Lessons from the Book of Judges

My church is currently going through a sermon series on the book of Judges. It’s not the kind of book when you want to feel good about yourself or the people of God. It’s a book where God’s people failed miserably and repeatedly, continuing a vicious cycle that involved them being hounded by a foreign people, crying out to God for deliverance, and God sending a judge to do just that.

I realized something today. In the book of Joshua, God commanded the people of Israel to utterly annihilate the enemies in the land they were claiming. At first, all went well, but further in, they fall into idolatry and are no longer able to drive out all the peoples in the lands they are taking.

These people are the very ones whose idols will enslave the people of God. These are the very ones whom Israel will serve as a result of that idolatry. Disobedience and sin always have consequences.

I also see that God never spurns the cry of His people. At some point, He probably would have been justified in bailing on them. After all, they did turn their backs on Him and run after other gods. They even forgot what He had done to bring them into this Promised Land.

God is faithful to His promises even when we’re not. God’s faithfulness often makes up for our lack of it. I’m thankful that God’s mercy isn’t dependent on my spiritual fervor or His grace dependent on my obedience.

All those judges that brought deliverance were pointing toward a coming Deliverer who would deliver His people once and for all. My pastor pointed out that while people may recoil from all the violence and bloodshed in the Old Testament, there is just as much of that in the New Testament. It was all directed at one man– the promised Messiah and Deliverer Jesus– who endured a very violent death on the cross for us.

That still doesn’t make for an easy read of Judges. I’m glad to be past it and into the book of 1 Samuel.

 

Resurrecting Hope

“Easter was when Hope in person surprised the whole world by coming forward from the future into the present” (N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope).

That was the topic of today’s sermon at The Church at Avenue South– that after being crucified and buried, Jesus actually and physically rose from the grave.

The Apostle Paul says that if Jesus didn’t rise from the grave, then our faith is useless and futile and we are all still dead in our sins.

If there is no resurrection, then Jesus’ death was meaningless and He wasn’t who He claimed to be, but just another in a long line of those so-called “Messiahs” whose words were forgotten and whose followers immediately abandoned them after death to look for the newest “Messiah.”

But Jesus stepped out of the tomb on Easter Sunday morning, forever proving that He is the ultimate God-Man, Savior of the world, the true Messiah.

Our hope is in more than a great teacher who gave us some great ideals to live by before he died. It’s in more than Jesus being “resurrected” by keeping His memory alive in the hearts of His disciples.

Our hope is in the Jesus who made the ultimate sacrifice on our behalf and died on the cross, then bodily rose from the grave and appeared to the apostles as well as over 500 other witnesses.

Because Jesus lives, our hope is alive. Because He lives, we live and can face any tomorrow that comes. Because He lives, we know that there is nothing that comes up against us– illness, death, or the grave– that can separate us from the love He has for us.

“We could cope—the world could cope—with a Jesus who ultimately remains a wonderful idea inside his disciples’ minds and hearts. The world cannot cope with a Jesus who comes out of the tomb, who inaugurates God’s new creation right in the middle of the old one” (N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope).

 

Hey, They Can’t All Be Winners, Right?

This is what you get when yours truly (me) decides to wait until 12:58 am to write one of these blog posts. Not much.

I had a rather good day, starting off with the first church service for The Church at Avenue South to start off 2017. Then me and a friend headed over to Nissan Stadium to witness the Tennessee Titans pull out a win in their last game of the season.

I had dinner at Local Taco with my amazing new life group. The dinner was great, too. Food always tastes better with good company and good conversation.

At the moment, I’m typing these words while lying in bed with the usual sleepy geriatric feline on the pillow next to mine. I should note that she took it upon herself to start sleeping next to me. I never once prodded or prompted her to sleep there.

That’s all I know at the moment. Plus, I’m thinking of calling it a night myself. Hopefully, I can be a little more disciplined tomorrow (or later on today) and write this thing earlier so it will have actual content in it.

Good night to all my faithful readers– and to those who accidentally wandered onto this post. May your 2017 be better and brighter than ever.

 

Praying Over the World

Sitting on the front row at The Church at Avenue South, I had a thought totally unrelated to the sermon from Genesis 45. Yes, I paid attention to the message about Joseph and his brothers and the need for reconciliation and forgiveness.

I was thinking about my friend, John Paul, lying in the ICU in Memphis. I may not be able to go to him in person, but I believe strongly that when I am interceding that I am just as present in that room.

It’s a mind-blowing concept that you can reach places through prayer that you’ve never seen with your own two eyes and you can connect with fellow believers that you might never meet in person on this side of heaven.

It’s feasible to me that when we do arrive in heaven, our impact will have been greater than we ever could have imagined. All those nights spent on our knees interceding for those missionaries halfway across the world will not have been in vain.

I truly believe that those we prayed for will have felt the presence of our prayers in those overwhelming moments. Maybe they will sense that we were with them in spirit, if not in the flesh, to agree with them in prayer.

I don’t make any claims to infallibility and I may be speculating more than just a little bit here, but I do believe that we may never physically get to all the places where the unreached people groups live, but we can go in spirit through prayer and intercession.

We can be near those who are hurting and dying through the gift of intercessory prayer, just as surely as the God to whom we pray is there.

Most importantly, the God who heals and answers prayer is there. The Holy Spirit who is interceding for both the one who prays and the one who is prayed for is there. Jesus, who ever lives to intercede for us before God in heaven, is there.

That’s what really matters.

 

Regret

Since this morning’s sermon at The Church at Avenue South from Aaron Bryant, I’ve been thinking about the story of Joseph in the Old Testament a lot today. More specifically, my thoughts have been centered on Joseph’s brothers.

I’ve always wondered why it was that when his brothers came to Egypt to buy food during the famine that Joseph recognized them but none of them knew who he was.

I realize that he was probably dressed in Egyptian garb and would  have had his hair and beard styled in the Egyptian fashions of that time.

I wonder if one of the reasons he was able to spot them was that they were still stuck in that moment when they made the horrible decision to sell him into slavery over 13 years ago.

Some of you reading this are still stuck in the past. You’re frozen in time in the moment when a relative hurt you or a friend betrayed you or a spouse deserted you. You haven’t been able to move past that moment in time.

Joseph had moved on, both literally and figuratively. By the time his brothers showed up, he had been though slavery, false accusations, imprisonment, and later exaltation. He had seen how God was with him through it all.

He was able to see at the end how God used what his brothers had meant for evil and turned it into something good. In fact, God used what was done to Joseph to set up the salvation of an entire nation in the making.

You come to the place where you release the hurt and pain done to you when you realize how God has redeemed it. When you’re able to forgive those who wounded you, you open the door to the prison and find out that it’s you that you’re setting free.

God still works all things together for good– even the bad and hard things– and that includes your story. That doesn’t excuse what people have done to you and it doesn’t lessen the pain, but it does mean that your wounds and scars are not the end of the story. God has a way of redeeming and restoring what was taken from you and giving you something so much better in return.

 

 

Thinking About Joseph

My church, The Church at Avenue South, started a new series on the character Joseph from the book of Genesis (along with all the other campuses of Brentwood Baptist Church).

It’s a very familiar story that I’ve heard literally all my life, yet there are new lessons I can learn from the story about how God redeemed one man’s misfortune to bless and save an entire nation.

Joseph didn’t start out so well. He had dreams about being in power over his father and brothers. His decision to tell his father and brothers about these particular dreams was not a wise one. He choose rather poorly.

Can anyone else relate? I know I can. There have been seasons in my life where I’ve been poor decision-prone and where I kept sticking my foot in my mouth in conversations.

The good news is that God is for all the Josephs of the world, even during those seasons of poor decision making. There’s not a mistake or even a fiasco that God can’t redeem and turn into good in the grander scheme of His unfolding story.

Like I said before, God took every negative from Joseph’s life and used it toward His purpose of saving a family and a nation through which would later come a Savior who would save people from every ethnic group and nation.

Did that excuse Joseph’s initial arrogance? No. Will it excuse mine? No. Will it defeat God’s purposes for me and for the world around me in which I live, work, and play? No.

I am never given an excuse for disobedience, but at the same time, God can take my bad decisions and weave even those into His overall redemptive plan. While my sin will still have consequences, it doesn’t have to mean the end of my story or God’s plans for me.

God is stronger than my weaknesses and my fears. I don’t have to be perfect to be useable. I just have to be available and willing.

 

 

Another Saturday in August

I’m going on record to officially state that I am over summer. I don’t mind heat as much as I mind the humidity that seems to never go away. Lately, even the rain doesn’t help much but only serves to make things even muggier.

I still managed to hit up all my favorite Franklin places on this wet evening. As it turns out, wearing sandals was not the wisest decision I’ve ever made in my life. My feet ended up getting a bit wet due to the constant rain that fell during my whole time in Franklin.

I still managed to spend some quality time in my favorite church, St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. I’m up to 20 minutes of silence with no interruptions by phones or tablets or anything else electronic. When you’ve grown accustomed to constant stimulation by social media, 20 minutes of nothing can seem like a really long time.

I still think that if I win the lottery or come into an unexpected windfall, I am moving to one of the houses on Fair Street. The whole street is like something out of a fairy tale or a George MacDonald fantasy novel. I’m not picky. I’ll take just about any of the houses there.

I almost forgot to mention that today was Serving Saturday for The Church at Avenue South. I’m not a gardener and I do not have a green thumb by any stretch of the imagination, but I got in some yard/landscaping work in, trying to unravel a tangled vine growing on one of the walls in the Room in the Inn courtyard. That was sweaty work.

My geriatric cat is on the pillow next to me as I type all this. She was snoring softly a little while ago but something woke her up for a bit (and she had that annoyed look before she went back to sleep).

I’m not too far behind her. I think I’ll send myself off to sleep with a little Gordon Lightfoot. See you all tomorrow night.

 

Who Holds the Day

“Our circumstances are not defined by what the day holds but by Who holds the day” (Aaron Bryant, Campus Pastor of The Church at Avenue South).

You and I both know what the day holds. There are already not enough hours in the day to get it all done. Some of you are already hyperventilating at the mere thought of the overwhelming list of tasks that await you when you get to work on Monday.

I have a new mantra based on a sermon I heard this morning at The Church at Avenue South. Our circumstances aren’t defined by what the day holds but by Who holds the day.

God is more than enough to handle what your day brings. He is more than enough to calm your fears and carry you through your stressful day. He is more than enough to make up for your woeful inadequacy to face what’s coming.

The One who holds the day holds every single day of your life in His capable hands. He’s the one who knows when a sparrow lands. He’s the one who knows the number of hairs on your head. He’s the one who clothes the lilies of the field and feeds the lowliest of those sparrows. He will take care of you.

I’m still not a fan of Mondays. I’m thankful they don’t come more than once every seven days. I seriously don’t think I could handle more than one Monday a week.

I’m even more thankful that the Lord of the Sabbath is Lord of the Mondays, too. He’s just as able to save and deliver you on Monday as He is on Sunday (and on every other day of the week as well).

Once more. Your circumstances are not defined by what the day holds but by Who holds the day. You will be just fine.

 

I Just Can’t People Today

So, the low-grade fever is back. I still feel blah (but nowhere near death’s door). I still managed to get in all my Wednesday activities (before I was aware of The Return of the Fever).

I participated in the Summer Singles Series at The Church at Avenue South. Afterward, some of us went out to eat at Las Palmas. It wasn’t the best meal I’ve ever had, but that really wasn’t the point. It was being around people.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t people very well today. I’ve been in brain fuzz mode all day long. My mental capacity is about at the level of “Fire bad. Tree pretty” (those who know what TV show I’m referencing are awesome).

I spent most of my mental energy keeping my eyes open. I felt like that pug in the videos who is fighting vainly to stay awake in the middle of the day. It’s the pug life, fo’ reals, y’all.

Anyway, some days it’s okay not to be the most social person in the world. Sometimes it’s okay to be alone with your thoughts. Introversion (or just slightly less extreme extroversion) is not a sin. Some of the best minds have been introverts. Especially when they could keep their eyes open.

As I mentioned previously, if this is as bad as I’m going to feel, I’m okay. I can still function (just not without the aid of much, much coffee) and I can still fulfill all my adult obligations.

The key, as always, is to be thankful for being alive and still in mostly good health. The rest is still gravy.

 

A Little Glen Frey for the Night Ride Home

Note: I inadvertently took the night off from blogging last night after getting home a bit late. I supposed I was more tired than I had originally though.

My Wednesday adventure started off after work with dinner at The Smiling Elephant. For those not from Nashville or not familiar with this place, it is an amazingly fantastic Thai restaurant a little over a mile down the road from my church, The Church at Avenue South.

I had some Pad Kra Pao on a dare (to myself). It was super spicy. I was quoting Paris Hilton non-stop– “That’s hot.” It’s probably the hottest, spiciest thing I’ve eaten on purpose (not counting that wasabi that I thought was guacamole).

From there, I went to Ave South for a Summer Series Bible Study, led by my friend Parker Bradley on 1 Timothy 3. It could have been very dry and academic, but he did a great job of making it interesting and relevant.

After, some of us headed over to The Sutler, where I had maybe the best dessert known to man. I don’t remember the name, but I remember that it had chocolate and peanut brittle and about 50,000 calories. It was Christmas and Easter combined and made edible. It was that good.

On the way home, I had the music of one Mr. Glenn Frey to keep me company. It was one of the rare moments when the music matched my mood and perfectly fit the nighttime setting.

More people are familiar with his work with the Eagles, but not as many know about his solo projects. He was as good a musician, singer, and songwriter as just about anyone in the business. He was the real deal.

I got home and had some quality therapy time with one very sleepy and very geriatric cat (you probably know her as Lucy the Wonder Cat a.k.a. Lucy Furr).

It was one of those days filled with a multitude of small blessings and graces that I hope I’ll always remember for as long as I live.