When It's The People In Church...

But I will come to you after I go through Macedonia, for I am going through Macedonia; and perhaps I will stay with you, or even spend the winter, so that you may send me on my way wherever I may go.  For I do not wish to see you now just in passing; for I hope to remain with you for some time, if the Lord permits.  But I will remain in Ephesus until Pentecost; for a wide door for effective service has opened to me, and there are many adversaries. (1 Corinthians 16:5-9 NASB)

 One of the most frustrating elements of ministry is the people who make up the church.  It's a common joke among ministers that ministry would be great if it weren't for the people.  Paul's strained relationship with the people in the church in Corinth is not hard to spot all throughout the letter.  He clearly has issues with the way they have dealt with him, how they have treated his teaching, and so on.  He is not nearly as impressed with them as they are with themselves.

Yet with all that included, Paul still looks forward to being with them.  It sounds strange, but then, read carefully, especially the last part of the paragraph above.  He's staying in Ephesus "for a wide door for effective service has opened to me", which you would expect to encourage him to continue to serve there.  But then he adds this little nugget, "and there are many adversaries."  One of the reasons he is staying in Ephesus through Pentecost (early summer) is because there are many adversaries.

I have said before and I will say again, Paul is the most frustrating ministry example in Scripture for me.  He says and seems to do things that I just can't bring myself to match.  He sets the bar so high that I truly can't imagine hitting it, let alone going over it.  Here again, the bar is raised.  Who chooses to minister because it's hard?  Who does that?  Who looks at the frustrating people ministered to, ministered with, ministered among, and goes, "Wow, this is hard.  These people are whacked!  Let's keep going!"

This isn't an adrenaline junky in for the quick success in the face of massive odds.  This isn't the tough wrangler in for the immediate struggle against evil.  It's not the kind meek person just rolling with the 'waves' of life.  This is the guy who simply outlasts his opponents regardless of how many there are or how long it takes.  Paul is the Olympic Marathon runner of tough difficult ridiculous ministry.  Wherever, with whomever, for whomever, for however long it takes, he's going to minister.  He makes US Marines tired.  He makes Navy Seals seem like slackers.  He makes me really frustrated!

Paul wants to go to Corinth.  He wants to be among these people who slander him, disrespect him, denounce his teaching in favor of pagan philosophy, who quarrel among themselves, treat each other with contempt, treat God with contempt, have contempt for the sacrifice of Jesus as they celebrate His last meal, and basically run around as if they have 'arrived' spiritually.  I wouldn't want to be in the same city, forget being within their number.  I wouldn't even know where to start with such people.  He wants to dive right in, stay a while, share their lives, be a part of their worship and celebration.  Seriously?

Okay, it's already obvious to you, so I'll confess.  I'm ashamed that I don't have Paul's attitude toward service in the church.  In a sense I'm jealous, in a sense I'm convicted, my shortcomings are exposed, my wrong attitude made obvious in comparison to his perfect one.  And just as obvious, I don't feel like repenting of my position in favor of his.  If I did, my tone would be different, but I don't, so it isn't.  I don't want to wade into conflict, stupid arguments, foolish people, and pointless practices.  I don't.  I don't!  But who am I trying to convince?

This isn't about me, it's about my Master, His calling on my life, and only then about my obedience.  And it's not about obedience because He somehow needs me for some reason.  It's only about my obedience so that I am more available to Him, enter into a deeper dependence upon Him, and find that I am only sufficient in Him, His power, and His wisdom.  This is about the Teacher coming alongside me to help me learn that I need Him, and He is faithful.  It's about deepening faith, strengthening dependence upon my Master, and creating an environment where the lost are drawn to the throne of the King.

Oh, and by the way, I'm not in vocational ministry.  So, for the record, this is about what I do as a volunteer among such frustrating circumstances and people.  And also on that record should be the roll call of those who have been amazing blessings to me, for instance the people of my small group.  I have seen growth, I have seen faith, I have witnessed compassion for each other, and I have been a part of service with them to each other, them to me and us to others.  If you are exempting yourself from this perspective, this call to minister in the ridiculous, then you are way off.  Unfortunately for all of us, the example of Paul is for everyone, not just vocational ministers.  See, now you are frustrated with him too, aren't you?

The challenge for me is to wade into the fray of my Master's human creatures, and lovingly come alongside them as my Master has come alongside me.  It's messy, it's painful, it's time consuming, and it's sometimes fruitless.  But it is a call to follow my Master.  He didn't touch or heal everyone in Palestine or even Jerusalem.  He didn't just hang around those with whom He was popular, or help just those He liked or liked Him.  He didn't just...Instead He went where He did, met whomever was there or along the way, and did what He knew needed to be done.  He was obedient to His Father. 

And He left a trail for me to follow.  That's the challenge.  I don't like 'Pharisees' and they don't like me.  But it seems I should have a meal with them; and I shouldn't serve ham just to irk them either.  I'm not a big fan of fickle religious 'fan's' (followers of whoever or whatever is popular at the moment).  But it seems I should walk with them; and not entertain myself with kicking the frail props of their theological positions.  I'm not comfortable with those who seem to have a small god and wimpy Jesus.  But it seems that the true Son of the Creator all matter wants me to invite them over to look through my telescope at the universe, and not so I can shame them with my much bigger stronger version of God either.  Where's the fun in all that?  Well, so long 'comfort zone', good bye cynicism, ciao sarcasm, my old friends, it's been fun...

Love or Nothing

If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.  If I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.  And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body to be burned, but do not have love, it profits me nothing. (1 Corinthians 13:1-3 NASB)

I do a lot of stuff at my church.  Others do more, many do what I do better, but I still do a lot of stuff.   Probably, the response of my Master is like, 'Yay, but do you love others?'  He's probably not that impressed, and not because others do more and many do it better.  He's probably not impressed because One making stars doesn't look at the work of lessor beings and go, 'Impressive!'  It just doesn't happen that's all.

What my Master has done that He is most proud of is love His created people.  He showed this through Jesus paying the price for the sins of the entire world.  So, what impresses Him isn't what I can do for Him, but that I love because of Him.  When that happens, it means His human creatures are 'getting it'; they are learning the lesson of Jesus and truly following Him.  In a sense, it means all the suffering on the part of the Creator of the universe was worth it, it had an effect.

But that's not how I have measured my life before.  Before it was always by what I can do/have done for God.  I'm in this role, I've done that role, I believe that, teach this, said whatever, oh, and these people like me.  As it turns out, my Master doesn't really care about that. 

My wife took a trip to talk to her dad about Jesus and lay it out there.  His health is failing, and we're not sure how long she'd be able to still do that and have him have any understanding of it.  He was very receptive, and his wife said she had already "accepted God in her heart".  He didn't accept right there, but she knew he would be thinking about it.  As she told me about it afterwards, I thought, "God doesn't give a 'theology exam' before accepting people."  This word wasn't precisely perfect, that word was a little off, but the core idea was there.

I don't know for sure but I'm confident anyway, that my degree in Bible and ministry hasn't 'saved' anyone.  To my knowledge, no body has said, 'Wow, that guy really knows a lot about God, I want to live like he does.'  At least, no one has told me that's what it was that caused them to seek God.  Not that I've wasted 10 years of my life chasing a useless vocational degree.  I'm just saying that it's not the 'qualifier' or 'edge' in my relationship with Jesus. 

At the gates of Heaven, Jesus won't be checking 'pedigree' or certifications or other initials past my name as I enter His heaven.  The single question will be was my name written in the Lamb's Book of Life.  He won't ask me, He'll just look down his list of names.  Either I'm in there or I'm not.  I find it ironic that there will be this judgement of the works of people, but then all of it, and all those judged are thrown into the lake of fire with the devil and his minions (Revelation 20:11-15).  So it's never been what I do, but that I love, first Jesus, and because of what He's done for me, everyone else.

So, the lesson of these introductory verses is that nothing else accomplishes for me what love does.  It's the first lesson.  And I will see from tomorrow's entry that I suck at it.  Lovely.  I'm busy, but I'm wasting my time without love.  I'm active, but a hamster-on-a-wheel without love.  I'm whatever, but not before the throne of my Master, Who only wants to know that I love.  Hmmm...

To Be Paid or Not To Be Paid

Do you not know that those who perform sacred services eat the food of the temple, and those who attend regularly to the altar have their share from the altar?  So also the Lord directed those who proclaim the gospel to get their living from the gospel.  But I have used none of these things. And I am not writing these things so that it will be done so in my case; for it would be better for me to die than have any man make my boast an empty one. (1 Corinthians 9:13-15 NASB)

 Chapter 9 of 1 Corinthians seems to be a parenthetical deviation from Paul's argument about eating food sacrificed to idols.  It's not.  It's actually a long, involved example of not exercising our rights as believers for the benefit of others.  And yet, he also takes this opportunity to 'correct' a view the church had about him, which invalidated his apostleship.

Both the basis of his example and the discrediting view of the church stemmed from Paul's service to the church there without asking for payment from the church.  In other words, Paul worked for his own wages (making/mending tents) instead of seeking support from the church.  For those in Corinth, this practice deviated from the typical itinerant philosopher/speaker types they found passing through Corinth.  It was also different from other traveling missionaries, even Peter and James.  So, for the church in Corinth, this also meant Paul wasn't all that.

As a true parenthetical comment, it seems from Acts 18:2-5 that Paul actually worked until funds from other churches came in.  When Timothy and Silas came from the churches they had just started, Paul didn't need to work, but started 'devoting himself completely to the word.' So, yes, he didn't accept payment from the church in Corinth, but he was supplied from other churches where he had worked previously.  This detail becomes important in how this chapter in 1 Corinthians get's misapplied today.

I attended a church in Arizona where one of the elders got his short in a knot with the pastor over whether pastors should be paid or not.  It was a vain, arrogant, godless, unscriptural, and thinly veiled attempt to preempt the authority of the pastor by a self-absorbed pompous lawyer-type.  He attempted to point out that pastors were, as an office, unnecessary; that the board of elders could provide the same work but for free.  It was when he tried to demonstrate this as scriptural, failed, set aside Scripture and the authority of Jesus, and the board acquiesced that I hit the roof.  I unsheathed my literary sword, sharpened the blade with all my education, and lined the edge with the venom of my resentment toward my previous church.  It was ugly, and I'm not proud of what I wrote the board, but the key line in it went something like this: "Church history past and present has taught us that where you are headed leads to little paper cups filled with cyanide and juice."  Anyway, they didn't like it.  I eventually apologized for the tone (not the content).

The reason I get so focused on this is that, in the church tradition from which I come, it seems that paying pastors always becomes the hardest thing for a church to justify.  It's as if they just can't bring themselves to pay someone to 'sit around' thinking up what to say from week-to-week; because, of course, that's all pastor's do...  The iceberg of ministry is the utter frustration of ministers.  People in churches only seem to validate that small piece they see.  It's one big reason many ministers leave the ministry, or as in my case, don't go back into it.

This isn't always the case, and many ministers make a very good living from ministry.  I never did, but I didn't stick with it all that long either.  So, this isn't a universal problem, but in smaller churches, it can be very deep and hurtful one.  This chapter in 1 Corinthians does serve to demonstrate that Paul's focus was  not his own benefit, but that of others.  But it does not demonstrate the 'value' or theological or biblical position for not paying ministers.  In fact, to support his point, Paul proves the reverse.  He has to, or his whole point in this part of the letter is completely invalidated.  If he has no right to receive payment for his services, then what 'bragging rights' does he have for not?  Look at verse 15.  He would rather die than have any man make his boast an empty one.  There's not much to boast about if he's not supposed to be receiving it in the first place.

Perhaps churches look at this passage, and then at their pastors, and ask, "why can't you be like him?" Perhaps they think that their pastors wouldn't become all things to all people so that by all means they may win some.  But haven't these ministers, by not using the obvious skills needed to minister in church setting to make much more money in a commercial setting, done the same thing?  Haven't they set aside a much easier life where they are more approved, more affirmed, and more highly paid?  Haven't they, instead, taken on a role with more stress, more misunderstanding, less control, and less money so that they might participate in the Kingdom take-over of a community and a people?  Is that diminished because they also want to be able to take care of the financial responsibilities of their families?  Really?

Yeah, this is a sore point for me.  I'm, perhaps excessively, protective of ministers.  And yes, it does stem from my own pain in previous ministry experience.  That doesn't make my perspective wrong.  What I learn from this chapter is that I have a responsibility not to 'muzzle the ox while it's threshing' (perhaps that I can call my pastor an ox?), and that I have a responsibility to help others in my church to understand this biblical principle as well.  It glorifies my Master.  And that needs to be my motivation, since that is the motivation of Paul in writing this in the first place.

Church Response to Internal Sin

You have become arrogant and have not mourned instead, so that the one who had done this deed would be removed from your midst. (1 Corinthians 5:2 NASB)

Chapter 5 of 1 Corinthians is about 'church discipline' in a way.  It is about the application of Jesus' principles in Matthew 18 in a specific situation.  It is probably good to note that Matthew wrote his Gospel after this letter had been written, but still the principle was within the church and its teaching in the oral accounts of the Twelve.  But truly, the idea/concept of this is actually derived from the Hebrew Scriptures.

What Paul pulls his application from is the various passages from the Hebrew Scriptures about removing the practice of sin from Israel.  There are plenty to choose from, but he seems drawn to the Law, specifically Deuteronomy.  In so doing, he raises an interesting question about the practice of church discipline.

In Matthew 18, the process Jesus describes is restorative trying to bring about confession and repentance.  Here it sounds more final, but that may be because Paul is correcting a dangerous perception and practice.  It seems that in the fledgling church in ancient Corinth that they were proud that they would tolerate such behavior.  For Paul this is unthinkable, for them it is something to boast about.

It may be that this letter, with all its biting sarcasm so far, is really leading up to this discussion.  Paul seemed worked up before, but he is truly hot here.  But what is his real point?  Why is he so worked up?

I believe the key to understanding Paul's attitude in this chapter stems from his statement in verse 2, 'you are arrogant and have not mourned instead.'  The response to sin in the church (and within ourselves as well) should be mourning.  This is the word Jesus used in the Beatitudes where He said 'Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted' (Matthew 5:4).  This should be the attitude toward sin.  And I believe this is the mark in a person repenting as well.

So my response to sin within me and that I see in our church should begin with mourning.  Then movement to change, but the change will stem from the right attitude.  I can't come with an attitude of superiority or pride or arrogance.  Even any anger I feel should come out of my grief over this sin.

When I 'wink' at my own practice of sin, then I am being so selfish that I refuse to see the effects it has on my relationship with my Master, my wife, my daughter, and my church.  I fail to accept that it robs me of courage to bring my faith to my neighbors.  I refuse to see that it has become a weapon of my enemy which I have forged, sharpened, and handed to him.

When I 'wink' at the practice of sin within my church, then I am refusing to protect the 'Bride of Christ'.  The practice of sin in the church incapacitates ministry.  Everything stops.  Some may mourn the loss of 'fire', others the 'way we used to be', some may be sad about how the Spirit doesn't seem to move any more.  That's a good place to start, but this sadness needs to become pervasive if change is to come about.

The practice of sin is difficult to keep secret.  Once known it must be dealt with.  The idea is to keep a single mistake from becoming a practice, both within ourselves and within our congregation.  The process described in Matthew 18:15-17 is really four-part:  1) go to the one and bring it up; failing repentance 2) bring another to verify the validity of repentance; if that fails to bring repentance 3) bring it before the church, and if that fails to bring repentance 4) 'let him be as a Gentile and a tax collector'.

Paul 'illuminates' what is meant by 'let him be as a Gentile and tax collector' when he calls on the church to 'remove the wicked man from among yourselves.'  Such a person is cut off from participation in the congregation, in much the same way that the Hebrews were to expel certain people from the Temple or Tabernacle; they were cut off from the 'assembly'.

Churches are hesitant to follow this practice.  Whatever reason they cite, the effects are the same.  It shouldn't be done, it can't be done and the church survive.  And neither can I accept such practices in myself.  I can't.  If I do, then I'm shot; my availability to my Master, my effectiveness in His Kingdom, and my role as knight and servant are nullified.  And I can be sure that He knows, there are no secrets with Him.

In order to keep even mistakes from becoming practices I must confess.  There's really no other way.  I have an accountability partner, and he and I work to keep each other 'current'.  Just as in the church we have to work together to keep the church sin-free, so I also need another to help keep me sin-free.  It's the way my Master designed it to work.  Confession is good for my soul; and healthy for my church.

Who Gives Up Their Hero?

Now David knew that Saul was plotting evil against him; so he said to Abiathar the priest, "Bring the ephod here."  Then David said, "O LORD God of Israel, Your servant has heard for certain that Saul is seeking to come to Keilah to destroy the city on my account.  Will the men of Keilah surrender me into his hand? Will Saul come down just as Your servant has heard? O LORD God of Israel, I pray, tell Your servant." And the LORD said, "He will come down."  Then David said, "Will the men of Keilah surrender me and my men into the hand of Saul?" And the LORD said, "They will surrender you."  Then David and his men, about six hundred, arose and departed from Keilah, and they went wherever they could go. When it was told Saul that David had escaped from Keilah, he gave up the pursuit. (1 Samuel 23:9-13 NASB)

 In the account of Saul's pursuit of David, one of the elements I really never understood was the willingness of the people to surrender David to Saul.  This seemed almost infuriating, how could they?  How could they not notice the weak sanity of Saul?  How could they not notice the faith and strength of David?  How could they not see such stark differences between them and choose the obvious choice?

This is a perfect example of my difficulty.  The people of Keilah in Judah are being attacked by Philistines, and it's David who comes to rescue them.  When Saul hears of it, he's elated that David is now shut up in a city where he can be found.  When David inquires of God, God makes it clear that David will be handed over to Saul by the people of Keilah.  How is that even possible?  I looked it over from the Hebrew, and there's no other way to read it.  It's sad.  It's crazy, as crazy as Saul.

So, my assumption is that people should see how bad Saul is and throw their lot in with David.  To get to this point I had to read chapter 22, where Saul tells Doeg the Edomite to kill the priests of Nob, and who then proceeds to initiate the ban on the entire city, men, women, children, infants, and livestock.  Okay, so perhaps it's the smoldering ruin of Nob that gives people the sense of which side is safest, in their best interest, best for their families and livelihood.

And then there's the other element to this story that it was God sending David to Keilah in the first place.  God sends him there knowing the people would be faithless to David.  That just seems so weird.  Why would He do that?  It just seems sometimes in Scripture that God is being just as faithless as the people, doesn't it?  It just doesn't seem fair.  Think of David's men; they didn't want to go to Keilah out of fear, and now, it seems they were right.  How faithful would that make them toward David?  How easy is for him to lead them into battle now?  Well, actually, easier.

David has 400 men when he starts at Addullum in chapter 22, leaving Keilah he now has 600.  I don't know, it doesn't say where these additional 200 came from, but I wonder if it was men of Keilah.  Probably not anywhere near 200, but I bet some were.  I bet the faithfulness and devotion of David for the people of Judah was crystal clear to many.  His willingness to go where God sent regardless of cost, how he always seems to come out on top of difficult situations, that he never wavers in his devotion to God or to the people; it probably made a deep impression. 

These are the qualities with which I struggled in ministry.  When the people were faithless toward me, would I still fight for them?  When God seemed to be leading me into danger on behalf of these faithless people, would I remain obedient to Him?  The thing that led me out of vocational ministry was finally reaching a point where I became convinced that these people couldn't see past me to my Master.  They were so focused on me they couldn't hear anything else.  It was amazing. 

On the other hand, it could have been that I was focused on me; my problems, my pain, my frustration with them.  It could have been that I was not what distracted them, it was this world, their problems, their lack of faith, and their inability to be honest.  All these things probably stemmed from fear, but I didn't stay there long enough to know what lay beneath.

So was I right to remove myself from the equation? Was it the right thing to get out of the way so God could have His voice without my interference?  I don't know.  I suspect that I needed to go, that vocational ministry wasn't my thing, at least not there.  But I don't know.  I see here that the faithfulness of others to him didn't deter David.  I see that He was obedient even when it didn't make sense, and the odds were against him.  I see that David set his heart against the enemies of God and His people, not against those seeking David's life; which is probably the hardest lesson I see here.

And so I learn that I need to stop fighting the wrong battles.  I see that I need to start seeking the real enemy (which seems surreal if you think about it).  I'm beginning to understand that the righteousness of others is not to be my motivation for serving them, or even for continuing to serve them.  It's starting to dawn on me that my Master is less interested in my safety than my usefulness in His Kingdom; against His enemies as opposed to against His faithless people. 

But not all are faithless.  As I suspect some of the 200 came from Keilah, faithful ones who understood the difference between David and Saul; so I suspect I will see my Master work in the lives of others for transformation, just as He works in mine.  Even if their faith is weak, isn't mine?  I can change, but so can they.  My faith can grow, and so can theirs.  Perhaps I will lead others, others discontent with the status quo, the usual, the norm.  But then I should be leading them in the path of faithfulness of my pursuit of my Master, shouldn't I?  Well, time to whip out the machete and get to 'trail-busting'; leaving a swath for others to follow in pursuit of my Master's work.  Perhaps I should sharpen it first?

The Meaning of Tears

When the lad was gone, David rose from the south side and fell on his face to the ground, and bowed three times. And they kissed each other and wept together, but David wept the more.  Jonathan said to David, "Go in safety, inasmuch as we have sworn to each other in the name of the LORD, saying, 'The LORD will be between me and you, and between my descendants and your descendants forever.'" Then he rose and departed, while Jonathan went into the city. (1 Samuel 20:41-42 NASB)

The 'test' of Jonathan's father, Saul, did not turn out well.  Jonathan indicated it to David with a boy and arrows, and now they both know Saul is out to hunt down David and kill him.  Jonathan recognizes his position, his responsibilities, and what he needs to do.  It is never recorded that he ever goes out with Saul after David, in fact, he's not mentioned again until the final battle of Saul.  It is truly a sad parting.

The writer includes the detail that David wept more.  In the first part of the chapter, in the initial encounter and dialogue, it seems that David is actually upset with Jonathan.  Jonathan seems to be the one initiating a covenant, and even includes a comment that he not be killed, and that it include their offspring.  Because of that, I don't believe that David loves Jonathan more than Jonathan, but rather that Jonathan bears a greater weight at the moment.

Jonathan gave his stuff to the boy and sent him back into the city with it.  He knew he had to go back into the realm of his father.  He knew he had a life of responsibilities there that he could not ignore, and from which it would be wrong of him to leave.  I doubt he even thought it possible.  I suspect that, instead, Jonathan looked with a sort of dread upon his future and the future of his father's kingdom. 

With all the problems posed by a real enemy of Israel; the Philistines, Canaanites, even rogue Hebrews, the problem absorbing Saul was David; who was not a threat.  This does not bode well for Israel.  This is a misplaced focus, and it had to evident to all, but who would defy the 'emperor without clothes'?  The kingdom is about to descend into disarray and anarchy.  I suspect the weight of his vision of the 'train-wreck' coming weighed heavier on Jonathan than David's departure.

So, as I paint this circumstance (mostly in my mind rather than truly explained in Scripture - so mere conjecture) it seems to me that Jonathan is in a position where his faith enables him to see the problem (Saul obsessed with David to the detriment of the kingdom), but also that he is held in its path by his real responsibilities within the community.  In a sense, he sees his own doom.

I also note that this faith does override his 'responsibilities' on the military side as he never goes out with Saul after David.  He sees the inevitable 'train-wreck' but refuses to put more coal into the engine to speed things up.  He sees the inevitable 'train-wreck' but dutifully remains on the train where his responsibilities remain; perhaps he can alleviate some of the effects on the community by remaining.

I also suspect that I am reading into this some qualities of my own.  I have been accused of sticking with 'lost causes' to the bitter end; usually out of stubbornness.  That may be true.  Even in games, where the stakes were meaningless, I have done what I thought needed to be done regardless of what I knew they would cost me (okay, not 'meaningless' entirely, but not significant either).  I'm not sure why I do that or where I learned to approach things that way.  But I do.  Maybe Jonathan doesn't here.  But I still learn a lesson from him.

I am called (i.e. placed somewhere for something by my Master - there's a divine purpose) to where I am for this time.  I believe that my Master has called me here and now for some form of service, and I suspect that it has to do with a marriage mentoring program my wife and I are heading up.  At least I see that as a major part of His purpose. 

The program is lacking momentum, and the danger for me is look at it as a 'lost cause' or a 'waste of time'.  It's not.  The problems of my community require this service as part of any solution.  It is the time for this program, and this is definitely the place that needs it.  Through it I believe my Master can bring hope to a people and to a place without it.  It's just been hard to get people who initially said they want to be a part to communicate or keep it as a priority.  There are lots of reasons but the results are what have me concerned.

So, do I look at the situation and decide that what has people distracted (the stuff of daily life) has vanquished this service to the community?  Do I see a 'train-wreck' in trying to get this program off the ground?  Maybe, but I also see that by staying in it, I may be then available to my Master to make what He will with who He sends and with what He provides.  It will be a program about Him rather than me and my wife.  Jonathan submitted himself to the community, and his availability cost him his life.  I don't face any such sacrifice.  Instead, all that is needed is for me to continue in the path laid out by my Master and not 'jump ship (or trains as it were)' to some other program that I suspect has a better chance of success.  I truly think the light at the end of the tunnel is the glory of my Master rather than another train.  Time to pile on the coal!

Short Circuit

He used to go annually on circuit to Bethel and Gilgal and Mizpah, and he judged Israel in all these places.  Then his return was to Ramah, for his house was there, and there he judged Israel; and he built there an altar to the LORD. (1 Samuel 7:16-17 NASB)

 Eventually, 10 of the 12 tribes of Israel split off to form their own country with their own king.  But it's possible to see this as simply the extension of constantly living apart from the other two anyway.  Samuel's circuit makes a circle within the territory of the Tribe of Ephraim.  Beth El is the farthest north he goes.  Gilgal, Mizpah, and Ramah (which is the town where Samuel's Ephraimite father is from) are all Ephraimite towns.  This central highlands region was nominally in the center of all the tribes.

This wasn't the case for every judge, but it wasn't unusual either.  Deborah judged Israel within the same region, and there were judges from Judah (Ehud) and from Issachar (Tola), so all regions were represented to a degree.  It just seems a short circuit to judge all of Israel.  Later on in chapter 8, Samuel puts his two sons in positions of judge but far south.  It's as if he realizes that he should cover more territory. 

The problem with assessing this as an error or problem is that it worked.  It looks small when looked at on a map, but the comment is that God delivered Israel from their enemies all the days of Samuel.  It may have been a small regional judging circuit, but it seemed to work.  That still needs to be balanced against a mere "pragmatic" evaluation, because just because something works doesn't make it the right thing.  But here Samuel chooses a process and God blesses it.  That does make it the right thing.  It make look small, but God makes it effective.

The lesson I draw from this is that my own wisdom fails before my Master's designs.  Just because a plan looks small, or a program appears to be inadequate, or even when my service seems inconsequential, it is not right for me to judge them as such.  If Jesus can feed 5,000 with a few loaves and fish, then why would it seem impossible or even improbable that He would do great things with what I have to offer Him?  The goal is to be obedient with what He has provided me, the talents, the silver, and the opportunities.  It's up to my Master to bring about the success.

If what I have is sufficient for success, then I get the attention.  But if what I have to offer is clearly not sufficient, and success comes anyway, then my Master gets the attention.  I may be given a small territory to travel and work, but that limitation is not something limiting my Master.  It never takes Him by surprise, it doesn't thwart His designs, and such things are actually opportunities for Him to take center stage.

So while it may seem un-American to be happy about limitations and small-ness, perhaps these are what makes my Master's work more obvious.  Perhaps it is my weakness that enables His glory to show more clearly.  After all, it will never be any sort of ability of mine that saves anyone, so drawing any attention to me only endangers those people around me needing my Master.  The role I play is servant, His role is King; everyone look to the King!

A Very Tents Job

And he found a Jew named Aquila, a native of Pontus, having recently come from Italy with his wife Priscilla, because Claudius had commanded all the Jews to leave Rome. He came to them, and because he was of the same trade, he stayed with them and they were working, for by trade they were tent-makers.  And he was reasoning in the synagogue every Sabbath and trying to persuade Jews and Greeks.  But when Silas and Timothy came down from Macedonia, Paul began devoting himself completely to the word, solemnly testifying to the Jews that Jesus was the Christ. (Acts 18:2-5 NASB)

Ministry positions where the minister is required to have some sort of vocation besides the ministry is often referred to as a "tent-making" ministry because of this passage.  Ironically, this is the single reference to Paul having and using a trade while ministering.  That's not to say that he never did, but Luke only mentions it here, and then makes another comment that he stops as soon as Silas and Timothy arrive from Berea.

As a side note, those of you families who have someone among your family destined for the ministry, please don't use this passage as your support that the minister should have a way to support themselves.  The text actually says otherwise and you'll be shown to be wrong pretty fast.   While having another vocation in one's back pocket may be a good ministry option in our country, it's because of the unfaithfulness of churches not as a general rule of ministry.  Way too many congregational-governed churches simply don't want to pay for the services they gain from a minister, it's just that simple.  A living wage for the minister is considered a "persecution of the saints" for some reason.

The difference that Silas and Timothy made is that they brought a gift from Berea and other places which supplied his needs without the need to work as well.  Perhaps Silas and Timothy worked, perhaps not.  What Luke relates clearly is that Paul devoted himself entirely to the study of the Scriptures and discussion with the Jews regarding the Messiah, Jesus.

In letters back to Corinth, Paul states that perhaps he did the church there a disservice by not relying on them for his living as he had a right to do.  They interpreted that as an indicator that he wasn't really an apostle at all because he had other means of support besides that local group (1 Corinthians 9).  It might seem strange, but Paul considered taking a wage from them might be a hindrance, which might make sense, but they turned it on him, denouncing his apostleship because of it.  The Enemy is very ironic at times and has a wicked sense of humor.

The reality that Paul deals with in this chapter regarding support is that it was not always easy or possible to be supported by those to whom he ministers.  He considered it a possible hindrance to ask.  So he was ready to work to support himself until the Master provided from another quarter, which seemed to come once Silas and Timothy arrived.

I thought it interesting that a rabbi from Tarsus, who studied to be a Pharisee, is a tent-maker.  I suppose there must have been more demand for tents, or tent repair, than I imagine in Europe and Asia Minor.  I imagine the "Roman world" to be more "metropolitan", but merchants may have still required the services of tent making.  Even in Rome it would seem since Aquila and Priscilla came from there.  Perhaps working on sails or awnings or other sorts of shelters was all considered tent-making since the material might be similar.

The point is that this ministry of Paul was supported from something other than the church to which he ministered.  The second point is that this was a choice by Paul not to use his entitlement to the support from the church.  The third point is that Paul suffered consequences from this choice, but accepted them.

There are more details not really explicit here, but left implicit here and in other places.  Paul had a host with whom he stayed in any place, so he was not without a local means of support whether working a trade or not.  He may not have been earning a wage, but he was neither hungry nor without shelter.  He may have been "homeless" as he says in 1 Corinthians 9, but that was his calling to be moving about rather in a fixed location.  It's very different than a "parsonage" which a lot of churches use like a "bird house".  He had a host who provided meals and a place to sleep, possibly work and study.

I think that what this does for me is free me up to see what I do at my local church as ministry.  That would change my view of it, and perhaps take my work level up a notch.  It may not be a vocation, but it becomes a "calling",  I may be "tent-making" but I'm then in a vocation to support my work in our church.  If others who attended had this view, the work of the church would be very different as would the life and work of the pastor.  They'd find lots of eager hands to serve and help with our Master's work in our community.  It might make their lives a lot easier. 

Moving Where I Am

Now when they had traveled through Amphipolis and Apollonia, they came to Thessalonica, where there was a synagogue of the Jews. (Acts 17:1 NASB)

The brethren immediately sent Paul and Silas away by night to Berea, and when they arrived, they went into the synagogue of the Jews. (Acts 17:10 NASB)

Then immediately the brethren sent Paul out to go as far as the sea; and Silas and Timothy remained there.
Now those who escorted Paul brought him as far as Athens; and receiving a command for Silas and Timothy to come to him as soon as possible, they left. (Acts 17:14-15 NASB)

After these things he left Athens and went to Corinth. (Acts 18:1 NASB)

One of my least favorite things to do is move.  I hate it.  Partly because we have too much stuff, but mostly because it's so unsettling (duh, that's part of the point of moving).  I don't like uprooting, and I don't like getting resettled.  Recently (in the last few years), air travel has become another thing I don't like to do.  But for all these forms or types of travel, I do like to travel.

I like to drive long distances.  I like to see stuff, especially local stuff that tells the story of the place.  I like hearing people's story of why they're there or what happened way back when.  When I started college, everything I had for my dorm room fit in my truck; all of it.  It was actually a lot of stuff, but I was very proud that it all fit in one trip, books, rack stereo, computer (before laptops) and all.   It made it really easy to travel, pick up and go, I felt like I could be a gypsy.  I just have never had that mentality, but I had the truck.

Paul moved about a lot.  In fact, in the next chapter of Acts, 18, he doesn't even stay home long before heading out again for the northern regions of Asia Minor.  He didn't have a truck, all his stuff fit in his bag, on his back.  And he walked.  It couldn't have been easy in those days.  Sure merchants did it all the time, but they traveled in caravans, on wagons, and so on.  There was no "bus" to the interior regions of Anatolia, he had to hoof it; and do so with all his "gear".

Paul seems to love this sort of thing.  He goes to churches, strengthening them, and moving on to the next.  I'm not so wild about it.  It may fit some people just right, and they may love the very idea.  We're not all the same, and we're not all that different, but I believe that God has prepared and gifted some for this sort of Christian Road Show.  I read a book about a pastor from China, who moved about a lot.  He had a home, wife, children, but he also moved around to various churches.  It was a hard life, on him and his family, yet he felt compelled, and God used him tremendously because of his willingness to be a Christian Road Show. 

I don't feel so compelled.  I don't believe this is my "gifting" from my Master.  On the other hand, I wonder if I'm just too comfortable.  What if it is my "calling", but I'm too much in love with the "setup" I enjoy in this place?  That never lasts long.  I know something about myself.  I don't have a "road show" to take.  I have a gospel to proclaim, God is reconciling the world to Himself through His Son, Jesus.  But my "audience" is here.  I'm not one to take this message on the road.  At lest, not so far.  I have no "audience" beyond my neighborhood.

I suppose what I'm saying is that I'm not out there in front as much as back here in the background.  I'm okay with that.  I'll travel for vacation and family events, but my Master has planted me here, for these people.  I need to be about what my Master has for me rather than looking outward for 'the next big thing'.  Paul was not my model for method, but he is for attitude.  He submitted to the Master and went.  I need to submit to the same Master and stay.  There are others my Master has who are destined for Paul's model of method.  They need my prayer support and financial support.  And so I give of both.  But I also need to be about the work here around me.  There's plenty to do here.

Denied Passage in a Guided Mission

They passed through the Phrygian and Galatian region, having been forbidden by the Holy Spirit to speak the word in Asia; and after they came to Mysia, they were trying to go into Bithynia, and the Spirit of Jesus did not permit them; and passing by Mysia, they came down to Troas. (Acts 16:6-8 NASB)

One of the aspects of Luke's writing is his knack of leaving things out that don't really pertain to his point, and compressing time down to those things that do.  Like any author, he knew that not everything fits in a story where you have a specific ending point you're trying to reach.  It's a bit like film editing.  But what that does is bring the things he did include into sharper relief.  In Acts I learn that Paul isn't perfect; something that really concerned me reading his letters.  I find another example here in this passage.

His split with Barnabas over John Mark was one "plank-eyed" point in Paul's recorded history, but here's another, or at least one where I feel he joins the rest of Christian humanity.  He tries to go into an area to minister, but is prevented by the One he serves.  I love that because I do that.  I get in my head some idea of what would be a great way to minister.  I have some idea of what would really help God out (because He so desperately needs my help), or see an area where He hasn't reached yet, and think, "I'll go there!"

It has to be asked, why would there be an area where God would not want Paul to preach?  Seriously, at that point in time, there were virtually no reached peoples in the world.  A rock thrown in any direction would scarcely hit a believer anywhere in Antolia (Asia Minor or Turkey).  Yet God did not want Paul going where he so desperately wanted to go.  Instead he winds up at Troas, a huge port city and Roman colony.

Now, about my first statement that Luke leaves stuff out.  You're probably wondering about that.  Well, Galatia is a region where Paul writes a letter, so obviously he's been there and knows the churches.  But until this point Luke's never mentioned that, and even here never mentions Paul and believers in the region.  Clearly something was left out.  In fact, it hardly seems possible that Paul would be in a city the size and importance of Troas without ministering.  Yet that's not mentioned either.  In Luke's "tour of Paul", he's hitting high points.

In my imagination, I see Paul reaching the bustling port city of Troas and ending up as far west as he can go, sitting on one of the quay's staring at the sunset over the Aegean.  He's sad because he couldn't go where he was so sure he was supposed to be, and yet now he's here.  Why here?  As he sleeps that night, the view of the sunset visits his dream, only now, a man on the opposite shore is visible calling him to come over there! Ah ha! That's it!  He's been guided all this time.  That's my imagination.  It's much more likely Paul just went wherever and did whatever was needed believing all along that he was being guided.  But I like the picture in my head.

My point is that I don't always need a clear picture in order to move and minister, but I do need to be willing to be guided somewhere I'm not intending to go.   In a sense it's submission to the greater view point of my Master and His grander design.  It turns out that James later writes to churches in the regions where Paul was prevented from going.  It seems others reached there after all.  God hadn't forgot them.  It just wasn't up to Paul to be the arm with which He reached them.  I need to submit the picture my Master has, even if He hasn't shown it.  But as I wait, it's still good to try to discover this will, look around and try things He may be wanting done.  In a sense, it's good to move, and let the hand of my Master guide me like a trickle of water, wherever He wants me to go.  It sure beats being a stagnant mosquito-breeding pool of slime (like that's the only other option).  Keep the flow going!

How Do I Know When to Move On?

But the Jews who disbelieved stirred up the minds of the Gentiles and embittered them against the brethren.   Therefore they spent a long time there speaking boldly with reliance upon the Lord, who was testifying to the word of His grace, granting that signs and wonders be done by their hands.  But the people of the city were divided; and some sided with the Jews, and some with the apostles.  And when an attempt was made by both the Gentiles and the Jews with their rulers, to mistreat and to stone them, they became aware of it and fled to the cities of Lycaonia, Lystra and Derbe, and the surrounding region; and there they continued to preach the gospel. (Acts 14:2-7 NASB)

Paul and Barnabas keep moving from city to city, sharing the good news of Jesus as they go.  Yet they stay in a city as long as it takes for faith to take root.  In verse 3, they clearly stay in the face of opposition.  Yet in verse 6, as they become aware of a turn the opposition takes, they move on.  Moving on, they continued to preach the good news of Jesus.  So, in a sense, they never quit, just changed venues a few times.

So how did they know when the change of venue was warranted?  It's clear later on that Paul does not always move in the face of personal danger.  In the next city he is stoned, and still doesn't move on immediately.  So, how does he know?  What is his criteria?

By piecing together clues from this and the previous chapter, I believe that the criteria isn't always the same.  In this region they are in, the criteria is at least similar; or rather the context is similar.  So, any conclusion drawn is an interpretation rather than some sort of clear indication.  I think that Paul and Barnabas are using a criteria that waits until the opposition is so focused on them, rather than the people in general.  Once the opposition becomes all about them, they leave.

So, once it escalates to stoning in Iconium Paul and Barnabas, they move on.  Once Paul is stoned in Lystra, they move on shortly thereafter.  On the other hand, Luke doesn't tell us why they feel they are done in Derbe.  Maybe opposition wasn't all that bad in Derbe, or maybe Luke simply doesn't provide details which might be too repetitive.  In the previous chapter, Paul and Barnabas move through Cyprus without a lot of opposition, only noting Elymas or Bar-Jesus as an exception.  So, any criteria which included opposition was used in Asia Minor, not everywhere.

What becomes clear is that Paul and Barnabas know when to move on.  Whether they had done all they could and knew to leave the rest up to the locals, or they thought their presence had become more of a problem for the new congregations and they needed to give them some space, or any number of other options.  They knew.  So, the real conclusion I can draw here, solid observation from the text, is that my Master would let me know.  I believe He did in Idaho.  I believe He did in Texas before I brought my family out here to Nevada.  On the other hand, perhaps moving to California from Arizona when we did was not a move led by my Master.  Clearly, moving from California to Texas was the right move, that was confirmed right as we left.  It wasn't easy once we got there, but it was where we needed to be.

I ask this question because, as can be seen from the list of "where's", my family has moved a lot.  I didn't even mention them all.  I look at where I am now, and I know that I'm where I'm supposed to be.  But it is as I look back I wonder if I have always been where I was supposed to be.  I believe I can say with confidence that everywhere I've been, whether led to or fled to, my Master used me in that place.  Now He has led my family and me here.  I hope and believe that here is where He will keep me for some time.  On the other hand, I'm still available to Him for other options.  I believe He saw to that by putting us in a house where it is impossible to fully unpack.  So, here we are.  And here we will work, until my Master calls us elsewhere.

The Death of Disappointments

But the Lord said to him, "Go, for he is a chosen instrument of Mine, to bear My name before the Gentiles and kings and the sons of Israel; for I will show him how much he must suffer for My name's sake." (Acts 9:15-16 NASB)

The conversion of Saul is very dramatic; arguably the most dramatic in all of Acts.  For some this implies that the book is really about Saul.  For others it seems that it's just like Saul, who comes off as a bit of a drama king in this book.  But the intent and plan of God from the beginning of Saul's conversion seems to include a very rough life for Saul.

Just in chapter 9, his own people try to keep him in Damascus to kill him.  Just past that, in Jerusalem, his own people again plot to kill him.  And to get away from the "drama" he is shipped to Tarsus, where's he's from.  And there he remains, at least for a chapter and a half.  No time frame is given, but it seems unlikely this was his "fourteen years in Arabia" he describes in Galatians 1.  Luke seems to leave that part out of the story entirely.

Saul seems to be surrounded by turmoil, dissent, anger, and violence.  Where he goes, cities are in uproar, riots break out, violence against followers of Jesus ensues, and peace is difficult to find; at least until he leaves.  His "resume" offered to those who would question his apostolic office and authority is filled with his own suffering (2 Corinthians 11).

Does Saul ever wonder why him?  Ironically, in Acts 9, Jesus asks him, "Why Me?"  Does Saul ever ask the question back?  Perhaps when Saul asks for the "thorn" to be removed?  I'm not sure where the question can be seen in Acts or in Saul's letters.  But I'm fairly confident he asked it at some point.  Although to offset the pain of this suffering was his knowledge of the damage he did to the church in Jerusalem and Judea.  In his own mind, there had to be a lot for which to "atone".  This also makes him very aware of grace.

If he is disappointed in God, it nevers reaches paper.  Disappointment for Saul is reserved for his fellow believers.  And yet even that seems to disapate in later letters.  I think for Saul, the lesson he learns through his "dramatic" ministry is to hold lightly the expectation of others.  At some point, as he deals more with his "crew" of fellow ministers rather than churches, his tone toward churches is less about admonishing the church, and more about encouraging the leaders.  Even in his letter to the Philippian church, where he does seek to correct a dispute, he is more encouraging than in other earlier letters.

So what happened in him to affect such a change?  I believe his disappointments finally died.  He reached a point where he could see people in church in much the same way Jesus did.  Jesus was never surprised by people, even those who said they were followers.  Paul reaches a point where he isn't either.  He no longer expects people to "get it".  I'm not there yet.

I still want people to get it, and still struggle when they don't.  On the other hand, I keep discovering so much I don't get.  I'm decent at knowing and finding out, but putting what I learn into practice is not my strong suit.  The discovery is fun, the practice is hard.  I love to find stuff in Scripture, but acting out on the truth I discover means dying to myself, and I don't love that.  Yet until I do, I won't be happy.

When my Master rules in my heart and mind, I won't hold such a primary place.  The expectations I have of others, whether "Scripturally-Based" or not are truly about me more than my Master.  The ensuing disappointments cause pain that is not mine to bear; it belongs to my Master.  It is in the experience of failure to control what I cannot that I feel pain within the family of fellow believers. 

Sure I lament sin I see in me and in others, but it's not mine to "expunge".  Why should I expect them to be free from it when I'm not free of mine?  Why should I expect them to understand and apply what I do not?  I'm forgiven, and forgiven of a whole lot.  Yet that knowledge hasn't yet inspired me to renounce myself and wholy embrace my Master as Master.  When I, in this condition, am disappointed by others around me, I have refocused on me.  And I can't be focused on myself, and my Master at the same time.

When I am focused completely on my Master, I am no longer expecting anything of others except that they wander in confusion, just like I do.  I can't see the ridiculous difference between myself and my Master and yet have a higher expectation of others; not when I'm focused on my Master.  Saul suffered, and Jesus said that Saul would be shown how much Saul must suffer for Jesus' name.  What, am I better than Saul?  More worthy of ease and comfort?  Less likely to need such lessons?  Um...no.

So, it's time for me to quit whining, and start praying.  It's time for me to praise my Master, extoll His virtues and power, glorify Him viewing His awesome works in the heavens, and express His value to me.  What needs to change is the focus of my heart and mind.  What does that as well and as thoroughly as worship?  Nothing I can think of.

The Variety of Ministry

Now at this time while the disciples were increasing in number, a complaint arose on the part of the Hellenistic Jews against the native Hebrews, because their widows were being overlooked in the daily serving of food. So the twelve summoned the congregation of the disciples and said, "It is not desirable for us to neglect the word of God in order to serve tables. Therefore, brethren, select from among you seven men of good reputation, full of the Spirit and of wisdom, whom we may put in charge of this task.  But we will devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word." The statement found approval with the whole congregation; and they chose Stephen, a man full of faith and of the Holy Spirit, and Philip, Prochorus, Nicanor, Timon, Parmenas and Nicolas, a proselyte from Antioch.  And these they brought before the apostles; and after praying, they laid their hands on them. (Acts 6:1-6 NASB)

Well, yesterday and last night went well.  Wednesday was probably the most difficult, but yesterday went very well.  It ended with our small group studying Acts 5, and the conviction about how much like Ananias I am, and little like the apostles.  I couldn't make excuses, I need more faith.  That's all there is to that tune.

In the passage above, there is a word used in a variety of ways, and it's the word from which we derive the office of "deacon".  The word was used in the first century to refer to government ministers (bureaucrats) and waiters.  It means to serve in some way.  In the passage above the twelve apostles use it to refer to the ministry of dispensing food to needy widows, but also to their work with Scripture.

In this text, the apostles want to get back to the "ministry of the word" and prayer rather than "serve tables".  I don't know a pastor who wouldn't love that.  I don't know a pastor who gets to either. 

The element I like so much about this is that ministry can be seen both ways.  I don't think that is common in church as much as it should be.  Perhaps it is a mentality of taking from church rather than giving which influences this problem.  And I can't say that this problem is truly pervasive in every church everywhere.  But where it shows up, it's a problem.

If I can just help people, then I get a public pat on the back, and I feel good.  Sure it takes me out of a comfort zone, and gets me out of my own problems in a very real and important sense.  But if I serve others and neglect striving to understand my Master through Scripture, I end up serving others for wrong reasons.  It eventually becomes about me, I get burned out and discouraged, get judgmental toward others in the church not serving, and so on it goes.  I know that road, and I have seen the end of it.  And it's not happy.

So what is the alternative?  The alternative strives for a focus on Scripture, and service to others from out of that focus.  The leaders of the church devoted themselves to prayer and Scripture.  It had to be their focus in order to effectively lead the people as God directed.  So, my service to others must flow from the same focus.  I lead a small group on Thursday nights.  If I don't do so out of a focus on prayer and Scripture, then I am going to fail (regardless of my goals in leading a small group).

Both prayer and Bible study are needed.  I suffer in prayer to a focus on Scripture.  I need both.  So, on that note, please excuse me as I turn my attention from this, to my Master as I pray.

The Lot of Ministry

At this time Peter stood up in the midst of the brethren (a gathering of about one hundred and twenty persons was there together), and said, "Brethren, the Scripture had to be fulfilled, which the Holy Spirit foretold by the mouth of David concerning Judas, who became a guide to those who arrested Jesus.  For he was counted among us and received his share in this ministry."
(Now this man acquired a field with the price of his wickedness, and falling headlong, he burst open in the middle and all his intestines gushed out.  And it became known to all who were living in Jerusalem; so that in their own language that field was called Hakeldama, that is, Field of Blood.)
"For it is written in the book of Psalms, 'LET HIS HOMESTEAD BE MADE DESOLATE, AND LET NO ONE DWELL IN IT'; 'LET ANOTHER MAN TAKE HIS OFFICE.'  Therefore it is necessary that of the men who have accompanied us all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us --  beginning with the baptism of John until the day that He was taken up from us -- one of these must become a witness with us of His resurrection." (Acts 1:15-22 NASB)

I've been away from this blog too long.  Part of the reason is that I have been busy working over Acts 1.  For some reason the Greek was giving me problems that I had not been having with Hebrew.  I thought it was supposed to be the other way around.  But having completed this passage, I find a few things that shed light on the character of my Master for me.

Two of those things are in the passage above.  The first one has to do with an opinion that in this passage, the disciples make a mistake in selecting a replacement for Judas.  The view goes that God selects Paul later, and what they do here is a selection by human wisdom.  I disagree with this view.  It's not widely held, but is not uncommon either. 

Part of what is seen as the problem is that the disciples didn't wait for the Holy Spirit Who figures prominently in the next chapter.  It's my opinion about this opinion that the ones holding it see that event incorrectly as well.  I understand Jesus to have "breathed on them" and they received the Holy Spirit after His resurrection (John 20:22).  In Luke 24 Jesus opens their minds to understand the Scriptures.  So, I don't see any reason the disciples would have been deficient in their ability to make godly decisions.

Apart from my disagreement with the opinion over those interpretations, I found something else this past week.  In verse 17, Peter refers to Judas being given the ministry by lot.  It is never translated that way, but the word used is the same used for the process of selection in verse 26.  So Matthias receives his share in ministry just as Judas did, at least in the understanding of the disciples.  I never caught that before because translation opted for two different ways to translate the same thing.  That may have been appropriate, but it also obscured a connection clearly made in the original language.

The second thing I noted was the purpose for the "office" or ministry.  It wasn't to "rule" the people, it was to safeguard the memory of Jesus' earthly ministry.  I don't think Paul would have been able to do that.  When Paul says that the apostles didn't add anything to his message, he wasn't referring to his knowledge of Jesus, but the good news he proclaimed to the Gentiles; salvation in Jesus.  The details of Jesus' life had to be filled in, and that had to come from these 12 men who were actually there.

I find it interesting that there were at least 2 others who were there the whole time.  I never really thought that anyone other than the initial disciples were there, but it makes sense.  Jesus had to choose 12, which implies that some were not chosen, that He had a group to choose from numbering over 12.  So how many were there, and why Judas over Matthias right at the beginning?

The character of my Master that I see shining through in this passage is His use of lots.  I just think that is interesting.  It is a concession on His part to our limitations of knowledge and inability to really communicate with Him.  And it is an act of faith on our part acknowledging that we have those limitations and it is truly up to our Master to decide, it throws the decision into His court.  I also see it interesting that they saw their initial selection in somewhat the same way.  In the absence of Jesus, the casting of lots was the closest they could come to the same process.

I think I need to acknowledge the end of my understanding and my need for a "lot" at points in my life.  I'm not all that ready to do this simple thing sometimes.  I expect that I can figure it out (or that I'm supposed to), that I can just follow this process and my Master will conform to it, or that I already know enough to move on.  When facing several choices, all of seemingly excellent spiritual quality and God-glorifying potential I have to fall back on my Master and not rely on my own wisdom.  I'm only more "numbskullish" when I don't fess up to my obvious limits in knowledge.  It's one thing to be a numbskull, and I often am, but it's even worse to pretend I'm not and not seek my Master's clarity in such an obvious need.  I suppose sometimes is a problem caused by my not seeing the choices in this way, but that is again the numbskull-matt taking control. Yes, I am some sort of numbskull.

It’s about my Master, even though it has a lot of me in it

One of my favorite things to do when I was in ministry was preaching.  When I was out of ministry and living back in California, I preached a Saturday service for my church, but without pay (my favorite ministry so far).  I really enjoyed the preaching, but my preaching never brought people to the church or to the Saturday worship.  One of the remarkable things about my experience preaching was when I felt the message was a disaster, how many were touched by it.  I learned, slowly, that it has so little to do with me, and so much to do with my Master.  I loved to preach, but it was always an exercise of my own spiritual development first, and so little of my ability.

Essentially, what I learned is that the preaching I did wasn’t about me either.  I could get really excited about a passage, pour myself into study and prayer, and then let all that excitement blow out all the results of my study and prayer all over the sanctuary.  That really didn’t have the effects I wanted.  I wanted people to join me in my excitement over what I found in the passage.  They really didn’t, or at least not enough of the time for me to consider it a normal response.  Even though my Master worked me over with a passage, He did His own different work with the congregation when I preached.  It was a really confusing lesson to learn.

When I took a course on storytelling, the instructor said that a story, once told, no longer belongs to the teller, but to the listeners.  I think sermons are like that as well, but for different reasons.  With stories, different elements impact different people at different points depending on their own life experiences.  With a sermon, I found that my Master as their Master worked on them using what was preached to affect His own ends.  Sometimes, and the most obvious examples, I saw when what He used was a very insignificant side comment, and what He did had little or nothing to do with my “main point” of the sermon.

This blog is sort of like that as well.  I put into these entries what I sense my Master doing in me, and He does with them whatever He wants in others.  With this media, He can use them long after I’ve written them.  At least I hope He uses them.  I have to remind myself that it’s not about me even though I write about what’s going on with me.  These, like the sermons, are about my Master.  Once written, they really don’t even belong to me anymore.  Like time, they are things in the past hopefully affecting a better future with my Master.  I should probably survey them from the beginning to see if there is any progression.

So here is another entry.   I will do another twelve (up to December 15), and then post the entries that never made it to the blog site but were either diary or Facebook entries last year (they begin on December 16, 2010).  After that I think I will begin to work on the Gospel of John and a project to survey examples of Hebrew Torah legal texts searching for relevant lessons.  I won’t do both every day, and my plan is to work on them sort of back and forth.  But my plans are just ideas I pursue while waiting for my Master to direct me into something else.  I have no idea how long such blogs will run.  Welcome to the Winter of my Contentment.  It feels…odd, but very peaceful.

Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, December 3

Is Obedience the Key to Usefulness to my Master?

In John 14, the “pep-talk” Jesus gives His disciples is full of rather peculiar elements.  Chambers says that Jesus never insists upon obedience, and yet Jesus says to His disciples in the same discourse referenced by Chambers that, “a new commandment I give you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you, that you also love one another.”  Is a commandment not insistence?

 

I suppose such a command is not insistence like Chambers is referring to.  He basically means that Jesus doesn’t force obedience, but allows choice regarding obedience.  It does seem rather strange that in this I have choice, in salvation not so much (am I the elect?).  Here again, I see his point, but I also believe he goes a bit far with it.  He says that my Master does not give me rules, and yet He gives me a new commandment.  True it’s not a rule in the traditional sense, but it has a few similarities.

 

What I can’t do is limit my Master to what He will accomplish, even through me.  I have seen far too often in retrospect, that my Master will accomplish something through me almost regardless of me.  I think He does this because it demonstrates how little I am needed for His work.  I’m invited, but not indispensable. That’s comforting, because of the sheer number of mistakes I make, I’d hate the stress of believing someone else’s eternity depended upon me.  So, I don’t posit my Master’s ability to reach through me on me.  What I posit on my obedience is the degree to which I participate and the degree to which I am aware of His work.

 

When my fear stops me from engaging obediently in my community, then I cut myself off from the blessings of seeing my Master work.  He still works, and will even use me from time to time, I just don’t see it except in retrospect.  I miss the blessings of joy and excitement to see my Master accomplish the miracle of redemption in the lives of people around me.  That’s a big blessing to give up just because I don’t know what might happen.

 

I hope to have a teacher meeting this afternoon, and perhaps that will provide an opportunity to engage obediently with my community in a real manner.  But there may be others.  I had a remote control helicopter crash two back yards away, which gave me the opportunity to meet some neighbors I don’t normally see.  I guess I just never know where the opportunities may come from.  Perhaps I need to fly the silly helicopter more and meet more people that way?  I’m sure there are better ways, like… wow, such a lack of creativity.  I am so dependent upon my Master, even for creative ways to meet the neighbors.  Maybe I need more coffee this morning.

 

Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, November 2

The Commission Flanked with Power and Presence

The “Great Commission” has been used to the point it has faded into familiarity for many believers.  In some ways it has for me simply because so many have miss used it, calling themselves “Great Commission Churches” but seeming to leave out the foundation of the “sending”; that all power was given to Jesus.  It’s as if they are saying, “we have the commission, so let’s go, we got this!”  The commission is not “power” but direction, and not even complete direction.

One element of the commission discussed ad nausem is the grammatical structure. It’s a difficult structure to disentangle.  But the meaning is fairly straight forward, regardless of how the grammatical structure is understood.  It seems like a procedural command, laying out the process used to reach the world.  In Luke Jesus gave the geographical picture, here He gives the procedural.  Regardless of how the grammar is understood, one element not open for debate is the foundation that all power in heaven and on earth has been given to Jesus.  That much is crystal clear.

So, when I read the procedures, I see procedures that stem from the power of my Master.  It’s not my ability or talent for making disciples (or even going), but His power.  It’s not my knack for teaching or communicating that transmits what I have been taught, but the power of my Master.  And it is not my presence in the lives of others that tips the scales of their heart toward Jesus, but the powerful presence  of Jesus; right up to the completion of this age.

The power wielded by Jesus sends me out, enables all peoples to become disciples, emboldens all peoples to be baptized, opens hearts and minds to learn, and awakens souls to the presence of my Master.  I have little to do with it.  I am a spectator of the power at work around and through me.  It is and always has been Jesus saving the world; including my community.  The question is not “can He” or “will He”, but will I join Him obediently, will I submit to His sending me out into the community.  It is when I go obediently that I witness the power of my Master at work in the lives around me, and in my own.

The going, the discipling, the baptizing, the teaching all enables me to behold that Jesus is with me all the way; that it is Him at work all throughout.  Without His power and presence there would be very little of the discipling, baptizing, teaching and no witnessing of the power of my Master.  It can’t be about me, my church, my pastor, or my small group.  It must be about my Master and stem from my connection to Him; that my name is written in the book of life.

So, when the Great Commission is again pulled out and examined, let me start with the power of my Master, and end with His presence.  The stuff in the middle is encompassed in those two things.  Very little else is important.  Jesus is Master and King, let me be the servant introducing others to an audience with Him, bowing out and shutting the door, allowing them to speak together in peace.

Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, October 27