It’s been a rough year for college football, as scandal after scandal has rocked many of the elite programs around the country. In 2011 alone, Ohio State’s football coach, Jim Tressel, resigned after he was found to have hidden violations from the NCAA, the University of Miami football team was found to have committed numerous violations so heinous that it could lead to the program being shut down, and this past week, Penn State has been under the microscope after it was discovered that one of its assistant coaches had been sexually molesting boys for years, often at the team practice facility, and that school officials, including the head coach Joe Paterno, had done very little to bring the abuse into the light. Now, the Miami scandals were not much of a surprise, given the tawdry history of the program, but the Ohio State and Penn State scandals were shocking precisely because the head coaches of both schools had been held up as models of integrity. Now, sadly, they find their reputations crumbling around them as it became clear that neither man was as he was portrayed to be.

I think my reaction to these scandals is best summed up by the writer of Ecclesiastes: “there is nothing new under the sun” (Ecclesiastes 1:9). I share in the revulsion at the Penn State scandal, and shake my head sadly at the deception and greed found at Ohio State and Miami, but at the same time I am not shocked by any of it. The Bible tells us that “there is no one righteous, not even one” (Romans 3:10), and therefore despite the way people may put others on pedestals as models of integrity or righteousness, I know that there is none righteous except Jesus. “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23), and that includes esteemed football coaches. All of us, though created in the image of God and capable of incredible acts of goodness and beauty, are also fallen beings capable of the worst kinds of evil, often restrained only by our fear of getting caught instead of a desire for righteousness. There is truly no “model of integrity” except for Jesus Christ.

These scandals also reveal the power of idolatry, the danger that comes from making something other than Jesus your God, turning a created thing into the thing that gives your life meaning, comfort, and security. In the Ohio State and Penn State scandals, the big trespass committed by head coaches Tressel and Paterno was that others in their program were acting in ways that, if brought to light, could have serious repercussions for both themselves and their program. In the case of Ohio State, key players would be suspended, likely leading to games lost. In the case of Penn State, a top assistant coach would lose his job, hurting the team’s chances for success and possibly opening the door to further revelations of wrongdoing within the program. Both head coaches, faced with the choice to either expose the sin and risk their own security and success, or to hide the sin and protect their security and success, chose to hide the sin. By doing so, each coach revealed who they were truly worshiping – not God, but the idol of success, upon which all other things – their integrity, and the safety of young men – would ultimately be sacrificed.

You or I may not have the status or the pressure of a big-time college football coach, but each of us is faced with similar situations all the time. We are often put in a position where we must choose to either honor God and do the right thing and risk losing other things that we hold dear – the approval of others, important relationships, financial security – or sacrifice everything, including God, upon the altar of our idol. We make others look bad so that people will think well of us. We compromise ethically in order to raise profits. We settle for less than the best because we are afraid of being alone. We give in to another’s demands because we are afraid of losing a relationship. The pull towards self-preservation can be strong, and we are often too willing to sacrifice Jesus all over again in order to preserve our idols and maintain those things which promise to give our life meaning, comfort, and security.

Do not put your hope in anyone or any thing of this world, but put it in Jesus. There is no one righteous, no true man of integrity apart from Jesus. And ask God to expose the idols in your life, those things which, if not destroyed, may one day destroy you the way they did Tressel and Paterno.

This past Sunday, I preached on 1 Kings 19, a passage which includes the above verses. After three years of incredible faithfulness and trust in the face of life-threatening danger, Elijah finally breaks down in chapter 19, and in his despair asks God to take away his life. From the passage, it seems as if Elijah plans to sleep until he is dead, but God tenderly ministers to him, sending an angel to make him food, reminding him that he is not alone, speaking to him in the “still, small voice,” and giving him a reason to continue living.

Why is it that this passage speaks to me so much more powerfully than the showdown with the prophets of Baal, or the time Elijah raised the widow’s son from the dead, or the time he boldly confronted the king and declared that there would be no rain? After all, Elijah’s life is full of incredible highs, moments that display the greatness of God and the rewards of courageous obedience to Him. And this moment – Elijah giving up – is hardly among those highlights. So why does it minister to me so much?

The answer, I believe, is found in the words of the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah 40:27-31 is a well-known passage in which God asks his people why they are complaining that God has forgotten them. God’s answer to them is beautiful in its poetry and in the hope it offers:

“Why do you say, O Jacob, and complain, O Israel, ‘My way is hidden from the LORD; my cause is disregarded by my God’? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

The image of “soaring on wings like eagles” has captured the hearts of many Christians, resulting in songs, paintings, and sermons about God lifting us up on wings like eagles. But the thing that has always stood out to me about this verse is that “soaring on wings like eagles” is not the pinnacle of that sentence. Think about it – God does not say what we might expect:  “they will walk and not be faint! They will run and not grow weary!! They will soar on wings like eagles!!!” No, the verse seems to be the exact opposite of what we would expect. It’s as if the intro to Superman went like this: “It’s Superman! It’s a plane!! It’s a bird!!!”

But the order of those final three statements is no accident. The pinnacle – the miracle, if you will – according to God is NOT that we would soar on wings like eagles. It isn’t that we would run and not grow weary. The pinnacle of the verse, and of our journey with God, is that we would walk and not be faint. The miracle is not those times when we find ourselves on the mountaintop, fully in love with God and ready to give everything for Him. No, the miracle is when God gives us the strength to get back up when we are in despair, to put one foot in front of the other, to walk and not be faint. That is what the hope of the Lord gives us, according to Isaiah 40. It gives Elijah the strength to wake up and continue living for God when all he wanted to do was sleep until he died. And it gives you and me the strength to get back up when our world has fallen apart, when the dream has died, when life seems too hard and all we want to do is curl up and sleep until we die.

That is why 1 Kings 19:3-5 ministers to me more than the mountaintop experiences that precede it. As incredible and inspiring as those events are, the miracle is not in the soaring on wings like eagles, but in how God tenderly gives us the strength to put one foot in front of the other and not give up.

The point I was trying to communicate to those teens was that Jesus, not Eric Stillman or anyone else, was the only one worthy of worship, the only one who could truly transform their lives by His love and power. As a 21 year-old, it was so clear to me that even in my most seemingly holy moments, I knew that I was filled with self-centeredness and a desire to be worshiped above God (seriously, if I was brutally honest with myself it was ridiculous how many of my daydreams of good intentions ended with pretty girls saying “you’re my hero, Eric Stillman”). I knew, as the prophet wrote, that “all our righteous acts are like filthy rags” (Isaiah 64:6), and that, as Paul wrote, “nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature” (Romans 7:18). I was then, and always will be, a man of mixed motives, never sure whether he is singing worship songs for God’s ears or for the ears of others, preaching sermons to give glory to God or to gain glory for himself. No wonder Jesus told us to go into the privacy of our own rooms when we want to pray to God (Matthew 6:6).

But the good news, I have learned, is that God takes my offering, mixed motives and all, every time. He does not wait until my motives are pure, but accepts my worship and service even when it is not entirely done for His glory. I know this because of what Jesus tells us in Luke 15, the story of the Prodigal Son. This parable is about a young man who is tired of living on his father’s estate and so he asks his father for his share of the inheritance, essentially saying “Dad, you’re as good as dead to me.” And the son goes off to a far-off land, and has an awesome time spending all of his money in wild living. But after the money runs out, he finds himself broke, alone, and starving, longing to eat the food that the pigs are eating. And so he sets off for home – not because he knows he is wrong, I believe, but because he’s hungry and knows that in his father’s house, he’ll be taken care of (if his money had not run out, I guarantee he would have still been out partying). But with no money, and no food, he heads for home, ready to tell his father that he has sinned, and that he would like to work as one of his father’s hired hands. And in one of the most beautiful and unexpected scenes in all the Bible, the father, seeing his son from a distance, runs to him, hugs him, welcomes him home as his son, and throws a party to celebrate the return of his lost son.

Our God is a God who loves us and accepts our offering and our heart, mixed motives and all. While it is important to examine the motives behind what we do, for by doing so we learn humility as we see the truth of our messed-up heart, we can not let the realization that our motives are mixed paralyze us into inaction and despair. Instead, like the Prodigal Son, we set our eyes and our path towards the Father, to be with Him and to serve Him with what little we have to give. And our gracious and loving Father, forever merciful, accepts us and rejoices over our meager offering of devotion. All praise and glory is due to our great and holy God.

“Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)

 The lives of those who consider themselves followers of Jesus Christ are filled with both victory and defeat. With success and failure. With prosperity and hardships. With joy and suffering.   Paul describes what a servant of God may expect as a result of his obedience to Christ in 2 Corinthians 6:4-10. Some, however, are misguided and believe that the life of a Christian in this world is free of pain and full of comfort. But, Jesus never promised a life of comfort and easy-living for His disciples. Instead, He told them to take up their cross every day and follow Him (Luke 9:23).  Jesus also warns them that “in this world, you will have tribulation” (John 16:33, ESV).  

And so all Christians will go through tough times and endure hardships. Are you going through difficult times now? Is it from:

           Anxiety or stress in your marriage?

            Problems with the kids?

            Loneliness?

            Despair?

            Personal illness?  Illness in the family?

            Out of a job?

The list can go on and on. While a typical response, perhaps even a natural response, to these difficulties could be depression, fear, anger, and hopelessness, should this be the response of a follower of Jesus? 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 states, “Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” Notice it doesn’t say to be “joyful only when things are going your way,” but rather “in all circumstances.” Indeed, this is not by any means an easy thing to do. It is hard and seems downright impossible at times. But it is “God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” It is His will that you be joyful in your good times and bad times. To give Him glory for who He is regardless of your current situation.

Take a step back for your situation for a minute. Have you reminded yourself that you are loved and accepted as you are by the Creator of the universe? That you are intimately and personally loved by your Lord and Savior? That you were created in His image, handcrafted to do good works that He has prepared for you in advance (Ephesians 2:10)? That He in His infinite wisdom and power will work all things for good for those who love Him, which includes you, remember (Romans 8:28)? Did you forget that you are His sheep and He is your Shepherd? Did you forget that He laid down His life for His sheep? Don’t you remember that you are His beloved? That He calls you His friend (John 15:15)? Have you reminded yourself that He is your provider? Protector? Healer? That He is your strength and shield? That He is the mighty rock on which you can stand? A mighty warrior that fights for you? That intercedes for you? Did you forget that He rejoices and delights over you (Zephaniah 3:17)? Do you remember that He is your all in all? Your everything? 

Have you forgotten that He came and died for you personally so that you can be reconciled back to God and experience the joy, love, and grace of God? Did you forget that you are loved unconditionally, relentlessly, and completely by your Lord and Savior and you have done nothing to deserve it? 

Whatever situation you are in, these truths should bring joy to your heart. Perhaps even a longing for the day when “there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (Revelation 21:4). It is in remembering the free gift of His love and grace for you that you will have the ability to “be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18). 

I think it comes down to a matter of perspective. One of my good friends has this way of helping me realign my perspective back to the Lord. If I am stressing or anxious about something, he puts his hand on my shoulder, looks me in the eyes, and tells me, “Jimmy, don’t worry. You are going to Heaven.” Such a simple thing, but it always calms me down. It refocuses my sights back on Jesus as opposed to the worries and concerns of the world. It does not free me of my responsibility, but it gives me comfort and joy to remind myself of my ultimate and eternal destination. 

When it comes to our suffering, I feel how we respond depends on our perspective. If we focus on worldly things, then we run the risk of becoming more stressed or anxious, more depressed, more lonely, more hopeless. But if we fix our eyes on Jesus and His infinite love for us, we can find joy in the midst of our suffering. We can find freedom from the prison that anxiety, stress, despair, depression, loneliness, and hopelessness can put us in. By fixing our eyes on Him, we have hope that, with His help and strength, we can endure the hardship and grow closer and more dependent on Him through the process. And this hope is more than mere wishful thinking, but rather a guarantee, for He who guides you is faithful and loves you. 

Even though it is hard, do not let suffering and hardships shift your perspective off of Jesus. Do not give the enemy a chance to sway you with self-pity and despair to stop praising God. And don’t let arrogance and pride move your gaze from Him to yourself during joyful, “easy” times, either. Rather, in all circumstances, be joyful, pray continually, and give thanks for this is God’s will for you. I pray that we may all fight ferociously to keep our eyes fixed on our Lord and Savior, no matter what our situation is.

As a preacher, I have learned that one of the best ways to connect a message to a listener is to tell a personal story. As I prepare a sermon, my first priorities are to try to faithfully communicate the intent of the original author, as well as to discern what the text means for us in 21st century America. Then, after I have accomplished those goals, I try to make the message more interesting and memorable by adding personal stories, analogies, quotes, and so on.
But there is one thing I notice from time to time as I try to add personal stories. How many of my stories are from 10 years ago? How many of my God-moments happened in college, or in my days as a youth pastor? Do I have many recent examples of times when God showed Himself in memorable ways in my life, or am I depending on a faith from when I was younger? 

I love to tell the stories where God unmistakably proved Himself to be true in my life – like the time he provided a house for our youth group to meet in, or the time he revealed to me that despite my failures at UConn, He knew my heart and He knew I loved Him. But I have learned to be vigilant for whether or not I have any more recent stories of God’s reality in my life. Am I still living by faith today, taking risks, putting myself in places where I need God to show up? Or am I playing it safe, living on stories from the past, and living for my own security more than I am for God’s glory?

What about you? Do you have fresh, current testimonies of the reality of God in your life? Or are all your stories of the reality of God from 10 or 20 years ago? Praise God for those markers in your life where He showed Himself to be real. But do not grow complacent and timid along the path. Walk by faith, and not by sight, taking risks for God, praying bold prayers, and live in such a way that you will know without a doubt that God is real.

 I did not grow up Catholic, but I can only imagine the awkwardness that must surround the whole experience of confession. Revealing your hidden sins to a man you may or may not know very well, and then being instructed on what your penance is, may be a valuable spiritual exercise for some, but probably was not exactly what James had in mind when he wrote “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective” (James 5:16). When I read that verse, it seems to me that James was encouraging the Christians reading his letter to make confessing their sins to each other a regular part of their spiritual life, not to save their confession for the spiritual leader in their midst, because the simple acts of confession and prayer were powerfully effective.

I have been struck once again this past week at the power of confession, and particularly at the truth found in 1 John 1:9: “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” Most of us, if we know Jesus, understand the first part of this statement to be true, that God forgives sins when we confess them (to confess means to agree with God’s judgment on our sin, that what we have done is wrong). However, I’ve been encouraged recently by the second part of that statement, that when we confess our sins, God purifies us from all unrighteousness. My experience with confessing my sins to other people has been that when I overcome my embarrassment, lay down my pride, and admit my struggles or failings, immediately there is a power that is broken. As I “walk in the light as he is in the light,” as John writes in 1:7, the blood of Jesus purifies me from my sin. What I mean is that I find my desire for God renewed, and my desire to sin greatly reduced if not done away with completely. It’s as if God has indeed purified my heart by breaking the power that sin held over my heart and giving me a greater desire for Him and to live for His glory and honor.

What this means, I believe, is that one of the greatest weapons in our battle against sin and Satan is confessing to one another and praying for each other. Instead of trying to fight on your own, why don’t you lay down your pride and admit your struggles to a brother or sister in Christ? I can almost guarantee you that your brother or sister will not look down on you, but will be honored that you trusted them enough to share your burden with them and will gladly pray for you. And if you find yourself walking in the darkness, hiding your sins and struggles, step out into the light by confessing to someone else. Not only does God freely and graciously forgive, but He will also purify you from all unrighteousness as you admit your need for His help.

So what are you waiting for? Begin to walk in the light right now, and experience the purifying power of the Lord. And if you don’t have anyone to whom you can confess, I would encourage you to come out to either the men’s Fight Club (Wednesdays from 7-8:30 at NewLife) or the women’s Fight Club (1st & 3rd Thursdays from 7-8:30), as these gatherings are specifically designed to provide you with men and women who will support you in the challenges you are facing.

Lover and a Fighter

“He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young.”  (Isaiah 40:11)

“Then I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse!  The one sitting on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war.  His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on his head are many diadems, and he has a name written that no one knows but himself.  He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which he is called is The Word of God.  And the armies of heaven, arrayed in fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horses.  From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron.  He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty.  On his robe and on his thigh he has a name written, ‘King of kings and Lord of lords.’”  (Revelation 19:11-16)

When it comes to understanding godly masculinity, two extremes dominate modern (especially Western) culture.  One extreme prevails more in the world, the other in the church.  They might be fittingly labeled thus:  The Bully and The Sweetheart.

The Bully is king of his castle.  He will have his way.  He will be obeyed, and if not, there will be consequences.  He loves to display his glory, strength and power.  He may even resort to violence.  The Sweetheart, on the other hand, is exactly that—sweet.  He rarely makes waves or initiates conflict.  He is often quiet, meek, and tender as a lamb.  His mission in life is singular:  to be nice.

Neither extreme honors God.  Neither is biblical.  And Jesus comes to destroy them both.

Somewhere between these extremes is the God-man, Jesus Christ, not only our Savior and King but also our model for Christian masculinity; the One into whose image we are being conformed (Romans 8:29).  Jesus is tough and tender, fierce and friendly, a gatherer of lambs and a slaughterer of enemies, and he will not settle on his sons becoming anything less than a warrior and a priest—a lover and a fighter.

If you are a man, I want to invite you to Firewalk, a men’s weekend inspired by the book Wild at Heart by John Eldredge and led by men from Warrior Heart Ministries (Waco, TX). Firewalk is designed to purify and empower, to soften and embolden the hearts of men.  The Bullies will be tenderized; The Sweethearts, galvanized.  Do not miss this event.

Firewalk will be August 5th-7th at Camp Keswick (Monterey, MA). $100 covers food, lodging, and materials. (Make checks payable to NLCF, and be sure to note “Firewalk” in the memo line). Registration ends July 31st. For more info, contact:  Paul Joss 860.595.5131 or Brad Brinkley 903.814.0629

 In case you missed it, this past Monday, Joey Chestnut successfully defended his title at the Hot Dog Eating World Championships at the original Nathan’s Famous on Coney Island in New York. Chestnut successfully devoured 62 hot dogs and buns in 10 minutes by dipping his hot dogs in juice to moisten them before shoving them into his mouth.

 I will now pause to allow your stomach to settle.

 In many ways, the Hot Dog Eating World Championships are a great picture of what has become the American way of life. I can still remember as a child how fascinated I was by all-you-can-eat buffets, shopping sprees, and anything that promised me that I could have all that my eyes (or stomach) desired. How cool it would be, I thought, to have ten minutes to go through Toys R Us, grabbing all of the toys I could fit into my cart! How awesome to go to a restaurant where I could fill my plate with every kind of pie, ice cream, pudding, and sweet treat I desired!

 “I denied myself nothing my eyes desired; I refused my heart no pleasure.”

 I have a confession to make. Lately, I have been feeling like a glutton. Now, I realize I don’t look like a glutton. After all, I weigh roughly the same as I did when I was in high school, many years ago. But lately I have felt myself slipping into a frame of mind described by Solomon in Ecclesiastes 2:10 – “I denied myself nothing my eyes desired; I refused my heart no pleasure.” If I want it, I will eat it. And then go back for seconds. And I’m feeling the temptation in other areas as well. If I want it, and it’s within my reach, then I will take it, whether or not it is truly good for me.

 Maybe you’re asking, “What’s so wrong about that?” After all, we work hard so that we can have the freedom to do whatever we want, whenever we want to do it. TV on demand. Whatever we want to buy, just a click away. And when you read Ecclesiastes 2:10, you see that Solomon admits that his heart took delight in all of his work. His words tell us what we know to be true, that there is great pleasure to be had in an ice cream sundae, or the purchase of fine clothes, or some other sensual delight. But Solomon goes on to say that when he stepped back and surveyed his pursuit of pleasure, he realized that he had gained nothing, that he was simply chasing the wind, pursuing something that he could never catch.

 As followers of Jesus, we need to guard against the mindset Solomon discusses in Ecclesiastes 2:10: “I denied myself nothing my eyes desired; I refused my heart no pleasure.” The temptation of pleasure, of having whatever we want whenever we want it, is strong, and promises us a life of neverending happiness. But, as Solomon said, it is meaningless, a chasing after the wind. True happiness continues to lie just outside our grasp. Just one more dessert. One more shopping spree. One more sensual delight. Pleasure promises a lot, but does not fully satisfy us.

 Do you find yourself living as Solomon, denying yourself nothing your eyes desire, refusing your heart no pleasure? Listen and heed the words of the prophet Isaiah: “Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare” (Isaiah 55:2). Put down that sundae, put away your credit card, and do what the Psalmist exhorts: “Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart” (Psalm 37:4).

Well, the world did not end on May 21st, as Harold Camping had predicted. I am amazed not only that people still make end-of-the-world predictions, but that others actually believe the people who make those predictions, to the point of selling all they own. Truly, all that was needed in response to Camping’s prediction was a quick glance at Matthew 24:36, where Jesus says about his second coming, “No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.” It’s pretty simple, according to Jesus – if you think you know when the world will end, you are wrong.

But this post is not about Harold Camping and the end of the world. It’s about discernment. According to Tim Challies, the author of The Discipline of Spiritual Discernment, discernment is defined as “the skill of understanding and applying God’s Word with the purpose of separating truth from error and right from wrong.” It is the ability to hear a statement such as “the world will end on May 21st”, and measure it against the truth of God’s Word in order to separate truth from error.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been focusing more and more on the Holy Spirit and His ministry, in both my preaching and my personal devotion. Because the Holy Spirit is God with us, leading and guiding us, following the Holy Spirit can at times be a pretty subjective endeavor, which means that there is a need for great discernment as to what is actually of the Spirit and what is not. As I pay attention more and more to the Spirit, I have really appreciated the verses listed at the beginning from Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonian church. I appreciate the wise balance Paul exhibits in his exhortation to the church. He does not say “avoid everything that is spiritual,” nor does he say “accept everything that is spiritual.” Instead, he says, “Test everything.” Paul’s concern is that if we do not test everything, we run the risk of putting out the Spirit’s fire by rejecting things that are truly from God. And, at the same time, we are in danger of allowing all kinds of evil into our lives and into our church if we believe everything is from the Holy Spirit.

The New Testament is full of powerful verses on the importance of spiritual discernment. One of the best is found in Acts 17:11, where we read “Now the Bereans were of more noble character than the Thessalonians, for they received the message with great eagerness and examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true.” The church in Berea is an example of spiritual discernment at its best; they did not simply accept what Paul taught because he was called an apostle, but tested his message by comparing it to the truth of God as found in the Scriptures. In the same way, the wise and discerning Christian will not just accept something just because their pastor, a televangelist, a prophet, or any other “spiritual” person says that it is true, but will measure it against the truth of God’s Word. After all, as John reminds us in 1 John 4:1: “Dear friends, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world.” Not everyone who claims to speak for God truly speaks according to His Spirit and His truth.

The ability to discern between truth and error is one of the marks of a mature Christian. Consider this great passage from Hebrews 5:11-14: “We have much to say about this, but it is hard to explain because you are slow to learn. In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God’s word all over again. You need milk, not solid food! Anyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness. But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil.” The mature Christian has trained himself or herself to distinguish good from evil, and therefore does not to be retaught the basic truths of God’s Word.

In addition to considering what the Scriptures say about a teaching or experience, keep in mind the following as you seek to be a discerning person:

1) Is it edifying? Does this teaching or experience build me up and build up the body of Christ?

2) Does it lead to greater godliness or worldliness? Is the result coming out of this teaching or experience a deeper Christlikeness, or more selfish desires?

3) Does it magnify Jesus Christ, or detract from His glory?

4) What does the community of believers think? There is often great wisdom in seeking the discernment of other wise believers.

As we seek the Holy Spirit’s leading in our lives and in our church, may God give us the ability to discern the things of the Spirit from that which is not of Him. As Paul prayed in Philippians 1:9-11: “And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ– to the glory and praise of God.”

Today’s post is a favorite story of mine, taken out of Jim Cymbala’s Fresh Power. Cymbala is the pastor of the Brooklyn Tabernacle Church, and has written many wonderful books about the power of God to transform lives. This story is a testimony to the verse listed above, and is especially encouraging for all who give their life in service of the gospel.

Back in 1921, a missionary couple named David and Svea Flood went with their two year-old son from Sweden to the heart of Africa – to what was then called the Belgian Congo. They met up with another young Scandinavian couple, the Ericksons, and the four of them sought God for direction. In those days of much tenderness and devotion and sacrifice, they felt led of the Lord to set out from the main mission station and take the gospel to a remote area.

This was a huge step of faith. At the village of N’dolera they were rebuffed by the chief, who would not let them enter his town for fear of alienating the local gods. The two couples opted to go half a mile up the slope and build their own mud huts.

They prayed for a spiritual breakthrough, but there was none. The only contact with the villagers was a young boy, who was allowed to sell them chickens and eggs twice a week. Svea Flood – a tiny woman only four feet, eight inches tall – decided that if this was the only African she could talk to, she would try to lead the boy to Jesus. And in fact, she succeeded.

But there were no other encouragements. Meanwhile, malaria continued to strike one member of the little band after another. In time the Ericksons decided they had had enough suffering and left to return to the central mission station. David and Svea Flood remained near N’dolera to go on alone.

Then, of all things, Svea found herself pregnant in the middle of the primitive wilderness. When the time came for her to give birth, the village chief softened enough to allow a midwife to help her. A little girl was born, whom they named Aina. The delivery, however, was exhausting, and Svea Flood was already weak from bouts of malaria. The birth process was a heavy blow to her stamina. She lasted only another seventeen days.

Inside David Flood, something snapped in that moment. He dug a crude grave, buried his twenty-seven year-old wife, and then took his children back down the mountain to the mission station. Giving his newborn daughter to the Ericksons, he snarled, “I’m going back to Sweden. I’ve lost my wife, and I obviously can’t take care of this baby. God has ruined my life.” With that, he headed for the port, rejecting not only his calling, but God himself.

Within eight months both the Ericksons were stricken with a mysterious malady and died within days of each other. The baby was then turned over to some American missionaries, who adjusted her Swedish name to “Aggie” and eventually brought her back to the United States at age three.

This family loved the little girl and were afraid that if they tried to return to Africa, some legal obstacle might separate her from them. So they decided to stay in their home country and switch from missionary work to pastoral ministry. And that is how Aggie grew up in South Dakota. As a young woman, she attended North Central Bible College in Minneapolis. There she met and married a young man named Dewey Hurst.

Years passed. The Hursts enjoyed a fruitful ministry. Aggie gave birth first to a daughter, then a son. In time her husband became president of a Christian college in the Seattle area, and Aggie was intrigued to find so much Scandinavian heritage there.

One day, a Swedish religious magazine appeared in her mailbox. She had no idea who had sent it, and of course she couldn’t read the words. But as she turned the pages, all of a sudden a photo stopped her cold. There in a primitive setting was a grave with a white cross – and on the cross were the words SVEA FLOOD.

Aggie jumped in her car and went straight for a college faculty member who, she knew, could translate the article. “What does this say?” she demanded. The instructor summarized the story: It was about missionaries who had come to N’dolera long ago… the birth of a white baby… the death of the young mother… the one little African boy who had been led to Christ… and how, after the whites has all left, the boy had grown up and finally persuaded the chief to let him build a school in the village. The article said that gradually he won all his students to Christ… the children led their parents to Christ… even the chief had become a Christian. Today there were six hundred Christian believers in that one village…

All because of the sacrifice of David and Svea Flood.

For the Hursts’ twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, the college presented them with the gift of a vacation to Sweden. There Aggie sought to find her real father. An old man now, David Flood had remarried, fathered four more children, and generally dissipated his life with alcohol. He had recently suffered a stroke. Still bitter, he had one rule in his family: “Never mention the name of God – because God took everything from me.”

After an emotional reunion with her half brothers and half sister, Aggie brought up the subject of seeing her father. The others hesitated. “You can talk to him,” they replied, “even though he’s very ill now. But you need to know that whenever he hears the name of God, he flies into a rage.”

Aggie was not to be deterred. She walked into the squalid apartment, with liquor bottles everywhere, and approached the seventy-three year-old man lying in a rumpled bed.

“Papa?” she said tentatively.

He turned and began to cry. “Aina,” he said. “I never meant to give you away.”

“It’s all right, Papa,” she replied, taking him gently in her arms. “God took care of me.”

The man instantly stiffened. The tears stopped.

“God forgot all of us. Our lives have been like this because of him.” He turned his face back to the wall.

Aggie stroked his face and then continued, undaunted. “Papa, I’ve got a little story to tell you, and it’s a true one. You didn’t go to Africa in vain. Mama didn’t die in vain. The little boy you won to the Lord grew up to win that whole village to Jesus Christ. The one seed you planted just kept growing and growing. Today there are six hundred African people serving the Lord because you were faithful to the call of God in your life… “Papa, Jesus loves you. He has never hated you.”

The old man turned back to look into his daughter’s eyes. His body relaxed. He began to talk. And by the end of the afternoon, he had come back to the God he had resented for so many decades.

Over the next few days, father and daughter enjoyed warm moments together. Aggie and her husband soon had to return to America – and within a few weeks, David Flood had gone into eternity.

A few years later, the Hursts were attending a high-level evangelism conference in London, England, when a report was given from the nation of Zaire (the former Belgian Congo). The superintendent of the national church, representing some 110,000 baptized believers, spoke eloquently of the gospel’s spread in his nation. Aggie could not help going to ask him afterward if he had ever heard of David and Svea Flood.

“Yes, madam,” the man replied in French, his words being translated into English. “It was Svea Flood who led me to Jesus Christ. I was the boy who brought food to your parents before you were born. In fact, to this day your mother’s grave and her memory are honored by all of us.”

He embraced her in a long, sobbing hug. Then he continued, “You must come to Africa to see, because your mother is the most famous person in our history.”

In time that is exactly what Aggie Hurst and her husband did. They were welcomed by cheering throngs of villagers. She even met the man who had been hired by her father many years before to carry her back down the mountain in a hammock-cradle.

The most dramatic moment, of course, was when the pastor escorted Aggie to see her mother’s white cross for herself. She knelt in the soil to pray and give thanks. Later that day, in the church, the pastor read from John 12:24: “I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” He then followed with Psalm 126:5: “Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.”

If you have ever attempted to make a regular habit of prayer, Bible reading, fasting, or any other spiritual discipline, you know that it can be a frustrating endeavor. You have probably noticed that there are many times that prayer feels like talking to the ceiling, or Bible reading does not bring about great revelations, or fasting just leaves you with an empty stomach. We often feel like these exercises should be more meaningful, yet there are many times that they do not seem to bear much fruit.

But then, in God’s timing, whenever He so pleases, He shows up. We are overcome by His presence as we kneel in prayer. The Word that we read speaks directly into our situation. And in our fasting, we find ourselves hungry for more of Him. We can not force Him to show up, and we do not know what we did to cause Him to grace us with His presence, but all of a sudden, God is there in all of His reality and majesty.

 When I read the story of the young Samuel in 1 Samuel 3, I am reminded of that reality. The presence of God in those days was most powerful at the ark, and Samuel spends every evening lying down in the temple, close to the ark. Who knows how many nights he spent there, in that temple, before the ark. And as the text says, “In those days, the Word of the Lord was rare.” But then, one night, God speaks, calling to Samuel. Comically, Samuel goes three times to Eli before Eli realizes what is going on and tells Samuel to answer the Lord.

 What I see in Samuel’s story is a reminder that spiritual disciplines, drawing near to God, do not automatically produce the transforming presence of God every time; however, they are about putting ourselves in a position where God can show up and speak to us. We may come to God 99 days in a row in prayer and Scripture reading that simply seems fruitless and without benefit, yet that on that hundredth day, God shows up in power, and because we are “by the ark,” so to speak, we hear Him speak.

 This past week, I have had that kind of experience with fasting. I have fasted in the past out of a desire to seek God in a deeper way, or to ask for His help in a more desperate way. However, I have never had a transformative experience of His presence through that discipline. This time, however, was different. As I fasted this past week, I found myself with a burning desire to know Him, to put Him first above everything, including food. Even this week, as I have returned to eating again, I find myself looking forward to the next time I can skip a few meals and spend time with my God. I have found myself smiling in agreement with Jesus’ words in John 4:32-34, after the disciples offered him food in his hunger: “But Jesus said to them, ‘I have food to eat that you know nothing about.’ Then his disciples said to each other, ‘Could someone have brought him food?’ ‘My food,’ said Jesus, ‘is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work.’” I find myself with an unquenchable desire to do God’s work, no matter what the cost, and not even food can compare to the satisfaction that comes from doing His work.

 So do not be discouraged when your times of prayer, Bible reading, worship, or other disciplines are dry and seemingly meaningless. You are like Samuel, lying down near the ark, putting yourself in a position where God can speak to you. The Word of the Lord may be rare, and He may remain quiet for a long time, but when He does speak, you will be there to hear Him.

“Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:12-14)

I’m pretty sure I’ve touched on this before; “When you come to Christ you can’t help but to change for the better”.  At first I thought that being baptized would be a definitive and amazing transformation; I felt that all my past patterns, behaviors, anti-social impregnations, and lack of spiritual fortitude would simply dissolve, leaving a clean canvas on which to paint a new being.  But I was wrong.  Sure, becoming a new creation and knowing Christ erased my sins, but I still had a long way to go before I mirrored my Christian Brothers and Sisters in moral and righteous living.

So I began to learn, and most importantly, unlearn.  Not so long ago I was the guy who would drive past a person struggling with a garbage bag of returnable cans; I’d judge without mercy.  I would leave my grocery cart right in the middle of a parking space; without any consideration or regard.  I would flush the toilet while someone in my house was showering, causing an immediate and uncomfortable message of my feeling “du jour” for them, and feeding my passive-aggressive ways.  I would speed up my car to confirm my road dominance and thwart any roadway courtesy for other drivers trying to make a turn or move that would improve traffic fluidness that I would have hoped for, or expected.  Yeah, the list here could be endless. …you get the idea .

I have been really hard on myself for the past two years; and rightfully so.  I no longer do those things above.  Coming to Christ is like opening a door to a pristine, or better yet , “divine”  awareness.  I’ve always known right from wrong yet I have been selective in my choosing of the two on any given circumstance.  Now I have accountability through Christ my Lord.  Albeit, “progress, not perfection”. 

No magic pill, no wave of the wand, and no time machine to do a “do-over”.  Yesterday’s sins are forgiven, but I still own them; they are not forgotten.  I wouldn’t want to forget them.  This is my barometer to give me a tangible display of how much Christ is working my life.  Every night is my judgment day; every day is a fresh chance to add color to an otherwise colorless existence.

I have consolation in knowing that my mistakes did have bearing and they now serve as a starting point from which to improve.  The pardon I so eagerly needed gave me a forgiveness that I may have never known, if not for Christ.

Through the peace that I have in Christ, my daily shortcomings are manageable, my spiritual “to-do list” is not just tolerable, but enjoyable, and the entire journey is remarkable.  I live without remorse, only remembrance; I exist without fear, only hope; and I truly try to be a better person because now I have a good reason to: HIM.