Simple Things: A Devotion for Advent

“So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David.  He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.  While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son.  She wrapped him in strips of cloth and placed him in a manger, because there was no room in the inn.”  Luke 2:4-7

            The storming of the Bastille was the seminal event that unleashed the tumultuous French revolution; Europe would never be the same.  And yet, astonishingly, King Louis XVI’s diary entry for that day was “14/7 1789: Nothing”.

            Sometimes the greatest historical events are missed by contemporary observers, and that was certainly the case with the birth of Jesus. A relatively poor husband, a soon-to-be mother, and an unborn child stood poised to change the course not just of history, but of eternity, yet there was nothing to mark the grand occasion--no parades, no banners, no reporters, not even the most basic comforts.
            Martin Luther writes, “Behold how very ordinary and common things are to us that transpire on earth, and yet how high they are regarded in heaven. On earth it occurs in this wise: Here is a poor young woman, Mary of Nazareth, not highly esteemed, but of the humblest citizens of the village.  No one is conscious of the great wonder she bears, she is silent, keeps her own counsel, and regards herself as the lowliest in the town….  Imagine how she was despised at the inns and stopping places on the way, although worthy to ride in state in a chariot of gold.”
            If you were writing People magazine during the first century, there would be thousands of couples you’d include before you would mention this one.  Mary was from the segment of the population that would never be featured in People magazine.  Luther goes on, “There were, no doubt, many wives and daughters of prominent men at that time, who lived in fine apartments and great splendor, while the mother of God takes a journey in mid-winter under most trying circumstances.”
            How much we miss when our eyes follow glamour instead of substance, and romance instead of love!  “They were the most insignificant and despised, so that they had to make way for others until they were obliged to take refuge in a stable, to share with the cattle, lodging, table, bedchamber and bed, while many a wicked man sat at the head in the hotels and was honored as lord.  No one noticed or was conscious of what God was doing in that stable… See how God shows that he utterly disregards what the world is, has or desires; and furthermore, that the world shows how little it knows or notices what God is, has and does.”
            This Christmas season, let’s remind ourselves that the values of God’s Kingdom bear little resemblance to this world’s.  This ignored baby would one day teach His disciples, “the first shall be last, and the last shall be first.”  But even at His birth He demonstrated, as Luther writes, “the world’s greatest wisdom is foolishness, her best actions are wrong and her greatest treasures are misfortunes.” 
            As followers of this humble baby, we are called to notice those whom a world lusting after glamor often ignores. We are to prize character over immodesty, generosity over affluence, and humility over power.  We are not to value people because they have fine clothes, expensive cars, or famous faces—God’s greatest heroes are often nondescript, anonymous, and less than pleasing to the eye.
            Luther reminds us, “Behold how very richly God honors those who are despised of men…  The angels [couldn’t] find princes or valiant men to whom to communicate the good news; but only unlearned laymen, the most humble people upon earth… See how utterly God overthrows that which is lofty!  And yet we rage and rant for nothing but this empty honor, as if we had no honor to seek in heaven.”
            This advent, what do you find yourself seeking--approval from the world, success in society’s eyes, or obedience to the King of Kings? 
            If God has placed you in a high place, good for you—be faithful where you are.  If God has called you to an entry level position, or one of utter anonymity, concern yourself with the applause of heaven, not being mentioned in The Huffington Post, The New York Times, or USA Today.  What I love about worshipping at Second Baptist in Houston is that a CEO sits next to the receptionist; a business owner passes the communion plate to a customer; the banker studies Scripture with the mortgage holder. 
            What binds us isn’t our status in the world, but our union in Christ.  Those who seek glamor and fame would have missed Jesus while panting at the feet of Herod.  May we not make such a foolish mistake.

Every Body Matters

Simply Sacred

Sacred Marriage Gift Edition

300 Pound Pastors? Let's Start the Conversation (for leaders only)

When Mark Bejsovec, a youth pastor, saw the scale creep over 300 pounds, he gulped.  During his high school football playing days, he carried just 186 pounds on his six-foot-two frame.  In his early thirties, however, Mark started gaining weight steadily. At first, he rationalized it and even began using it like a tool. It made him seem funnier. He could push out his stomach until he looked like he was pregnant, and the kids in his ministry would laugh: “You look like you got twins!”

When he hit 300 pounds, though, Mark began to sense God speaking to him about his physical condition.

“I looked into Scripture, specifically at the men in the Bible who assumed leadership roles, and wondered how they must have looked. I couldn’t find anyone in leadership who was overweight.”

This wasn’t about vanity, but rather about being a better steward of his body and his calling: “If I was addressing only spiritual issues but not the physical ones, I considered I would be less useful to the Lord in my ministry. If I was going to remain in ministry, I needed to honor God with all my heart, all my soul, all my mind, and also all my body.”

By definition, we can’t be a leader in secret.  Somebody is following us.  And the bodies we are leading with aren’t hidden.

A friend of mine, who works as a senior director for a major Christian development organization, recently shared with me the battle he faces with eating and exercise.  On a recent business trip, he ate twenty-four restaurant meals in a row. He’s concerned about his health habits, and like many, he lives with a constant sense of failure that he could be doing more about his weight. What he doesn’t see are spiritual leaders taking this struggle as seriously as he does.  “We’ve been taught in the evangelical tradition about adultery and lying and stealing and coveting,” he says, “and about lust and alcoholism and smoking and drug abuse. But many evangelical pastors who preach against these things are visibly overweight or obese. I don’t say this to judge them—I struggle with the same thing. But sometimes I wonder. Sure, they may have conquered the online porn, but it seems like they’re ‘medicating’ with food; I get that, because I do the same thing.”

For his part, Mark decided to quit his former eating habits cold turkey. When his weight started coming off, Mark experienced a rush of positive energy. “I started feeling more affirmed, my self-esteem went up, and my relationship with God grew. It’s not that my previous life didn’t honor God, but now it felt like I was living like God designed me to live.”

When I asked Mark what changed most about his life since he lost seventy pounds, he responded, “Let’s be honest: there were times I was discredited because of the way I looked. When I talked to kids about self-control in other areas, they could look at me and understandably ask why I wasn’t addressing my issues with food. But now, when I share my story, there’s an added inspirational element. If I can do it, anyone can do it, and my weight loss has become an effective tool in my ministry.”

As a writer whose most prominent books relate to marriage, I take it as a personal challenge to maintain the integrity of my own marriage.  I can’t write and teach on marriage if my own is falling apart.  As a pastor, however, when I talk to the church about self-control; when I preach on the necessity of personal discipline, good stewardship in all areas of life, and, above all, when I teach out of 1 Corinthians 6:20: “You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body” I am going to completely undercut my message if I’m preaching out of a body that denies this.

It would be convenient if being a leader didn’t require also being an example, but that’s not the case.  Paul writes, “Follow me as I follow Christ.” (1 Cor. 11:1)

Leaders, let’s ask ourselves, “Is my body serving or thwarting my message?”  If you’re a pastor, you may well have accepted financial sacrifice for the privilege of being in the ministry; if you’re a leader of any type, you have readily accepted the sacrifice of your time, tranquility, and even reputation, as leadership assaults all of these.  But will you also accept bodily sacrifice—watching what you eat, and putting in the effort to get appropriate exercise? Will you recognize that the body out of which you lead can either support or undercut the message that you carry?

I am not suggesting that we pick leaders by how thin they are, or that we make a direct connection between a person’s BMI and his holiness. That would be ridiculous, ignorant, and unfair—some bodies aren’t designed to be thin, other bodies seem to naturally stay thin regardless of how they are cared for or fed, but leaders, we know our own journey, we know whether this area of stewardship is feeding or hindering our maturity and ministry. Don’t all of us feel better, stronger, more energetic, when we’re being faithful in this area?  And don’t we all know that there are negative consequences when we get careless?

So, in a spirit of encouragement and grace, let’s admit that this is something we need to start talking about. Just as we seemed eager to denounce the opulent affluence and money-raising scandals of the 1980s televangelists, let’s not be blind to our own contemporary challenges at the dawn of the 21^st century.

For more on this topic, check out Every Body Matters: Strengthening Your Body to Strengthen Your Soul. 

What Your Family Is Really Hungry for This Thanksgiving

            This Thanksgiving, your family and friends are hungry for more than turkey and pumpkin pie; more than they want to watch the Detroit Lions and the Dallas Cowboys take on their annual opponents, whether they know it or not, they are hungry for…God.

            Maybe they know God but have lost their way and are stumbling around.  Maybe they’ve tried everything but God and are facing the bitter consequences, wondering if they have wrecked their life beyond repair.  Maybe they just need a listening ear, a word of encouragement, a rest from the chaos of their life.

            They may arrive in garish sweaters, various states of sobriety and fashion, but what they secretly want is some visit, some sign, some evidence, that God is really acting on this world, visiting this world, impacting this world.  We all want to see God’s power, God’s reality, God himself break through and show us that He exists. We hunger for splashes of heavenly glory on this earthly stage, because God planted that hunger in our hearts.

            Here’s the good news: God is just as hungry to show Himself to you, your family and friends, and the sobering news is, this Thanksgiving He wants to do it through you.

            Living a life of “holiness” isn’t a life defined primarily by piety—what we avoid doing, etc.—it’s a life of availability.  Holiness literally means “set apart,” which assumes we are set apart for something—in this case, to be used by God to show His presence and glory to others.

Once we surrender our bodies in this way, we become living and breathing centers of possibility—a force that God can use to impact the world. This truth teaches us to see our lives as a call to represent Christ wherever we go, whether it’s at a high school basketball game, a Thanksgiving dinner, the dreaded Department of Motor Vehicles Office, or even standing in line on “Black Friday.” Regardless of our location, we can live with a sense of offering ourselves up to God so that he can encourage his children and reach out to the lost. “Availability to God” is all about being in tune with God, ready to be used by God, and living for God on a moment-by-moment basis.

            Will you make yourself available to God when you least expect to be called upon this weekend?  Instead of simply surviving the weekend, or bracing yourself for the usual onslaught of family dysfunction or triviality, why not see if God will break through in an extraordinarily new way? Just because we make ourselves available to God doesn’t mean we’ll experience an unending string of miraculous encounters and exciting celestial conversations. God moves as he wills, where he wills, when he wills. But it is still an appropriate and necessary act of worship to present ourselves before God, saying, “Here I am. If you want to do something through me, I’m ready.”

            This weekend, before you get in the car, hop on a plane, or open your front door to the rest of the family, pause for a moment and pray, “Lord, make me sensitive. I’m offering my ears, mind, tongue, hands, and eyes. Fill them with your presence so that I could be your servant. Let me see what’s really going on. Let me hear what’s really being said. Let me care the way you care. And give me a tongue that will say just what you want said.”

            Maybe something will happen; maybe nothing will.  But making yourself available is so pleasing to God, in and of itself.

            Will you do that?  Will you make yourself available, and lose the mindset of simply “surviving” the family gathering?

            More than an obligation, this is the threshold to an exciting and fulfilling life and a wonderful holiday. It’s exactly what Paul was talking about when he called Christianity “the only race worth running.” When every moment becomes pregnant with divine possibility, and when each situation provides opportunity for God to manifest himself through us, there’s nothing else like it.

This blog entry was adapted from my book,  Holy Available.

The Cost of Not Being a Sold Out Christian: Can You Afford It?

In his book The Great Omission, Dallas Willard presents the cost of not being completely sold-out to Jesus.  I love this passage:

“The cost of nondiscipleship is far greater—even when this life alone is considered—than the price paid to walk with Jesus, constantly learning from him.  Nondiscipleship costs abiding peace, a life penetrated throughout by love, faith that sees everything in the light of God’s overriding governance for good, hopefulness that stands firm in the most discouraging of circumstances, power to do what is right and withstand the forces of evil.  In short, nondiscipleship costs you exactly that abundance of life Jesus said he came to bring (John 10:10).”

Willard covers so much, but can you think of anything else?  What else does not following Jesus with all our heart, soul, mind and strength, cost us?

Falling Into Love, Growing Into Divorce

While “love” is something many people think they fall into, studies show that divorce is something we usually grow into.  

William Doherty, professor of family social science at the University of Minnesota, provides an insightful distinction between what he calls “hard reasons” and “soft reasons” that split couples up and lead to divorce.  In Doherty’s view, “hard reasons” include “chronic affairs, chemical dependency, and gambling” in which “The person is not willing to change.  They have a drinking problem and won’t get it fixed.  They’re gambling the family money away and won’t get help.”  “Soft reasons” include “general unhappiness and dissatisfaction, such as growing apart and not communicating.”  (USA Today, Sept. 29, 2011, pt. 1-2D.)

Doherty found that most marriages aren’t destroyed by “hard reasons” but rather by “soft” ones.  In Doherty’s study, the number one reason couples gave for getting a divorce was “growing apart,” followed by “unable to talk together,” “how spouse handles money, “spouse’s personal problems,” and “not getting enough attention.”  I’m not sure how Doherty defines “spouse’s personal problems,” but at first glance, none of the top five reasons given are biblical excuses for ending a marriage.  It’s not until number six that “infidelity” is mentioned.

What this study highlights is that even when marital satisfaction reaches a crisis point, the problem isn’t the marriage, but our lack of skills. Quite frankly, on a relational and spiritual level, most of us are seriously under qualified to enter marriage.  We soon find that we’re in “over our heads” and feel like we’re drowning.  Marriage all but demands that we grow, and a lot of us either resent the implication that we need to grow or are too lazy to work towards personal growth.

When “soft issues” are the problem, divorce is a very ineffective shortcut.   Instead of finding a new spouse, we need to learn new ways to express empathy.  Instead of getting a divorce, we need to get rid of laziness.  Instead of searching for a new partner, we need to search for ways we can stay connected.  If you don’t address the lack of relational skills that caused the first marriage to fail, the second one will, too—because, again, the problem isn’t who you chose to marry; the problem is who you’re becoming (and what you’re not becoming)in the marriage.    

The USA Today article also quotes Susan Heitler, a clinical psychologist who notes that marriage is a “very high-skilled activity.  If your marriage is failing, make the assumption your skill set is insufficient.”

You see, our assumption is all too often that our spouse is insufficient; therefore, the only logical solution is to get a new spouse.  If we assume that our skill set is insufficient, that there are things we need to learn about not becoming lazy in our relationship, practicing empathy, growing in humility, generosity and gratefulness, then we’ll see marital dissatisfaction as a call to grow deeper in holiness rather than a call to dissolve our family.

I’ve said it before: most couples don’t fall out of love so much as they fall out of repentance.  Persistent character weaknesses—laziness, arrogance, pride, selfishness, bitterness, a sense of entitlement, and so on—kill far more marriages than active affairs, chemical dependency or abandonment.  The answer isn’t pursuing “happiness;” it’s pursuing holiness.  By God’s grace, we can grow in each of these areas. 

Dr. Heitler suggests that if both parties “will each take personal responsibility and focus on their own skills upgrade, the whole picture turns around.  Even one person can turn the marriage around.”

Doesn’t this make sense?  What if we assumed marital dissatisfaction is usually an issue of character, not mismatching, and thus began working on ourselves instead of getting rid of our spouse and trying to find a new one?  What if, indeed, we found marriage as a call to holiness more than happiness, and then discovered that in the pursuit of holiness we actually achieved a level of happiness we never thought possible?

Hmmm.  Somebody ought to write a book about this…

Facing Uncommon Temptations

Have you ever found yourself in a moment of intense temptation? Your heart pounds, your conscience is screaming, but you end up watching yourself, almost like a movie, collapsing into sin?

There are common temptations, little flickers of excitement, smaller acts of compromise, that often don’t require much more than a quick dismissal or a refocusing of our hearts to resist. But there are other temptations, the kind we’re talking about here, that require a more serious defense.

One of Satan’ favorite tricks in such moments is to try to cleverly turn our truest help and ally into an enemy. His deception works like this—he wants us to view God in such moments as either our judge or a passive spectator who is looking on to see how we respond. If we fall into either trap, viewing God and treating God as either, we become helpless and are all but certain to fall. God desires to be our savior and helper.

Scripture (Psalm 70:1; Jesus in Matthew 26:41; 1 Cor. 10:13) and the ancients call us to a much different response: earnestly, consciously, even desperately admitting our helplessness in the face of temptation, and imploring God’s aid.

Alphonsus Liguori (18th century) counsels, “We must play the part of beggars…[praying] ‘My Jesus, mercy; do not let me be separated from you. O Lord, come to my aid. My God, help me!’”

Satan wants us to view God as an observer, not a participant, in our battle against these uncommon temptations. One of our strongest weapons is prayer, through which we tap into God’s active power. “We absolutely require God’s help to overcome temptations. And sometimes, in the face of more violent assaults, the sufficient grace that God gives everyone would be enough for us to resist them; but on account of our inclination to evil, it is not, and we need a special grace. Those who pray receive it; but those who don’t pray, don’t receive it, and are lost.”

There are certain temptations that a strong character can withstand; our previous devotions have rooted us in Christ, and the ammunition Satan uses against us in these common times are more like BBs than bullets. They may sting, but they don’t penetrate our hearts. However, in the face of more violent spiritual assaults, Satan brings out the armor-piercing ammo. In these moments, we are helpless unless we immediately remember God’s role as our friend; He is not a spectator, but an active defender. Such temptations are won, ironically enough, on the back of humility. We recognize we will fall on our own, and so cast ourselves on a foreign power, one God is only too willing to provide.

Instead of viewing God as watching to see if we fall, Jesus and the ancients counsel that we admit our weakness and implore God’s active assistance. When facing temptations that are bigger than us, past spiritual experience, carefully cultivated character, and even previous moments of study and worship are not strong enough to carry us through them. We need an immediate, active force, a deliverer and conquering hero. It is not our strength that is being tested, but our humility. We fight with weakness, admitting our need and learning to depend on God. The clearest sign of such humility is honest and earnest prayer.

If you view God as either your spectator or judge in these intense moments, the battle is lost. He is your helper, your friend, and savior. Go to him. Admit your need for him. Recognize that prayer is the primary way to tap into his provision. Such “uncommon temptations” are allowed to show us our ongoing spiritual poverty and ever-growing need for God’s mercy.