and awe in the Church because we don't start looking for it in the right place. Perhaps we've forgotten who we were, and where we were going. Perhaps we've made the mistake of believing we are somehow worthy of Grace and Mercy.

All I know is, when I reflect on who I could have been -- on the person it would be all to easy for me to become -- I can only be awestruck to see the change Christ has made in me. By myself, I am an arrogant, selfish man. I am a man given to casual sins. But in Christ, I am His, and my desire is now that people see Him in me.

And that thought awes me. Knowing I am unworthy of His grace, and knowing He showers me with it anyway. Knowing the God of the Universe, the Creator of all things, loves me, personally, and offers His mercy in spite of myself, fills me with wonder and gratitude.

It may not be a tongue of fire, but it's pretty amazing.

Religion is NOT a dirty word

Then those who gladly received his word were baptized; and that day about three thousand souls were added to them. And they continued steadfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in prayers. (Acts 2:41-42)

In our first introduction to the Early Church, we are given a description that sounds an awful lot like... religion. Prayers and breaking bread? Steadfast in doctrine? 

In many ways, the modern church's opposition to religiosity has been a good thing. But in eliminating the useless doctrines of men from our practice (which is appropriate), I wonder if we haven't thrown out the baby with the bathwater, so to speak. Religion, believe it or not, isn't a dirty word. Neither is doctrine. This passage in Acts shows us why.

Remember, Peter and the other Apostles are speaking to the crowd. These apostles are men who walked with Christ, learned from him, and who were His disciples. These are men who were empowered and educated by the indwelling Spirit of God. The three thousand converts, meanwhile, did not know Jesus on intimate terms. They had not really listened to His teaching, and, simply put, didn't know how to follow Him. So, they looked to those who did. 

Religion isn't the problem, you see. Religiosity is. Religion isn't an enemy, but an educator, providing insight into how we can serve and follow the Living God. Religion, done right, honors and glorifies God. This is why you don't hear James discouraging religion, but instead showing how to do it correctly:

If anyone among you thinks he is religious, and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his own heart, this one’s religion is useless. Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world. (James 1:26-27)

We'll see as we continue our study that the Church is important. It plays a vital role in your life with Christ, and in His Kingdom. Don't walk away from His people if you claim to be one of His. And don't forsake the beauty of religion based on the perversion of religiosity.

Boldness in the Spirit and Truth

And with many other words he testified and exhorted them, saying, “Be saved from this perverse generation.” Then those who gladly received his word were baptized; and that day about three thousand souls were added to them. (Acts 2:40-41)

God honors boldness in His name. The Truth, spoken in Love, must yield good fruit. For me, this is a key lesson in Acts 2:40-41. Christians -- particularly Christians in the West -- have gotten this idea that it's our responsibility to make the Gospel more palatable. That we must offer rewards with the Gospel: a life of abundance instead of an abundant life. We downplay the cost of relationship with Christ, just as we downplay the cost of a life lived in slavery to sin. 

Is it any wonder that so many new Christians lack depth in their faith, when the faith they learned has such an unsteady foundation? Can it be any wonder when we fail, in our hemming and hawing and constant concession, to win strong, new disciples?

Peter spoke the truth. He spoke it with authority (he had a good Teacher, after all). He spoke it in love, but he spoke it forcefully and unequivocally. And, through him, the Spirit moved through the crowd and people believed. 

Romans 1:6 says, "For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God to salvation for everyone who believes, for the Jew first and also for the Greek."

The very Power of God. And yet, so many of us act as though we must be ashamed. Why else would we tweak it to be less offensive, or try to make it somehow more attractive to the temporally-minded? Do we not understand that Eternity is at stake?

Embrace the truth of Christ. If you claim to follow Him, don't be ashamed of the True Gospel. Celebrate being called out of a life of sin, into a life of Service to God. Understand that He wants to offer the very same -- through YOU -- to others.

What shall we do?

Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, “Men and brethren, what shall we do?”

Then Peter said to them, “Repent, and let every one of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is to you and to your children, and to all who are afar off, as many as the Lord our God will call.” (Acts 2:37-39)

What shall we do? Those who listened to Peter's words -- that Jesus Christ had been killed and rose again, that His spirit, the spirit of the Living God, is dwelling in those who believe -- recognize they have a choice to make. Now that they've heard the Gospel, they could accept it or deny it. So they asked perhaps the most logical question that can be asked upon being confronted with the Truth: now what? What shall we do? 

Peter's response must have seemed, for those who heeded his words, too good to be true. That's it? It sounds so easy! Repent and be baptized and voila... we're right with God? Without even sacrificing a lamb or a young goat?

Now, we know, as did those who heard Peter's words, that repentance isn't as easy as it sounds. It's a daily -- even an hourly -- decision. But even then, as Peter tells them (and us), we don't need to rely on our own strength. Repent and be baptized, he says, and we will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. What a promise! Through Christ we can not only be forgiven our sins, but have the strength, in His power, to resist temptation!

That's the Gospel in a nutshell. And now the question remains: What shall we do with it?

Both Lord and Christ

 Therefore being exalted to the right hand of God, and having received from the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit, He poured out this which you now see and hear.
“For David did not ascend into the heavens, but he says himself:

‘The Lord said to my Lord,
“Sit at My right hand,

Till I make Your enemies Your footstool.”’

“Therefore let all the house of Israel know assuredly that God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ.” (Acts 2:33-36)

As Peter prepares to wrap up his first sermon, he again looks to David to confirm the identity of Jesus. Sitting at the right hand of God, Jesus is both Lord and Christ - the Anointed One. This passage from the Psalms (Psalm 110) is a recognition of the Messiah's sovereignty. It stands out as a reminder -- both to the Jews of Peter's day and the Christians of ours -- that God's chosen does things as He sees fit, whether those actions conform to our own ideas or not. 

Remember, Israelites longed for a political Savior to free them from the tyranny of Rome. In bringing up Psalm 110, Peter was letting them know -- perhaps reminding them -- that God is at work on a much grander scale. 

The passage serves to remind us, too, that though He is our personal savior, Jesus is so much more. He is a friend that sticks closer than a brother... but He is also King. He is the Christ, but He is also Lord. We who say we serve Christ would do well to remember that. This isn't simply a happy-go-lucky, skipping hand-in-hand friendship with Jesus. This Christianity is nothing less than service to the King of Kings.

Jesus and David: A Tale of Two Tombs

For David says concerning Him:

‘I foresaw the Lord always before my face,
For He is at my right hand, that I may not be shaken.

Therefore my heart rejoiced, and my tongue was glad;
Moreover my flesh also will rest in hope.

For You will not leave my soul in Hades,
Nor will You allow Your Holy One to see corruption.

You have made known to me the ways of life;
You will make me full of joy in Your presence.’

“Men and brethren, let me speak freely to you of the patriarch David, that he is both dead and buried, and his tomb is with us to this day. Therefore, being a prophet, and knowing that God had sworn with an oath to him that of the fruit of his body, according to the flesh, He would raise up the Christ to sit on his throne, he, foreseeing this, spoke concerning the resurrection of the Christ, that His soul was not left in Hades, nor did His flesh see corruption. This Jesus God has raised up, of which we are all witnesses. (Acts 2:25-32)

In his message to the people on the day of Pentecost, Peter quotes from Psalm 16. He then uses these words to do a little teaching. In Peter's statement, we learn that, in some of David's psalms, the poet wasn't always speaking of himself, but was in fact prophesying. Such is the case here, in which David declares, "You will not leave my soul in Hades, nor will You allow Your Holy One to see corruption." As Peter points out, David is dead, and his body long since rotted away. 

God liked David a whole lot, even calling him a man after his own heart. Yet even David was not above corruption and sin. Even David was subject to sickness and, ultimately, death. 

But Jesus is the Lord over life and death. His resurrection is the sign of that Lordship. Unlike us, who are beholden to death, our Messiah is death's master. It answers to Him. And because our Savior is Lord over even death, He is able to free us from its bonds as well. 

This, indeed, is our hope: that in Christ, we are not subject to death forever, but can be given new life. Our hope is for nothing so paltry as life in this temporary world, but an Eternity in the sight of a loving, living God.

Jesus, in 100 Words or Less

“Men of Israel, hear these words: Jesus of Nazareth, a Man attested by God to you by miracles, wonders, and signs which God did through Him in your midst, as you yourselves also know— Him, being delivered by the determined purpose and foreknowledge of God, you have taken by lawless hands, have crucified, and put to death;  whom God raised up, having loosed the pains of death, because it was not possible that He should be held by it." (Acts 2:22-24)

On the day of Pentecost, Peter began his message by reminding his listeners of the words of the prophet Joel. His next step was to put the events of the past three years in perspective. As he stood in front of this crowd -- many of whom had reveled in the death of the rabble-rouser Jesus -- he reminded them of those things they had happily ignored. Things like the signs, wonders and miracles He performed in front of them. Clear, obvious proofs they had wanted, for political reasons, to pretend didn't exist. He reminded them of their own actions, just over a month before, to have this miracle-worker executed -- and then hit them with the Truth: that even in their wickedness they had performed God's will. And then, as further proof of what they had done, to whom they had done it, to the ultimate identity of Jesus, he presented the Resurrection. 

Many of those listening knew full well about the resurrection, whether or not they wanted to admit it to themselves. Indeed, the Jewish elders had taken part in bribing the guards at Jesus' tomb to conceal the truth. In bringing this to light, Peter was presenting a prelude to the Good News he was about to share. A summary of what he was going to tell them, by explaining exactly who Jesus was in just a few words.

But these words weren't meant only for the ears of those who were present; they're for us, too. In Peter's brief statement, we are given a clear vision of Jesus' identity; of who He is to us. He is a man, attested by God, a performer of miracles and wonders. A man who was killed by our lawlessness, but who had -- and has -- the power to defeat death, not only for Himself, but for all of us. And that, in 100 words or less, is the Gospel. We were dead and lawless. But by His death and resurrection, we are freed from both death and sin.

 

Visions and Dreams

But Peter, standing up with the eleven, raised his voice and said to them, “Men of Judea and all who dwell in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and heed my words. For these are not drunk, as you suppose, since it is only the third hour of the day. But this is what was spoken by the prophet Joel:

‘And it shall come to pass in the last days, says God,
That I will pour out of My Spirit on all flesh;
Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
Your young men shall see visions,
Your old men shall dream dreams.

And on My menservants and on My maidservants
I will pour out My Spirit in those days;
And they shall prophesy.

I will show wonders in heaven above
And signs in the earth beneath:
Blood and fire and vapor of smoke.

The sun shall be turned into darkness,
And the moon into blood,
Before the coming of the great and awesome day of the Lord.

And it shall come to pass
That whoever calls on the name of the Lord
Shall be saved. (Acts 2:14-21)

When he and the other disciples are accused of drunkenness because of their behavior on Pentecost, Peter looks to the words of Joel as a way of explaining the workings of God in their lives. I believe this served several purposes for the newly Spirit-filled preacher. 

First, it showed the unbound power of God. It was as though Peter was saying, "You think this is something? Just wait." Many of those in the crowd -- the religious Jews -- knew by heart the words Peter was saying. They knew that, when the day of the Lord came, their young men would see visions, and their old dream dreams. They knew the servants of the Lord would prophesy.

And this is the second thing Peter hoped to accomplish: identifying himself and the Disciples as servants of the Lord. And finally, Peter was letting those who heard him know they had entered a new age; that the Lord, Christ, the Messiah, had indeed been on earth. That His Kingdom is coming. That His work is being accomplished.

This can serve as a reminder to all of us that He is returning. We don't know when, but we know He is, and that He is coming in victory. And we know that whoever calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.