Growing Through Obedience

“‘Aslan” said Lucy “you’re bigger’.
‘That is because you are older, little one’ answered he.
‘Not because you are?’
‘I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.’ (C.S. Lewis, Prince Caspian).”

There’s one part in Prince Caspian where Aslan calls out to Lucy to follow him, and to get the others to do the same. The catch is that Lucy is the only one who can see or hear him. The others will have to take her word for it.

That’s the moment where Lucy chooses to trust in Aslan and obey him, even though it might feel like she’s the only one. She has to go even if she goes alone.

That’s what genuine faith looks like. Faithfulness and obedience can be lonely sometimes, especially when so many others are too busy trying to blend in and not make waves to truly follow Jesus. When you are obedient, sometimes your biggest critics will come from inside the Church, not outside.

William Carey, the father of modern missions, faced opposition from other clergymen for wanting to take the gospel to India. Imagine that. Pastors and church leaders not wanting to take the gospel to unreached people. But it happened.

William Carey’s faithfulness made it possible for others to take the gospel around the world, so that heaven could be filled with voices from every tribe and tongue, every skin color and hair color, gathered around the throne as depicted in the book of Revelation.

Obedience might mean standing in the minority for what’s right versus what’s popular. William Penn once said, “Right is right, even if everyone is against it, and wrong is wrong, even if everyone is for it.”

In Prince Caspian, Lucy gets the rest to follow her. Some were more willing than others to go, but they all went. None of them could see Aslan until after they had stepped out in faith, but once they were committed to following, they could see him leading the way.

That’s the way faith is sometimes. You can’t see God until you obey what He’s told you to do. Obedience leads to faith being made sight.

A Symphony of Prayers

“We are not alone. My prayers are perhaps a single note in a symphony, but a necessary note, for I believe in the communion of saints. We need each other. The prayers of one affect all. The obedience of one matters infinitely and forever” (Elisabeth Elliot, Keep a Quiet Heart, See I Corinthians 12:12).

I love that image. All the prayers of all the saints make a kind of symphony that is pleasing to God. I do think that God hears and answers each individual prayer, but I also believe that collectively they rise to the Lord as an incense and aroma like the animal sacrifices of old.

There is something powerful that happens when two or more are gathered in Jesus’ name. The Church can have a greater Kingdom act when gathered together than all the people working and praying separately. That’s why it’s vital to gather and not neglect the meeting together of the people of God.

Each prayer matters. Each act of obedience matters. Together they make up a symphony and show the hands and feet of Jesus to a world that has a need that it cannot name but will recognize Jesus in us as we preach both in our actions and our words.

Unselfishness Vs. Love

“If you asked twenty good men today what they thought the highest of the virtues, nineteen of them would reply, Unselfishness. But if you had asked almost any of the great Christians of old, he would have replied, Love. You see what has happened? A negative term has been substituted for a positive, and this is of more than philological importance. The negative idea of Unselfishness carries with it the suggestion not primarily of securing good things for others, but of going without them ourselves, as if our abstinence and not their happiness was the important point. I do not think this is the Christian virtue of Love. The New Testament has lots to say about self-denial, but not about self- denial as an end in itself. We are told to deny ourselves and to take up our crosses in order that we may follow Christ; and nearly every description of what we shall ultimately find if we do so contains an appeal to desire. If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased” (C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory).

I heard someone wise once say that it’s not enough to resist temptation, unlearn bad habits, and give up unhealthy thoughts and actions. You need to replace all these with good habits, healthy choices, and obedience. Otherwise, you end up with a different set of bad habits and vices.

I remember my pastor commented on how old-school Baptists were known more for what they were against than what they were for. He said they used to show up in church and brag about not having done anything bad — or actually anything at all.

To be unselfish just to be unselfish is missing the mark. You’re likely to pick up bitterness (from all that you gave up) or self-righteousness (at how much better you are than those who still indulge in what you gave up).

Love is the opposite of selfishness, not unselfishness, because it is self-less. We don’t need to think less of ourselves as the antidote to thinking too much of ourselves. We just need to think about ourselves less and more about others and God.

We miss the mark when we make it about modifying our behavior and being more moral when it’s about emptying of self so there’s more room for God and His ways. It’s not about becoming a slightly better version of me but about becoming a brand new me, one that looks and acts like Jesus.

Nothing Else Will Do

I’m excited. My church is weeks away from moving to a permanent campus where everything will be brand new and shiny. I’m reminded of the metaphor Jesus used about believers being a city on a hill, because this new location is literally sitting on a hill over looking the intersection.

I’m super hyped, but I’m also smart enough to know that the honeymoon won’t last. More accurately, I’ve hopefully learned by now through lots of times where I got excited only to see the enthusiasm fade and normalcy fade in.

I can remember all those Christmas gifts that I was thrilled to get. I remember how I felt, but looking back, I can’t remember the specific gifts any more. They lost their luster and faded from my memory. Some of them even ended up in garage sales a few years later.

That’s how it goes with anything I set my heart on this side of eternity. Anything less than God won’t fill that God-shaped yearning in me. Or as C. S. Lewis put it, anything that isn’t eternal is eternally out of date and obsolete.

I look forward to our move-in date in late May. I hope I will always be grateful for this gracious gift on God’s part. But I know that at some point, it will be just a building. More than likely, it will require maintenance and updating and repairs. And at some point, it will be no more.

But what it represents and what our church is all about (and every true Bible-believing church is all about) won’t ever fade or get stolen or moth-eaten or rust. The hope of God-with-us revealed in Jesus will only get better and more wonderful and more glorious over time, past time, and into eternity.

The Birthdays Keep Coming

At some point, I wish the birthdays would just stop.

I don’t mean I don’t want any more birthdays. I definitely don’t mean that I don’t want to live any longer.

What I do mean is that I wish that I could get to a comfortable age number and stop there. I think 35 would have been a good age to remain for a while. Maybe now I can stay 52 for a few years.

But then I remember people like my friend Nathan or my cousin Timothy who won’t get to see 52. They never got the opportunity to grow old because they left so young.

So I’m thankful for another birthday. It means I got to live. It means I got to experience God’s world and especially God in the world for another 365 days. I got to take for granted that I would wake up every morning.

As much as I enjoy opening birthday gifts, the biggest gift I get every single year is the gift of being alive and being loved. I’m reminded that I have a physical birthday on February 28, but I also have a spiritual birthday on which I prayed the sinner’s prayer and invited Jesus into my heart.

That was the day that I went from being lost to found, from being dead in sin to being alive to God. It was the day that I became a new creation and a follower of Jesus, not because I was especially deserving or good. It was because God is good and full of grace.

I think my friend Nathan or my cousin Timothy could have the chance to say some final words, they’d say that the most important gift anyone could ever receive is the gift of knowing Jesus and receiving what He did by taking our punishment on the cross, dying, and then being raised from the dead.

If anyone reading this wants to know more about following Jesus, I’ve included this link that shares the plan of salvation:

Known by the Scars

I had one of those wow moments when I was flipping channels recently. I came across a discussion group involving Ann Voskamp, Sheila Walsh, and a few others. One of them said that so many of us base our identity on the wounds that others have inflicted on us rather than on the wounds that Jesus bore for us. That was a WOW moment that left me Without Words.

I think it’s telling that in one miracle, Jesus asks a paralytic if he wants to be well. You would think it would be a Captain Obvious question with the inevitable answer of YES, but then so many of us have built so much of our identities around our pain and our hurt that we wouldn’t have anything left if our affliction were suddenly taken away.

A better way is to be identified with the Suffering Servant who was wounded for our transgressions, who bore scars on His hands, feet and side from taking the punishment that we deserved on Himself. This is the Jesus who still bears those scars even in Heaven.

All of us will be called at some point to suffer for the cause of Christ. Some will suffer physically. Some even to the point of death. One of the greatest honors I can think of is to bear wounds and scars from following Jesus faithfully through opposition, trials, suffering, and pain. Maybe too some of us will bear scars in heaven.

I do know for sure that Jesus was willing to lay down His life for each and every one of us. Your and my identity rests in the fact that God so loved us that He gave His only Son, Jesus, so that we should not be lost but have real, abundant, and eternal life in and with God. We are no longer strangers and aliens, outcasts with no hope or future but children of God, the Bride of Christ, and beloved.

Chariots of Fire

One of my favorite movies of all time, Chariots of Fire, is based on an actual true story. The film is an account of the life of Eric Liddell, or at least the part of his life where he chooses between going to China to be a missionary and training for the Olympic games.

The movie hit theaters back in 1981. I can’t say with 100% confidence that everything portrayed in the movie is the way it actually happened. Hollywood does tend to take liberties for the sake of dramatic tension and for those feel-good moments.

I can say that the real Eric Liddell was willing to live and die for the sake of the gospel. He ended up going to China after the 1924 Olympics (spoiler alert), where he remained until his death in 1945. He literally sacrificed his life at age 43 for Christ because he felt that to lose your life is to gain it and to die for Christ is gain.

These are his actual words that reflect the heart of a true missionary and follower of Jesus Christ:

“I believe in God the Father, Almighty, Creator, infinitely holy and loving, who has a plan for the world, a plan for my life, and some daily work for me to do. I believe in Jesus, the Christ, the Son of God, as Example, Lord, and Savior. I believe in the Holy Spirit who is able to guide my life so that I may know God’s will; and I am prepared to allow him to guide and control my life. I believe in God’s law that I should love the Lord my God with all my heart, and with all my soul, and with all my mind, and with all my strength; and my neighbor as myself. I believe it is God’s will that the whole world should be without any barriers of race, color, class, or anything else that breaks the spirit of fellowship. To believe means to believe with the mind and heart, to accept, and to act accordingly on that basis” (Eric Liddell).

Befriending Your Pain

Note: this was originally posted on October 10, 2021:

“I want to say to you that most of our brokenness cannot be simply taken away. It’s there. And the deepest pain that you and I suffer is often the pain that stays with us all our lives. It cannot be simply solved, fixed, done away with. . . . What are we then told to do with that pain, with that brokenness, that anguish, that agony that continually rises up in our heart? We are called to embrace it, to befriend it. To not just push it away . . . to walk right over it, to ignore it. No, to embrace it, to befriend it, and say that is my pain and I claim my pain as the way God is willing to show me his love” (Henri Nouwen).

C. S. Lewis said that God speaks to us through our pain. Oftentimes, pain is the only way for God to get our attention, distracted as we are by our pleasures and pursuits. Living in a beautiful but broken world, it’s not hard to find pain. God simply uses that pain to speak to us, to gently remind us that He is near, to mold us into something closer to His likeness.

God of this City

I confess that I have had a certain worship song on my mind for quite some time. The song is God of This City, as recorded by Chris Tomlin in 2011 for his Hello, Love album. My church is in the middle of a Pursue campaign, part of which is for the purchase and renovation of a facility for my campus, The Church at Avenue South.

The song originated from a mission trip to Pattaya, Thailand and speaks to how where God is present, better things are still to come. It fits with what I believe God is doing in the city of Nashville. I believe God will use all nine of Brentwood Baptist Church’s regional campuses, including The Church at Avenue South, to start an awakening in this city.

Also, I can’t believe this song is already 13 years old.

“You’re the God of this city
You’re the King of these people
You’re the Lord of this nation
You are

You’re the light in this darkness
You’re the hope to the hopeless
You’re the peace to the restless
You are

There is no one like our God
There is no one like our God

For greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this city
Greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this city

You’re the God of this city
You’re the King of these people
You’re the Lord of this nation
You are

You’re the light in this darkness
You’re the hope to the hopeless
You’re the peace to the restless
You are

There is no one like our God
There is no one like our God

For greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this city
Greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this city

Greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done here

There is no one like our God
There is no one like you, God

For greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this city
Greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done

We believe, we believe in you, God

Greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this city
Greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done here
Greater things, still to be done here” (Aaron Boyd / Andrew Mccann / Ian Jordan / Peter Comfort / Peter Kernaghan / Richard Bleakley).

Kissing a Few Frogs

In a business setting, to kiss a few frogs means that you don’t quit on your first mistake or your first failure. You keep going. You keep dreaming and trying new things and hoping for the best until one of those hare-brained schemes finally works.

I think the same goes for car shopping. None of the cars I’ve looked at have been frogs by any means, but none of them were the one for me to drive home and call my own.

I’ve learned a bit in the experience of looking for a Wrangler. I’ve been able to refine what I consider must-haves and nice-to-haves. I still don’t want any manual windows. Been there, done that, got rained on a few times.

I’d prefer a 2-door, but I’m not opposed to a 4-door for the right price. I’m pretty sure I want a hard top and normal tires (as opposed to the oversized off-road tires).

I still can’t see myself in any other car but a red one. My faithful audience expects me to pull up in a red Jeep, and I just can’t disappoint.

Above all, this is one more way that God is using to strengthen my prayer life. I keep going back to that prayer of Jehosaphat from 2 Chronicles 20:12: “We don’t know what to do, but our eyes are on you.”

I’m praying and believing that God will lead me to the right Jeep at the right time not because I am so faithful to pray and so diligent in my faith but because He is faithful to His promises and He remembers me when I forget.

So here’s to more coffee and carsguru.com and lots more praying. And maybe a few weeks from now, I’ll have a update post with color pictures and everything.