I Can't Go Like This, I Have To Change...

Now I say this, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God; nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable.  Behold, I tell you a mystery; we will not all sleep, but we will all be changed, (1 Corinthians 15:50,51 NASB)

 One of the most difficult hurdles to overcome in seeking the glimpses of Himself God hid in Scripture is our ourselves.  I have things I want, things I've seen, things I've expected, and few of them correspond to my Master's perspective on things.  He sees things differently, and from a different perspective than I have right now.  That makes Him difficult to understand.

One of the things of which we seem unaware is our assumption that this place (i.e. the world or earth) faithfully represents what we can expect for the future.  Many here are telling us that this world is changing, and our future is uncertain.  Others claim that the changes are cyclical and it will all come around again to a better situation.  Even if it is cyclical, the number of beings and what they were doing was dramatically different in the last cycle, so the results will be different the next go around.  It always takes longer to dry more clothes.

What God inspired in Scripture says that there will be a new heaven and new earth.  Since we know so little of the 'heaven' (and I'm referring to astronomical heavens, not spiritual) there's little to gleaned from 'different'; we wouldn't even know really, other than what it looks like.  On the other hand, a new earth would be an enormous change for us.  Yet, we are so enamored and focused on this one, our lives here, and the next day.  It's all going to change.

This experience I pass through here is nothing to be compared to what I will know in heaven (or the new earth).  But I still rarely look past the next day.  I'm stressed about finishing the next two months well at work, year-end sales, deadlines, and goals.  That's not why I was created, and not to what my Master saved me.  It's not His purpose for my life, nor was it ever supposed to be my focus.  Yet, it's so distracting to me, that I can barely see past it.

We will all be changed, even if we don't all 'sleep'; we will all be changed.  This life, and these experiences, are not what make up what I look forward to.  In fact, Paul says in Romans 8 that all of creation groans waiting for the 'children of God' to finally be revealed; it's all waiting on us.  Everything is looking forward to a new existence; except for us.

Think about the waste of resources in that our Creator gives us minds that can imagine past this existence to new worlds, new vistas, and yet we won't.  He says that is what we have to look forward to, not this, yet we see only this because we choose to.  As believers and followers of Jesus, shouldn't we be looking toward His throne, His face, His voice?  Shouldn't we be looking past what is 'perishable' toward what will never perish?  Wouldn't that be a better use of our time and resources?  It would give us a hope which would baffle this place and people.

Reality is the term we use to refer to our actual experiences and situations; distinct from what can be imagined or 'dreamed'.  For Christians, those who claim Jesus as Lord, who believe He was raised from the dead, for us, reality is actually on the other side of whatever we can imagine or dream.  We are called into a new 'reality' redefined by the One who made us, lost us, then saved us, because He loves us. 

My challenge is to look beyond my current situation, and let the hope which results make enduring this reality much easier.  I let it happen.  All I do is focus on my Master's face, His throne, and His glory.  Then this stuff will fall into proper perspective for me.  Why would I think of worship as merely something I do on Sunday when I desperately need it all the time, just to make it through an hour at work?  I think I should be smarter than that.

Investing in the Eternal

Love never fails; but if there are gifts of prophecy, they will be done away; if there are tongues, they will cease; if there is knowledge, it will be done away.  For we know in part and we prophesy in part; but when the perfect comes, the partial will be done away.  When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things.  For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known.  But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:8-13 NASB)

So, I don't have anything before my Master without love.  I love because I worship my Master; it's a normally produced fruit of worship.  And now, what now?  Where's Paul going now?  I think, if I'm not mistaken, that Paul is heading to the 'end of the story'.  This is the 'motivation' for going through all this, and continuing on with it.

One of the things about life with God that is supposed to ultimately motivate us, but today, gets shoved to the back of our minds, is heaven.  One day, followers of Jesus will join Him in heaven.  One day.  It's only been 2,000 years, and I suspect people now are getting a little ashamed at holding on to this belief or using it to motivate.  But yes, one day, Jesus will return for us.

Here Paul points out that while love never has an end, the other stuff does.  Prophesy will be put to an end, tongues stilled, and knowledge will be put to an end (like prophesy).  Think about this.  Why will love continue, but the others won't?  Paul goes on to explain...

When the complete comes, the 'parts' will be put to an end.  In other words, in heaven, when we know fully even as we are fully known, there won't be a need for 'gifts of knowledge' or 'gifts of prophesy' because everyone in heaven will already know everything.  In that day, love will characterize our eternal lives, so love will continue on into eternity.  The other verses through 12 continue to support this view.

The last verse, 13, lists three that remain.  Prophesy, tongues, and knowledge are all gone.  Faith, hope, and love remain.  They don't pass away, but consider Hebrews 11 for a moment: "Faith is the assurance of what is hoped for..."  So, faith and hope are tied together, in that what we hope for is made firm by faith.  In Romans 8:24, we're told that no one hopes for what they see, and in hope we have been saved; the salvation is not completely seen, not yet.  But what's the connection to love?

I suspect that to have faith, we must first have hope.  Without hope, faith doesn't have anything to substantiate; and faith without hope is fake faith.  By grace we have been saved, through faith.  And this 'by-grace-through-faith' transaction is not from ourselves, but a gift of God.  The connection between hope, faith, and love traces through the actions of God on our behalf.  Once we see Him face-to-face, hope will be completed because we will see.  Faith will itself be substantiated by experience of the presence of God.  What will be left will be an eternal life of love.

What I see Paul doing here is finishing off any residual argument about continuing to focus on the wrong thing.  Love first because we will love longest.  The rest will all pass away.  For Paul, since he believed Jesus' return was right around the corner, the call was to live as if it all comes down to today, because for him, it could.  What about for me?

The reality is that I'm not given any assurance of another day.  No one is.  So, it does come down to today, every day.  But I have so many of these 'today's that it's hard to keep on going since I know that it didn't happen yesterday, so the 'odds' are it won't happen today; so I slack off. 

If I flip a coin 50 times, and come up with 'heads' 80% of the time, what are the odds that the 51st flip will be heads?  If you say 80%, you should take a statistics course.  It's 50%.  It's always 50%.  A hundred flips, and number 101 is still 50%.  The reason is that a coin only has two sides, and they are equally weighted (or nearly).  In such cases all the statistics do is record the actual history of what happened.  In cases of a coin they do not predict the outcome of the next flip.  But we don't think that way.  We live, think, and behave as if it's a predictor of the next flip.  And so it goes with life lived with God.  He says it's a static potential, but we live as it the prior 'statistics' predict today.

I will continue to love (or worship) only to the degree I recognize the static potential of my continuing in this world.  I asked in the last entry, "What would I do if I was convinced that God had my back?"  Well, here's another question, "What would I do if I was convinced that I would end the day in the physical presence of God?"  The answer to that question should rule my day as co-regent with the first question. 

So here's the point for me: I need to love like I'm going home every day.  Only love will remain.  My other gifts will be gone.  My faith and hope will stand fulfilled.  But the practice of love will continue throughout eternity with me.  Perhaps the eternal quality of love is the reason that love so characterizes my Master.  Or perhaps love is eternal because love so characterizes my Master.  Either way, an investment in love every day is an investment in the eternal.  I like the ROI for that one.

Engage!

And when they had come to him, he said to them, "You yourselves know, from the first day that I set foot in Asia, how I was with you the whole time, serving the Lord with all humility and with tears and with trials which came upon me through the plots of the Jews; how I did not shrink from declaring to you anything that was profitable, and teaching you publicly and from house to house, solemnly testifying to both Jews and Greeks of repentance toward God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. (Acts 20:18-21 NASB)

I don't know if you have ever met anyone like Paul, but I think I finally have.  I don't know why, but I can become emotionally detached from things that seem to emotionally overwhelm some.  I just returned from Mexico where we saw poverty that was pretty amazing, but up close and personal.  It was, in a sense, in my face.  But it didn't make me weep.  It still wasn't my poverty, it was the poverty of someone else.  I didn't speak the language, so I didn't get to know people, and hear their stories, so I never really "engaged" in the setting.  But here is where I met the person I think has much in common with Paul.

Paul relates that he served the Lord "with all humility and with tears", and that sounds so odd for Paul.  He seems so strong and bold, that tears seem at odds with his character.  Yet he claims that these elders from Ephesus saw this in him.  They saw him declare the whole good news of Jesus, do so house to house, and to both Jews and Greeks.  I have met someone who does this in a very real sense in Mexico.  She doesn't live in Mexico, instead she travels across the border constantly.  She shares the good news of Jesus in impoverished places, to people who have very little except need.

Because work is scarce, food is needed.  Because food is needed, nutrition is poor.  Because work and money are scarce, hopelessness is rampant, skepticism is common, and abuse of self and others is also common.  I saw one "Catholic" Church, and I say that only because it was the largest "church-like" building and compound in the area, so I'm assuming it was a Catholic Church.  I never saw a sign as such.  There are heard that there are other churches in the area, but not enough.  The poverty means that any support for a pastor must come from outside the community.  It's difficult to get a church to remain for long.  The one we visited and at which we worked had been there for at least three years.

The lady who was responsible for getting it started did so through a Bible study for women.  She had started close to the border, in Tecate, but heard that many were coming from a village 20 miles south, so she moved it there.  Then she heard that many women were walking from an even smaller village 3 miles beyond that, so she moved it there.  In each place she left, she left a new church which still operates.  In this place where she works now, this church has been there for three years, and is adding a third building.  So she has been working through hard times to bring the good news of the love of Jesus to people without hope.

As we left, she prayed for us.  As she prayed, she broke down in tears of thankfulness to Jesus for His work through us.  What was so evident was her love for Jesus, even more than her love for the people in Mexico.  It was her love for Jesus which drove her to share Him with those she served across the border.  Sure, she worked until she is now nearly exhausted, but what I noticed was that it was her love for her Master that drove her to do so.  She had come from that poverty in which she served, and others who have that background leave it far behind.  Her Master would not permit her to do so.

It may seem like a semantic difference, but it is an important one.  In her prayer, less was said about the people we served, than was said about the Master we served.  In this way, people who know little beyond the poverty in which they live gain a perspective of heaven.  So these living so differently from us lived with hope and joy I don't.  Focus on them would not transmit the hope and joy, only focus on the Master.  It was clear, it was amazing, it was powerful, and it showed me the error of my focus.  I couldn't see it without the contrast.

So I couldn't really engage emotionally with the setting, but I think I caught the perspective of the people.  I think I understand better the focus off of the stuff of this world, and on my Master.  I think I get that more now than I have, and I think it scares me more now than it has.  It's not a terror, but a sense of unease.  What I want is for that unease to change from hindering my change in focus and into driving me into that change in focus.  I want to be afraid not to focus on my Master.  That may sound obvious or an assumption, but I realize I am moving that way, and am not there yet.  I have met a person who is so far down the path of such focus as to be almost unrecognizable to me.  I see that I, like Paul, like her, can and should focus solely on my Master.

When Hope Is Found

And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance;  and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us. (Romans 5:3-5 NASB)

Hopelessness is the condition of a person when they have run out of favorable alternatives.  It is supposed to be a condition unique to those who do not know Jesus.  For inexplicable reasons, it seems to afflict followers of Jesus as well.

Sometimes I imagine the Holy Spirit within me shouting at the top of His whisper, "It will be okay, just be patient and wait on Me!"  And I'm not listening.  I'm hearing the noise from my bank and bills, from the news and alarmists, and from my own wants and fears.  The shouting drowns out the whisper of the Comforter, my Master's Spirit.

Ironically, the noise I hear isn't necessarily a lie, or wrong in whatever assessment, it's wrong in its interpretation.  It's not the facts that are wrong, it's the conclusions drawn.  The conclusions drawn are typically doom.  And for things of this world and life, that could be right.  And fighting such darkness is really hard when it's all I see and hear.  And that's how I arrive at hopelessness.

But when I hear the whisper of the Spirit of my Master, things within me change.  The darkness becomes gloom, and I can faintly make out the workers of evil from spiritual realms.  I see that I, and so many others are deceived into hopelessness.  It is hard to fight against darkness, until I hear and embrace the words of my Master.  Then it's not me against the world, it's me and my Master.  At that point, I win, no contest.

But so often, in the process of losing the voice of my Master's Spirit, I also lose sight of the end of the journey.  This place I live in truly is destined for fire.  A new one is coming, and I am destined for that one.  So when I face the things here as if they are sooo important, so vital to my life, and so overwhelming, I am looking at the wrong world.

I'm not here to make here better.  That ends up being a byproduct of me doing what I am here for.  I'm here to help others find the new world coming.  That only happens when my Master calls them, and they respond to Him.  So, I try to distract them from this world long enough for them to hear my Master's call.  This is impossible if I'm distracted by them and what they're doing.

The problem for me is that this sense of my life is hard to sustain.  I like comfort here.  But look at how Paul puts it: "...tribulations bring about perseverance, perseverance proven character, and proven character hope..."  The path to hope starts with tribulations and perseverance, i.e. "character-building".  That's not the "fun" way. I don't like that way.  But I'm not useful to my Master in rescuing souls without it.

So, this is not all there is, and I am to live the truth of that.  I know better, and I know where I'm headed.  I know the light shining from transparent streets of gold comes from the face of my Master.  That's the "church" I'm headed for.  One day, my Master will drink again of the fruit of the vine anew with me in His Kingdom.  That's where I'm headed.  Does that shake anyone else enough to hear the whisper of my Master's Spirit?  Follow it!

Ready To Be Healed?

Now Peter and John were going up to the temple at the ninth hour, the hour of prayer.  And a man who had been lame from his mother's womb was being carried along, whom they used to set down every day at the gate of the temple which is called Beautiful, in order to beg alms of those who were entering the temple.  When he saw Peter and John about to go into the temple, he began asking to receive alms.   But Peter, along with John, fixed his gaze on him and said, "Look at us!"   And he began to give them his attention, expecting to receive something from them.   But Peter said, "I do not possess silver and gold, but what I do have I give to you: In the name of Jesus Christ the Nazarene -- walk!"   And seizing him by the right hand, he raised him up; and immediately his feet and his ankles were strengthened.   With a leap he stood upright and began to walk; and he entered the temple with them, walking and leaping and praising God. (Acts 3:1-9 NASB)

It's been a while since my last post.  Vacation and the length of time it takes me to push through passages in the Christian Scriptures have limited my free time unfortunately.  But that isn't all.  Sometimes I just haven't been intentional in making the time.  It's not impossible for me to make shorter entries as I work through a passage rather than only longer ones after I've completed it.

I wonder if I need to be more like the lame man in this account.  There are a few things about his response to Peter and what happens to him that make me wonder about him.  For instance, he gets up.  Peter takes him by the hand, not the whole body.  The man tries to stand.  This attempt to stand works, but I wonder if it's his first time trying.  Am I trying to "stand" in my spiritual life?  Have I given up?  Is "Peter" just on his way, it's the hour of prayer, and I'm in my routine, will I be ready to stand?

The other thing I note is his response.  Sure he leaps up when Peter pulls his hand and his ankles and feet become strong, but he keeps leaping as he walks, praising God.  So, when my Master reaches into my life and changes the thing I clearly can't, do I just then saunter off happy to be free of the "burden" or whatever?  Where's the celebration?  Where's the self-degrading celebration of praise to my Master?  Or do I just not want to make a stir with my problem, and then not make a scene with my cure?  So, God works in my life and I just keep the event to myself?  Is that the purpose of my Master?

As I imagine this lame-from-birth beggar, something in this guy's life never came to terms with his lame feet.  He was never able to accept it.  But unlike so many who claim that attitude, I don't believe he stopped trying to fight it.  He stood when Peter took his hand.  He had been lame from birth, why would he know to do that?  I suspect he'd been trying.  Something in himself would not accept himself in that condition.  So, when the day of his healing came, he was ready; his expectant hope was fulfilled.

I suppose if every lame beggar in Jerusalem were healed, then I could use this as a formula for healing and restoration, but they weren't.  This was the Spirit of God in the life of this particular lame beggar.  He was born this way so when this day came, his Maker would be glorified.  So, while I can't form a "theology of healing" from this, what I can do is form a model of faith.  The expectant hope of this man was fulfilled.  Faith is built on such hope (Hebrews 11:1).

So, what's the faith model?  The man tried when pulled.  I know that much.  I may not know what attempts he made before that moment, but I do know he tried when pulled.  He was ready enough to leave his condition that he took the offered hand and used useless legs to rise.  I can only surmise what sort of condition he was in, or what practices he had practiced leading up to this time.  So, they're not the formula, the formula, the lesson, is in the inspired piece, the fact he stood when pulled.

The application from the lesson is that when my Master pulls me, I take hold that for which I have been taken hold of, and press on (Philippians 3:12-14).  This was a temporal healing at a point in a man's life, but he was celebrating praising God.  It was also a movement toward the heavenward call.  When my Master pulls me, isn't He pulling me heavenward?  Shouldn't I also leap and praise Him?  He's pulling me, who am I to be pulled by the One forming stars?  Why should I not stand?  Why would I not be willing to rise?  Legs, or heart, or mind, or hands, what of mine have I given up on?  That is not acceptable, not when I have this clear example that I am being called heavenward by my Master.  There is no excuse for giving up, it's never too hard, I am to rise when pulled, and leap and praise once raised.  Pardon me while I stretch some creaky joints; it's not the age, it the lack of use...shame on me.

The Long View...Again

"Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me.  In My Father's house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you.  If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also.  And you know the way where I am going."

Thomas said to Him, "Lord, we do not know where You are going, how do we know the way?" 

Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through Me.  If you had known Me, you would have known My Father also; from now on you know Him, and have seen Him."
(John 14:1-7 NASB)

Jesus is encouraging His disciples after a long tough week.  But even now, they don't really get it.  Jesus isn't surprised, but He needs to "front-load" them to lead His people after He ascends back to His Father.  So, to encourage them, He points them to where He is going, telling them they will one day be there too.

That is the key for me.  Knowing Jesus is the "way, truth, and life" only makes sense with heaven in view.  In fact my life only makes sense with heaven in view.  One day I will be present before the great alabaster throne of Yahweh beholding the uninhibited glory of my Master.  What can possibly compare with that?

My lovely wife is away on a business trip, and I'm lonely.  The house is quiet, and will be most of the day (until the dogs bark anyway).  Yet, I'm not purposeless, I'm headed somewhere.  I may not like this day and what's in it, but I'm not home yet either.  One day I will live in a house with many dwelling places (and therefore lots of very close neighbors).  One day my Master will come back to take me along with Him so that I might be where He is.  One day makes today endurable, but also full of joy and hope.

When I encounter people unacquainted with Jesus, they are supposed to be bewildered by my hope.  I wonder how often that happens.  Do they notice my hope?  Does joy characterize my life in general, and with others specifically (including my family)?  Essentially, do people wonder about me in a way that does not necessarily draw attention to me, but what's going on with me?  Like a vagrant or transient, do they wonder what happened to me without really wanting to get involved and know my name? 

I'd have to say no at this point.  I need this long view more in my life.  I have tried to gain it through astronomy, and that does provide a glimpse of the amazing wonders millions of years old by the time I see them.  But it's not quite like focusing on the path to heaven.  I believe in heaven, and I have faith in heaven.  Yet, while faith enables me to get there, it's love that enables me to bring friends.  Do others see hope and joy in me and wonder about it?  Do I love them?  Or is my day and week about me?  Heaven help me!

From Saturday to Sunday

I believe that the connection between the cross and the empty tomb is sometimes lost.  The power of my Master is not demonstrated on the cross as much as His determination to save His human creatures.  He showed the extent of His love and mercy there, but He showed His power through the empty tomb. 

On the other hand, the empty tomb is not really appreciated until the extent of my Master’s love is explored over and over as demonstrated on the cross.  So, I need both, and I need to appreciate them in order.  I need a focus and meditation on the Cross of Jesus so I can better appreciate the empty tomb.  Yesterday I was crushed by my meditation on the Cross of my Master.  Today I want to pause at the empty tomb.

The shock experienced by creation was then followed by such deep oppressive despair that it seemed there was no recovery.  Hope died with the Master on the cross.  Sure, all the sins of all of humanity were paid in that event, but now there was this gaping wound that is always left by death.  Death is relational, just like life is relational.  The Spirit could have come then and there would have been a revival of sorts, but there would have been this sense of a hollow victory.  Death would still have reigned supreme, even over the Creator.  And there was something about that which would not settle in the hearts of the disciples, and not in creation.

The debate over three days is odd to me.  Any part of a day includes that day.  We do that now.  We don’t measure it down to complete sets of 24 hours until we want to disprove something.  In normal usage, we just go with any part of a day.  So, Friday evening, and through Saturday, a doubly intense Sabbath, there was silence.  I imagine the silence to be dark silence, not bright silence.  I imagine an oppressive air where no one, not even Jesus’ enemies, felt light.  I suspect that there would have been such an air of hopelessness that it would have been as all life had stopped, as if in a moment of silent grief.  A day where silence permeates to the bones, and into the soul, chill and dark; that’s how I imagine that Sabbath day.

Part of this oppressive sense of hopelessness comes from the Creator Himself.  The unthinkable has happened; God has suffered the loss of The Son!  The Creator has lost the Uncreated One.  The Three are somehow Two.  The fundamental truth of the Source of the universe and all that holds it together has fractured and a piece is missing.  It is impossible.  It cannot happen.  It can’t!  How?  The crushing question is why, but now in the aftermath, even that answer seems lost in the echo of the darkness left behind.  Is this love?  Is this mercy?  The hole left in my heart from losing my father is nothing compared to the loss incurred by the Creator and His creation at the loss of the Son.  This Saturday is one of grief from the One and Only God right down to the infinitesimally small sub-atomic particle.  It is grief on a cosmic scale.  It crushes the world and the cosmos.

And then the unthinkable, unimaginable, shattering power of the Creator of the universe and all it contains totally annihilates the enemy that is death itself.  Light overwhelms the darkness, and shatters the grief spreading shards to the uttermost ends of creation.  Each shard carries the sound of the truth: HE IS RISEN!  Life sweeps out from that central point on the spinning blue globe and life stirs once again.  Creation takes a deep breath, not realizing it has been holding its breath, gasping for the life of the Son.  Joy so radiant in the darkness of grief that few dared hope it was true swept through the lives of 200 gathered together, and the ripples of that joy continued into Samaria, Judea, and all the ends of the earth.

Life, real life, returned from the grave of despair.  And this is the eternal life that they might know You the One True God and Whom You sent Jesus Christ.  I can know my Master now, I can speak with Him, listen to Him, seek His face, and worship Him.  But one day I will run with Him in the fields of Heaven!  I will worship before His throne!  I will see Him face to face, serve Him in His presence, and I will be who He truly made me to be.  He will give me a new name, and I will know His.  Then I will run and not be weary, walk and not faint.  I will fly, but only for the joy of my Master.  And all the joy of life will make up the air I breathe and the ground beneath my feet.  And I am not alone in this, but one of an unnumbered crowd all together in worship and joy; the voice of which will shake remaining debris of this life off like dust.  We will stand completely clean and whole before the Conqueror of death, Giver of eternal life.  And we will do so forever.

That is what the empty grave means to me.

Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, November 26

The Love In My Life

Yesterday, my wife and I performed a wedding ceremony together.  It was our first time ever doing one together.  It was my first one in over 10 years.  In the ceremony, the description of love in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a is used, which is very common.  Today, the entry from Chambers uses this same passage.  He could have focused on many different facets of this passage, but he focused on a characteristic of this love, not found here, but rather alluded to in Galatians 5:22.

Spontaneity as a quality of love is what my wife has always wanted me to have with her (all you husbands out there know what I mean).  But in the sense Chambers uses the term, he means it’s not something achieved by determined effort, but rather noticeable as I look back.  Then I see that I was loving, kind, not boastful, not proud, enduring all sorts of things, and so on.  By looking back over the path down which I’ve been led, I see where I have become more like my Master.  I wish I would see more of those places, but I see more now than I have for many years.

Love, as Paul describes it in the letter to the Corinthians, is the greatest gift of the Spirit of my Master.  Paul is quick to point out how much superior it is to tongues, prophecy, and knowledge specifically.  He points out how love is not arrogant or self-inflated, which was the result of the afore mentioned gifts in the Corinthian Church.  Paul is trying very diligently to help the church in Corinth see the answer to their problems is a deeper devotion and submission to Jesus, and less of a self-focus.  In that city, everyone seeks to climb higher, faster, with more money and affluence, and they all want the attention of everyone else (sort of like Hollywood today). 

This answer to problems, my problems is true for me today.  When I submit my moments to Jesus, I will be surprised when I look back, to see where His qualities have shown through my own.  When I focus on my Master instead of myself, I will experience something that I will be unable to notice in the present, but only as I look back over into the past to this time, just as Chambers said.  I have experienced that.  I do today.  Today, though I also see where my cynical response to traffic in the car with my daughter yesterday was reflected back to me this morning.  It is a poignant reminder of the frailty of my character, and the importance of further devotion to my Master.  It’s not just my life being affected, but that of my daughter.  I am teaching her improper responses to whatever does not go her way in her timing.  I need to show her differently.

So, faith, hope, and love remain, these three, but the greatest of these is love.  As I have said in a couple of sermons, faith will get me into heaven, but love enables me to bring friends.  Hope forms the foundation of faith, faith creates the safe space to love, and love is the evidence of my Master’s work in me.  I guess I have some devoting and focusing to do.  I hope I will look back over today, and see the marks of my Master’s love.  I believe He will make it so.

http://www.myutmost.org/04/0430.html

Where will I not go, what will I not do?

In the less familiar part of Philippians 2, Paul encourages the believers in Philippi to behave well among each other, so they will have nothing to be ashamed of before the seat of Jesus, nor will he.  And then he says that, even if he is being offered as a drink offering for their faith, he's OK with that.  I'm not so sure I would be OK with that.

Church people are the reason I never went back into ministry the first place. Being "poured out as an offering for their faith" implies that all the work I do for them and with them being of no effect on their lives. That's what happened to me the first time. 

In my first ministry experience after seminary, it got to the point that they focused so much on what they didn't like about me, they could no longer focus on God, hear His Spirit, or even understand the basics of the gospel.  One man even claimed that Jesus had told him to gossip and incite others against me.  If they could agree on what they didn't like, or were in agreement about details or particulars, that would indicate some area of ministry or my walk with God in which I had fallen down.

I realize that I contributed a lot to what happened there.  If Satan can so overcome a body of believers in Christ that they walk the line of the unpardonable sin in photo-negative, what the heck was the shepherd doing anyway?  Yes, I admit I was asleep at the wheel.  Had I been more open to immersing myself in the lives of the people for whom I was responsible, I would have seen Satan's fingerprints sooner, known to pray directly and specifically, and at least faced the spiritual warfare head-on.  I probably would have lost anyway, because the beachhead had already been firmly established before I got there.  But I would prefer a straight on fight to being steamrollered from behind.

So, am I willing to be offered up as a drink offering for the faith of others?  I am not the same person I was, God has done a lot of work in me these 11 years, and I believe that in some ways I am more spiritually mature than then.  But I am also more cynical, sarcastic, and skeptical.  I have fewer illusions of other believers because I simply jettisoned any expectations that they be like Christ.  How's that for a lovely pastoral attitude?

But one thing I have still is hope.  Hope is the ground that God plows to grow faith.  Faith is the raw material God uses to build love in the hearts of His people.  Having hope still is due to God's continued work in my life.  I know change is possible.  My faith in His work in the lives of others enables me to pass on that hope to others.  When someone can hope for change, believes that God can bring it about and wants to, and then commits the future to Him, change happens.  The change is the change God chooses, not the change we imagined, but change still.  That's what has and is happening to me.