Wednesday, October 12, 2016

Social Media Flavor

This morning I read in Acts 16 about how Paul and Silas experienced extreme injustice in Philippi. Despite being Roman citizens, they're condemned, beaten, and jailed without trial - their rights were completely trampled. For many of us, once thrown in jail, we'd likely be complaining about the injustice and likely scheming about how to get the corrupt officials who had done this removed permanently.

Imagine what Paul and Silas could have tweeted in that moment:

"HELP! Falsely accused and jailed! Hate this town and its officials!" #miscarriageofjustice #firethephilippianjailer

Or they could have gone on a Facebook rant to decry the unreasonable and completely unjustified treatment they received. They had rights and should be granted the protections afforded by those precious rights. Nobody would have blamed them for truthfully posting their frustration with the situation and the people responsible.

Obviously they had no smartphones, but note how they responded in verse 25. It recounts that Paul and Silas are found praying and singing praises to God. This is powerful, but it was the final phrase of the verse that arrested my thoughts this morning.

"and the prisoners were listening to them...."

Do we feel the implication of that today? Yes, we have all been and will be trampled on in a myriad of ways (e.g. politically, emotionally, vocationally, spiritually, relationally, physically, mentally), but have we forgotten that our responses are being heard by listening ears of the "prisoners" all around us?

Does my presence on social media (which I recently heard aptly described as "that swamp of indiscretion") reflect a heart of prayer and worship? Am I, in any way, using facebook, twitter, instagram, snapchat or whatever my preferred platform to talk past others? I may be convinced I am speaking the truth, but I can be right and be wrong at the top of my voice or with my pejorative and condescending tone.

Jesus was so wonderful because he perfectly blended grace and truth (John 1:14). Would people say that describes my public reaction when things irritate me, when others trample on me, when my world is being threatened unfairly? What's the flavor of my social media presence - especially in this political season?

The story continues with an earthquake that destroys the jail and releases Paul and Silas with all the other prisoners. The jailer arrives on the scene ready to kill himself because he fears the prisoners have escaped and nothing short of his own death will suffice as payment for the escape of even one prisoner. Before he can harm himself, however, Paul cries out that ALL of the prisoners are there.

Now I get why Paul and Silas stuck around, but why would all the other prisoners forego personal freedom in this situation? I can only imagine because they had listened to Paul and Silas and knew they were the real deal who served a real and living God. The things they heard from Paul and Silas (both words and our tone) impacted them greatly. And it holds true today.

When you go to tweet or post today, please remember this: plenty of prisoners are listening.

What will they hear?

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

At NPBC, we're moving through a four week series called Money Lies. The title is designed to be a double meaning with the dual force of:

1) In our American culture, we have some deeply held beliefs about money that are patently false.

2) Money can be personified in the sense that it actually speaks seductively deceptive words to us.

In the first three weeks, we've explored the following lies:

  • Accumulating treasure is wrong
  • If you win, I lose
  • Money is the root of all evil
  • Godliness brings material blessing
  • I could be satisfied if I only had enough money
  • If I had enough money I'd be secure
  • Generosity flows from surplus
  • I earned my wealth
  • Giving will impoverish me

If you're interested to listen to any of these, check out our Sermon page:

http://npberean.org/sermons-2/

For just a few moments, I'd like to highlight that second-to-last lie, "I earned my wealth."  In the previous post I referenced 2 Corinthians 8:9 that states, " For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ: Though He was rich, for your sake He became poor, so that by His poverty you might become rich."


The spiritual and material worlds often mirror one another and Paul's point is this - it was by the kindness of Jesus and his willingness to impoverish himself that we could receive any spiritual riches. What did we do to earn that spiritual wealth? 

Absolutely nothing.

Jesus did not save me on the basis of my righteousness (Titus 3:5). His grace is simply a free gift that I could not do anything to earn (Ephesians 2:8-9). Jesus bestows (isn't that a great word) his riches on all who simply call on him in humility (Romans 10:11-13)

And just like the spiritual world, we don't actually earn our material wealth. Yes, I'm sure you work as hard, if not harder, than I do. But who gives us the ability to work hard? Who gave us the opportunity to be born into the country where we could have our job? Who gives us the health to continue in our job? Who gave us the mind or body to face the challenges of our job?

The answer to each of these is God. And God anticipated we might think we're the ones creating our wealth. Check out Deuteronomy 8:17-18 for God's perspective on how income is generated.

And when we realize how much we've been given, we understand that every iota of wealth we currently possess is simply a gift. Without God's kindness, we would have nothing. 

And that's why we can be generous with any wealth we do have - it's all a gift from him to us. Now we have the opportunity to use that gift for Kingdom purposes. But we'll be ever-tempted to veer toward stinginess when we think we earned it with our efforts. 

Let's reject that lie.

Tuesday, September 6, 2016

Lepers -- All of Us.

So I was reading the Resolutions of Jonathan Edwards (which is well worth your time to read and can be found here: http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/the-resolutions-of-jonathan-edwards)

Here's the one that grabbed me today:


69. Resolved, always to do that, which I shall wish I had done when I see others do it. Aug. 11, 1723.

Immediately I was stirred that I often read the writings of others and wonder if I should try to write as well. I confess that I feel intimidated that I don't really have anything of real value to say. I'm pretty convinced that my best thoughts are those that I glean from other people, and I don't consider myself the most creative individual. An insecurity of what people might think about me and my less than perfectly formed thoughts has stopped me from writing publicly since 2009.

Emboldened by Jonathan Edwards' admonition, I'm giving it a shot today. 

Read Mark 1:40-41. Slowly. Don't move too fast. Here it is:

And a leper came to him, imploring [Jesus], and kneeling said to him, "If you will, you can make me clean." Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand and touched him and said to him, "I will; be clean."

How marvelous is that?! And isn't this an amazing picture of how it is for everyman and everywoman who would approach Jesus? Notice the richness of the text.

The leper came imploring. The man clearly understood who he was - an outcast of society and he had no right to even be near Jesus (let alone ask Jesus for a favor). His posture is one of imploring (notice he kneels as he speaks) Jesus for help. We are lepers - spiritual outcasts who have no right to be near God on our own merit, so we come in humility pleading for His intervention. 

The leper had faith. "If you will, you can make me clean." What a great statement of faith. He was absolutely confident that Jesus had the power to heal - if only He would graciously condescend to heal this undeserving leper. We must approach Jesus with the faith that He really can restore us from the spiritual leprosy that plagues us.

Jesus was moved with pity. I love the emotion that Jesus shows here, but I couldn't help but think about the many times when I've heard a person say, "I don't want your pity." There is still pride in that sentence, but the leper was unfazed by the pity of Jesus. In fact, the pity of Jesus was exactly what he desired, and then Jesus went a step farther.

Jesus touched the leper. It's one thing for Jesus to pity this man but another entirely for him to actually touch the leper. This ceremonially unclean leper, if touched, would spread his uncleanness to the unfortunate person who touched him (intentionally or not). Jesus will be unclean by touching the leper! And yet, in a stunning twist, Jesus isn't corrupted. His holiness and purity overcomes the man's disease.

I will; be clean. Those are the wonderfully sweet words to a heart imploring Jesus in humility to bring healing. Those are the same words Jesus offers to any sinner who would recognize her or his sin problem. 

Naturally, we are all lepers. Spiritually unclean whose only hope is to implore Jesus, in humility, to heal us of a disease from which we can't rid ourselves. Jesus sees that heart and, moved with pity, touches us in our sinfulness and consents to cleanse us. 

And He did so at the greatest cost to Himself - His own death on a cross.

That's worth marveling at today.