Keith’s Legacy

It’s hard to believe that Keith Green went home to be with the Lord 43 years ago today. What amazes and saddens me even more was that he was only 28 years old at the time. He was able to accomplish so much and leave behind a legacy of music and ministry in such a short amount of time.

I think Keith would be grieved at the current state of the American Church. He’d see that so many people and churches that profess to follow Jesus now teach a kind of universalist message that the Apostle Paul would call another gospel. So many have surrendered their core beliefs for the illusion of fitting in and conforming to the culture. Sadly, even entire denominations have gone away from true faith.

I don’t think for one moment that Keith Green was perfect. He himself would admit as much. However, he did more to call people to repentance and faith in Jesus than just about anyone else. He begged and pleased for people to get right with the Lord. He also begged and pleaded for lukewarm churches to recover their first love and not be asleep in the light when so many outside their stained glass windows are perishing without Christ and without hope.

But I believe as always that there is a remnant that is faithful. As in the early Church and all throughout history, there has been a small core of true believers who have kept the gospel message alive even when it was unpopular or even deadly to do so. People all around the world are holding on to the message of Christ in the face of persecution and martyrdom. I think Keith would be so proud of them.

I love that I have all of his albums but one. I can put them on my turntable and drop the needle and instantly Keith, yet though he were dead, still speaks. His message and the message of all who have come after remains just as true and timely now as it was back in 1982 and down through all the centuries before that.

May we hold true to the Apostles Creed and the Gospel, and may all who come behind us find us to have been faithful.

Live Gladly

“The greatest honor we can give Almighty God is to live gladly because of the knowledge of his love”(Julian of Norwich).

I think one of the biggest turnoffs to faith is people who profess Christ but spend most of their days with sour faces and unpleasant dispositions. If you truly have been made alive by the grace of God, shouldn’t you be filled with joy?

I get that people have bad days, but even on the bad days there is good. Even the worst days have a little bit of good in them. I don’t think people should fake being happy when their lives are falling apart, but I think that people who know the peace of Jesus should live like it and live like it matters because it does.

I knew a man once who was a former pastor and a greeter at a church event I attended weekly. I found out that he was dying from cancer, but every time I asked him how he was doing, he would say he was fine. He never complained or whined. He showed up as long as he was able and served with a smile because he knew that cancer would not have the last word.

Looking back, I feel a bit ashamed because I know I probably complained about my life to a man who was in a battle way worse than anything I’ve ever faced. Still, he was gracious to me. He showed me Jesus in the midst of his own pain and suffering.

My prayer is that I can be like that. I hope I can exude joy so that people around me who don’t know Jesus will want to know where that joy comes from. That’s actually my prayer for all of us. May we be living billboards of grace whose lives preach just as good of a sermon as any words we could ever use. May our words and deeds (not one or the other but both) tell of a good God and a gracious Savior who can save anybody at any time.

Courage, Dear Heart

It’s a scene from my favorite Narnia book, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C. S. Lewis. In this particular moment, Lucy on board the Dawn Treader as it sails into a sea of darkness so think that you can’t even see your hand in front of your face. It’s the place where nightmares become real. Lucy is afraid.

She sees an albatross flying overhead. She whispers a prayer to Aslan (a type of Christ in Narnia) to help them get through. Suddenly, the albatross flies near and whispers in the voice of Aslan, “Courage, dear heart.”

We all need to hear those words sometimes. We’re not asking God to take away the fear or the scary situation, but for God to give us courage in the midst of it. In the book, Lewis writes that Lucy’s immediate circumstances did not change but that she did begin to feel a bit better.

In the same way, God doesn’t automatically remove the hard things from our lives our immediately still the storms in our lives. He does remind us of His promise to be with us through the waves and the flames and any kind of adversity.

When we get to the other side, it’s generally with a stronger faith and a story to tell. God comforts us in the midst of adversities so that we can turn around and comfort others in the same kinds of trials and tribulations with the same comfort that we ourselves received from God. It becomes a way of letting others know about the goodness of God that they can experience firsthand if they will only put their trust in Jesus as Lord and Savior.

That’s the phrase some of you need right now in the middle of whatever your facing: “Courage, dear heart. God is near.”

Don’t Miss This Chapter

Personally, I’d rather skip to the good part. That’s the danger of the DVR age where you can record stuff off of the television and skip all the commercials and boring parts. We think that somehow God owes it to us to remove us from the boring or painful parts of life and take us directly to the good stuff.

But the boring and painful parts are where we learn and grow and become the people who are ready for the good stuff. I’ve heard and I truly believe that if God gave us everything we wanted right now (even if it was all good and godly things), it would destroy us.

Part of God’s timing is getting the thing we’re about to receive ready. Part is getting us ready to receive it. Both are necessary. Also, we learn to appreciate the good more when we’re in a season of bad. Or just in a season of not as good.

Sometimes, God uses this life to remind us not to settle down here. We need to be reminded that this is not our forever home. The world as it is is a beautiful but broken place, and we are wonderfully made but also broken people living in it. Until both are fixed, it’s not fit for eternity.

So God uses the parts I’d rather skip to teach me. He uses the parts that at the time make no sense to prune me and mold me and shape me into someone who looks and sounds and acts a whole lot like Jesus. He takes those seemingly never-ending boring parts to cultivate in us a spirit of patience and longsuffering and joy and peace that we would not otherwise learn if life were all fun and games and good parts.

Our part isn’t to figure out what God is doing or to try to manipulate Him into skipping the parts we don’t like. His part is to make us like Jesus and into people who are ready to receive what He’s prepared for us from the foundation of the world. Our part is to trust and obey.

Measuring the Size of the Mountain

I like that. Some problems might seem as big and immovable as mountains, but God still moves mountains. I heard someone say once that prayer isn’t so much about reminding God how big your problems are but reminding your problems how big your God is. Ain’t that the truth?

It’s easy to get caught up in the logistics of what looks like an impossible situation. You and I can easily be like Peter and get distracted by the waves and take our eyes off of Jesus. Then we’re sunk.

But thankfully, Jesus can still save. Jesus can take us out of our problems and obstacles, but more often than not, He takes us through them rather than around or over them. Our faith grows as we see God overcome what we thought was hopeless.

Jesus said that if we had faith, we could say to the mountain to move, and it would move. He didn’t say what the size of the faith had to be. I think it’s because it’s not the amount of the faith you have that makes miracles and moves mountains but the source of your faith. God is the one doing the moving.

I still believe that’s true for followers today as it was for followers back then. We may not see the same kind of struggles and trials that those disciples did back in the first century, but we have enough of our own. And we find if we remain faithful long enough that God can still work on behalf of those whose hearts are steadfast toward Him.

This is not me telling you to squeeze your eyes and summon up more faith. Even a tiny mustard seed amount of faith will do if it’s in the right place. I still remember what a friend from college used to say: it’s not big faith in God but faith in a big God. Remember that as you can stand still and watch those mountains move.

No Matter What

“Our prayers for guidance (or for anything else) really begin here: I trust him. This requires abandonment. We are no longer saying, ‘If I trust him, he’ll give me such and such,’ but ‘I trust him. Let him give me or withhold from me what he chooses” (Elisabeth Elliot, God’s Guidance: A Slow & Certain Light).

It’s easy to fall into the trap of trying to bargain with God. Something along the lines of “I’ll trust you if you will give me a) a job, b) a spouse, or c) lots of money.”

It feels more like a transaction than faith. If God does X, then I’ll do Y. The trouble is that I’m in no position to bargain with God. He’s the Eternal Lord and King of the Universe who has every right to destroy me because of my sin, and I’m the one who’s only alive at this moment because of His grace.

The truth is that if all God ever did was to save me from an eternity in hell and leave me alone, that would be way more than I deserve. That alone would merit my praise from now until 10,000 X 10,000 years have passed.

But that’s not all God did. He has sustained me and blessed me and been with me through every kind of joy and sorrow, triumph and trial. All He asks in return is my allegiance. My loyalty. My surrender. Me.

It’s not wrong to ask God for things, but the more I spend time with God and in His word and the more I grow in Christlikeness, the things I ask for change and my desire to have them changes.

God doesn’t owe me anything. Even the next breath is a gift. I owe God everything, more than I could possibly ever pay in a million lifetimes. Yet all God asks for is me. I think that’s a good enough reason to trust Him no matter what.

Life Is a Fairy Tale

I suppose whether you agree with this or not depends on your definition of what makes a fairy tale. Is it void of any true hardship or suffering? Then that’s not a true fairy tale. Does it need fantastical creatures? That’s debatable, but I think not.

What a fairy tale needs is a happy ending. You know going in that the main character is going to live happily ever after.

If you look at life strictly from this side of heaven, then it’s not a fairy tale. There’s so much suffering and evil that goes unresolved and unpunished. There are so many wrongs that never get put right.

But if you look through the lens of the resurrection, then you see the fairy tale. In fact, you could see the whole Bible story as a sort of true fairy tale where the King comes to rescue His beloved from imminent danger.

It all depends on perspective. If you see your life through the eyes of faith, you know that the happy ending is coming, even if you might not see it this side of eternity. But it is coming.

“It is a world of magic and mystery, of deep darkness and flickering starlight. It is a world where terrible things happen and wonderful things too. It is a world where goodness is pitted against evil, love against hate, order against chaos, in a great struggle where often it is hard to be sure who belongs to which side because appearances are endlessly deceptive. Yet for all its confusion and wildness, it is a world where the battle goes ultimately to the good, who live happily ever after, and where in the long run everybody, good and evil alike, becomes known by his true name….That is the fairy tale of the Gospel with, of course, one crucial difference from all other fairy tales, which is that the claim made for it is that it is true, that it not only happened once upon a time but has kept on happening ever since and is happening still”(Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairy Tale).

Wimpy Faith

This is from Foxe’s Book of Martyrs:

“When sentence was read condemning [Mrs. Prest] to the flames, she lifted up her voice and praised God, adding, ‘This day have I found that which I have long sought.’ When they tempted her to recant, ‘That will I not (said she), God forbid that I should lose the life eternal, for this carnal and short life. I will never turn from my heavenly husband to my earthly husband; from the fellowship of angels to mortal children; and if my husband and children be faithful, then I am theirs. God is my father, God is my mother, God is my sister, my brother, my kinsman; God is my friend, most faithful.'”

I read something like that and my faith feels kinda wimpy. I don’t face anywhere near that kind of persecution. Compared to most believers around the world, my life is easy. Yet I can complain with the best of them.

I do believe there is a supernatural grace given to those undergoing extreme persecution. There’s an endowed strength given to those who are about to lay down their lives for the sake of the gospel. But I also believe one of the reasons the early church was so true and faithful was because they were the outsiders and the marginalized. They were the ones cast out and trodden down.

I definitely am not praying for persecution to come to America, but I think it’s inevitable. Persecution is the norm. America is the exception. Maybe that’s why we so often have such a watered-down gospel and diluted faith.

I recommend Foxe’s Book of Martyrs (preferably one with updated language). It’s hard to read sometimes, but also can be very encouraging to see those who endured torture and death because they like Jesus saw the joy that was laid out in front of them. May we be as faithful.

Known by the Scars

I have a few scars. One is on my left hand, a reminder from when I was in a wreck back in the day. I pulled out in front of a full-sized truck, thinking it was a four-way stop. It was not.

Thankfully, I ended up being okay aside from a deep cut on my hand from the dashboard and being generally stiff and sore the next day from the impact. My scar is a reminder of how God saved me from my own foolishness that day.

I remember that Jesus also has scars. His resurrected and glorified body still had the nail piercings on His hands and feet, as well as the wound in His side. Those were the proofs that it was really and truly Jesus raised from the dead.

But also it’s a way of giving value to all those who have scars of their own. Some are more obvious than others. Some are hidden, but some are in places where we can’t hide them. Some of us are ashamed or embarrassed by our scars.

But scars tell a story where you survived. Scars are the reminder of something that could have killed you but didn’t. Scars are proof of a divine intervention. In a way, when you can wear your scars proudly, you identify with Jesus and His own scars.

Most of all, your scars should remind you that Jesus bore the wounds that gave Him the scars for you and for me. He was wounded for our transgressions, as it says in Isaiah 53. By His stripes, we are healed. He bore what we should have born because of our sins, and we get the rewards of a perfect life that should only belong to Jesus. That’s the great exchange. That’s the gospel.

Scars can be something to hide, like those humiliating moments or shameful parts of the past, or they can be part of your testimony. A pastor once said that true healing is evident when that part of your story that you swore you’d never tell anybody becomes the first line of your testimony.

“Do you know what St. Peter says to everyone who tries to get into heaven?” 

“Peter says, ‘Don’t you have any scars?’ And when most would respond proudly, ‘Well, no, no I don’t,’ Peter says, ‘Why not? Was there nothing worth fighting for?” (Matthew Perry, Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing).

The Great Paradox

“The great paradox of life is that those who lose their lives will gain them. This paradox becomes visible in very ordinary situations. If we cling to our friends, we may lose them, but when we are nonpossessive in our relationships, we will make many friends. When fame is what we seek and desire, it often vanishes as soon as we acquire it, but when we have no need to be known, we might be remembered long after our deaths. When we want to be in the center, we easily end up on the margins, but when we are free enough to be wherever we must be, we find ourselves often in the center.

Giving away our lives for others is the greatest of all human arts. This will gain us our lives” (Henri Nouwen).

“If you refuse to take up your cross and follow Me on the narrow road, then you are not worthy of Me. To find your life, you must lose your life—and whoever loses his life for My sake will find it” (Matthew 10:38-39, The Voice).

That’s the paradox. You find your life by losing it. You gain love by giving it away. People notice you when you deflect the praise to the King of the universe instead of yourself. You’re blessed when you’re poor in spirit, meek, mourning, and pure in heart.

Instead of following the world’s path to success, Jesus went down the road of downward mobility. He gave up clinging to His rights of equality with God. He took on human form. He took the form of a servant. He was obedient to the point of death. His death was that of a common criminal’s crucifixion. Then God gave Him a name that is above every other name.

That’s our goal. To be unknown on earth but famous in heaven. Heavenly fame looks like faithfulness. Heavenly fame looks like denying yourself, taking up your cross daily, and following Jesus, no matter the cost.

That’s where you find your life. That’s where you find life.