RESPONDING TO THE

EXTRAVAGANT HEART OF GOD

RESPONDING TO THE

EXTRAVAGANT HEART OF GOD

MAXIE D. DUNNAM

Abingdon Press

Nashville

IRRESISTIBLE INVITATION

RESPONDING TO THE EXTRAVAGANT HEART OF GOD

Copyright 2008 by Abingdon Press

All rights reserved.

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Original art, cover, and page designs by joey McNair.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publicalion Data

Dunnam, Maxie D.

Irresistible invitation : responding to the extravagant heart of God / by Maxie Dunnam.

p. cm.

ISBN 978-0-687-64879-5 (binding: adhesive, perfect: alk. paper)

1. Christian life. 2. Spirituality. I. Title.

BV4501.3.D855 2008

248.4'876-dc22

2008003863

ISBN: 978-0-68764-879-5

Excerpt from 'The Dry Salvages" in FOUR QUARTETS, copyright 1941 by T. S. Eliot and renewed 1969 by Esme Valerie Eliot, reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company.

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, NEW INTERNATIONA!. VERSION®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. All rights reserved throughout the world. Used by permission of International Bible Society.

Scripture verses marked NRSV are from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible, copyright 1989, Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture verses marked TNIV are taken from the Holy Bible, TODAYS NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. Copyright © 2001, 2005 International Bible Society. All rights reserved throughout the world. Used by permission of (he International Bible Society.

Scripture quotations marked NKJV are taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture verses marked NEB are from The New English Bible, © The Delegates of the Oxford University Press and The Syndics of the Cambridge University Press 1961, 1970. Reprinted by permission.

Scripture quotations from The Message Copyright © by Eugene H. Peterson 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Scripture quotations marked NLT are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.

The New Testament in Modern English, rev. ed., trans. J. B. Phillips. Copyright © J. B. Phillips, 1958, 1959, 1960, 1972. The Macmillan Company.

The Bible: James Moffatl Translation, copyright © 1922, 1924, 1925, 1926, 1935, HarperCollins San Francisco, copyright © 1950, 1952, 1953, 1954 James A. R. Moffatt.

08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

INTRODUCTION

WEEK ONE: COMING HOME TO GOD

Day 1: Incandescent Amazement

Day 2: God's Creation Is Good

Day 3: A Gracious God

Day 4: The Picture of God

Day 5: Coming Home

Day 6: A Roadmap for the Journey

Day 7: Taking It All In

WEEK TWO: A LOVE LIKE NO OTHER

Day 8: The Hint Half Guessed

Day 9: Why We Still Preach the Cross

Day 10: He Comes as He Came

Day 11: A Love Like No Other

Day 12: The Stone Was Rolled Away

Day 13: The Gospel by Which We Are Saved

Day 14: To Live in Joy

WEEK THREE: ALIVE IN CHRIST

Day 15: The Essence of the Gospel

Day 16: Alive in Christ

Day 17: Constantly Abiding

Day 18: Humble and Available

Day 19: The Shaping Power of the Indwelling Christ

Day 20: What Christ Has Been and Done for Us

Day 21: Dying and Rising with Christ

WEEK FOUR: FIT FOR KINGDOM LIVING

Day 22: Christ Frees Us and Fits Us

Day 23: Claiming the Promise

Day 24: The Surest Path of All

Day 25: The Hands and Feet of Jesus

Day 26: Communion Through Conversation

Day 27: Planted by the Water

Day 28: Choosing to Be Whole

WEEK FIVE: THE HOME OF GRACE

Day 29: The Dwelling Place of Wonder

Day 30: The Body of Christ

Day 31: What Defines Christian Community?

Day 32: The People of God

Day 33: Essential Characteristics

Day 34: The Priesthood of All Believers

Day 35: A Church Shaped by the Great Commission

WEEK SIX: PARTNERS IN THE GOSPEL

Day 36: Privileged Partakers in the Promise

Day 37: Prayers

Day 38: Presence

Day 39: Gifts

Day 40: Service

Day 41: Epilogue

ACCEPTING JESUS

OTHER WORKS BY MAXIE DUNNAM

SOURCES

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

No book is a private enterprise. More often than not, a number of people have made very important contributions to the process. Since this book reflects a gleaning of much of my writing and preaching, I am indebted to countless people who have contributed to my life and ministry through the years. I am who I am because of the people who have loved me, believed in me, and who have been mentors even unawares. I thank you.

More specifically, this book is the product of the thinking and praying of a number of people. I am especially indebted to an editorial team that conceived the project: Fiona Soltes, Andrew B. Miller, Mark Jacobs, Nancy Wise, and the leadership at the United Methodist Publishing House. This book is the outcome of our conferencing and praying.

Fiona Soltes, a talented writer with a special anointing from God, has helped bring this project to fruition, along with the help and guidance of Andrew B. Miller and his staff at Providence House Publishers: Kelly Bainbridge, Darlene Chaney, Holly Jones, Melissa Istre, LeAnna Massingille, Joey McNair, Maren Minton, Lane Rosencrans, and Nancy Wise. Their writing, editing, advising, guiding, and questioning were indispensable. In fact, without their work, this book would not be. My deepest gratitude to them.

My daughter, Kim Reisman, challenged me and kept me centered. Thanks!

As with everything I have done, my wife, Jerry, has been my chief encourager. She knows I am "cutting back" when I work fifty rather than sixty hours a week. To have that kind of understanding gives me the freedom I need to be creative and productive. If I knew a better word, I would use it; I don't. So, Jerry . . . thanks.

INTRODUCTION

It is with great boldness that I have written this book. The title is as bold as it gets—Irresistible Invitation. Your immediate thought might be, How can an invitation be irresistible"? I am free to respond however I choose to any invitation that I receive. I wrestled with the same feelings as our team of editors pondered the possibility of this title. Then I went to the dictionary and found this definition: "Irresistible: impossible to successfully resist." That definition erased all my reservations. Of course we are free; we can resist. But we can't "successfully" resist God's incredible grace.

It is mind-boggling, really . . . that God would desire a loving relationship with me. As staggering as the thought is, as unbelievable as it appears on the surface, this is the very heart of the gospel: I am loved by God. There is a place in God's heart that only I can fill. Denying this truth is a great sin of disbelief. The Bible, when we read it extensively, makes it unmistakably clear. God loves each one of us as though we are the only person in the world to love. It's in the book!

Don't you remember? Jesus said that not even a sparrow falls to the ground without the Father taking note of him. And you, he said, are of more value than a sparrow. Jesus went even further than that; he said the very hairs on our heads are numbered. Each of us is a unique, unrepeatable miracle of God. So, we are not just saved from our sins but to a personal, intimate relationship with God.

This book is about God's irresistible invitation to enter into relationship with him. It is about grace—God acting in our lives to accomplish, with our willing response and participation, what we cannot accomplish on our own.

In writing this book, I have gone back through what I have preached and written during my many years of ministry and have provided the information and guidance you need for the journey. There is a sense in which this is the best I have offered, and the very best I can offer today.

After each day's reading, you will have the opportunity for reflection, guided by questions that get to "the heart of the matter." Please spend prayerful time responding to those questions.

Community, where conversation and communion take place, is essential for Christian living. My hope is that you will share with others on this journey and meet weekly to encourage and challenge each other as "one heart sets another heart on fire."

I remember the words from Walker Percy's novel, The Second Coming. "If the good news is true, why is no one pleased to hear it?" I believe the good news is true, and I believe people are pleased to hear it when it is proclaimed in its radical essence: the incredible possibility of living a life in Christ, shaped by his indwelling Spirit and expressive of his presence in the world. So I invite you on a forty-day journey of considering the irresistible invitation and responding to the extravagant heart of God.

DAY 1: INCANDESCENT AMAZEMENT

DAY 2: GOD'S CREATION Is GOOD

DAY 3: A GRACIOUS GOD

DAY 4: THE PICTURE OF GOD

DAY 5: COMING HOME

DAY 6: A ROADMAP FOR THE JOURNEY

DAY 7: TAKING IT ALL IN

INCANDESCENT AMAZEMENT

Day 1

In the beginning

God created the heavens and the earth.

Gen. 1:1

The singer Mary Martin used to say that her grandmother, who lived to be ninety-nine years old, spent her life in a state of "incandescent amazement."Isn't that a marvelous term? It's what I feel when I ponder God's eternal nature, and when I read that first line of the Bible: "In the beginning God . . . "

Few phrases have stimulated the mind and imagination as much as this opening verse. Numerous poets have tried to find words for the day that Shelley describes as "when God first dawned on chaos." Philosophers have written volumes reflecting on its wisdom. Scientists continue to debate aspects of its truth. And theologians—that's us, when we think and talk about God—find in these words both the beginning of God's story and our own story. We begin here as we explore our relationship to God, what the Christian faith is all about, and how we live out that faith day in and day out.

When asked in 1989 what book most influenced her during the past year, author Madeleine L'Engle responded:

There is no question that the book that has been most influential for me this past year is the Bible's first one: Genesis. . . . The marvelous story of the creation is for me filled with incredible joy . . . the words shouting all things into being in a great cry of joy. Genesis is also filled with marvelous people—flawed and human—and underlines for me that God does not choose "qualified" people to do the work of love. . . . Genesis has everything—all the human vices and glories, love and hate, murder, sacrifice, and a great story. There is no end to plumbing its depths.

She's right. There is no end to plumbing its depths. In the first eleven chapters of Genesis, you have God's version of the human story and also our version of God's story.

You may wonder why I refer to only the first eleven chapters. As you read the book of Genesis, you will find there is a distinct, though unannounced, change of tone that begins at Chapter 11. It is there that the story of Abraham and his descendants begins. William M. Logan reminds us:

From that point on, the record has a more concrete sound. It moves more slowly and gives more details. It does not cover a thousand years in a single breath. It slows down to a pace with which we can keep up as it traces the life story of men and a nation. In contrast, the first eleven chapters of Genesis are epic in their scope. Their sweep is tremendous. Incomprehensible periods of time are covered in a few words. Stupendous events are described with brevity and matter of factness of a child's fairy story.

This is history, not in the sense of the chronological recording of people and events, but rather the nature of humanity and our spiritual journey. These chapters explain history not in terms of what, when, and how things happened, but why. Here's more from William Logan:

The stories are told in such manner that when I read them, I realize that I'm not reading an account of history; I'm looking in a mirror! This is not Adam I'm reading about; this is myself. This is not a tower built long ago in a faraway country: this is my own society in action, and I am part and parcel of that society.

GOD IS ETERNAL

Perhaps you've heard a child ask—because just about every child asks at some time or another—"Who made God?" The answer is, "No one." God has always been, God is and will always be. God existed before the world and before human history, and God will exist after the world and human history are dissolved.

Someone once asked Martin Luther what God was doing before the world was made. The old reformer replied, "Cutting switches with which to flog those who ask foolish questions!" Foolish or not, this question certainly makes us think. God is eternal, and when we begin to understand that, our relationship to God comes into clearer view.

There is something more we need to rest on: in the beginning, God created. Listen to the second verse: "Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters" (Gen. 1:2).

The world in all its complexity did

not come into existence by chance;

the odds are too great for that.

It's interesting to note that the Hebrew word used here for created is one that is used only in reference to God in the Bible. The truth is, the word implies work that is utterly beyond human imitation or comprehension. The world in all its complexity did not come into existence by chance; the odds are too great for that.

Someone has said that if you put ten pennies minted in consecutive years into your pocket, the odds of taking them out in order are one in ten billion. Can you imagine—those being the odds—that this universe, of which we are a part, could have just happened by chance?

William Herbert Carruth describes his sense of incandescent amazement at God's creation in his poem "Each in His Own Tongue":

A fire-mist and a planet,

A crystal and a cell,

A jelly-fish and a saurian,

And caves where cave-men dwell;

Then a sense of law and beauty

And a face turned from the clod—

Some call it Evolution,

And others call it God.

As we begin our forty-day journey together, I invite you to ponder these foundational concepts that speak to the heart of our Christian faith: in the beginning, God created everything that exists. God is bigger than any concept we can hold in our minds, yet God in his infinite love desires a personal relationship with us. The chaos that we sometimes feel overwhelmed by is actually an illusion; God's reality is law, beauty, and order breathed into creation in divine wisdom.

As we go about the details of living our lives, it's easy for us to lose sight of the big picture. When we're running through our days on autopilot, we can miss those moments of incandescent amazement when God reveals something beautiful to us. But if we are willing to listen, we soon realize that God is calling us to slow down and pay attention to these moments of wonder.

We might hear truth in a song lyric, glimpse the divine in a flowing stream, or see the face of God in the eyes of a child. If we tune in to God and open ourselves to seeing the creation with fresh eyes, we'll begin to experience more and more moments of incandescent amazement.

At this point, you might have more questions about God than you have answers. You may even doubt God's great compassion, or God's willingness to be intricately involved in your life. That's okay; you're far from the first person to feel this way. But if you'll agree with me right now that God could literally change your life through this study—that you'll allow God to teach you new things and reveal himself in new ways—there's no telling what could happen next.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- What do you feel when you reflect on the first few lines of Genesis? How does this feeling color your perception of God?

- How could a deeper understanding of the creation story affect your relationship with God? Does this story challenge any of your previous assumptions?

- Have you experienced moments of incandescent amazement? If so, how have those experiences informed your understanding of God?

GOD'S CREATION Is GOOD

Day 2

God saw all that he had made,

and it was very good.

Gen. 1:31

Yesterday, we centered our thinking on incandescent amazement. God calls creation out of chaos—and rejoices. Now let's take it a step further."And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness" (Gen. 1:3).

The writer of these first chapters of Genesis doesn't describe a God who looks down on creation as an engineer, scientist, or technician who has created a model that is flowing off some production line. No, the God of creation is an artist, painter, and sculptor—and the creation is his masterpiece.

Note that after each dimension of the creation, there is the phrase, "And it was good." We need to hang on to that phrase, because our temptation is to see the world and all that is in it as evil. When the darkness of our circumstances makes life seem dark, we grow frightened and sometimes faithless. We find it difficult to believe that God is near, and fear that God has forgotten us. We long for the light in the midst of our darkness.

Have you ever read John Keats' poem, "Ode to a Nightingale"? In the poem, Keats expresses a longing to escape from his pain-filled life and join the pleasant-sounding nightingale, which lives apart from the trials of human beings. He asks for a cup of poison to drink, and says:

That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,

And with thee fade away into the forest dim:

Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget

What thou among the leaves hast never known,

The weariness, the fever, and the fret

Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;

Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey hairs,

Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;

Where but to think is to be full of sorrow

And leaden-eyed despairs;

Where beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,

Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.

Keats had felt the emptiness, darkness, and hopelessness of life. We all feel this way from time to time: the darkness of our particular circumstances makes us believe that all of life is dark, and so we become frightened and faithless.

What we need to know, however, is that God owns the darkness as well as the light, and that God is present in the night as well as in the day. There's a marvelous verse in the book of Isaiah which says, "I am the LORD, and there is no other. I form the light and create darkness" (Isa. 45:6-7). Isaiah knew—because he believed the creation story—that the entire universe belonged to God. No aspect of human experience is without God's presence. The psalmist knew it too, so he could sing:

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. . . .

If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me

and the light become night around me,"

even the darkness will not be dark to you;

the night will shine like the day,

for darkness is as light to you. (Ps. 139:8, 11-12)

Not only does God bring deliverance from darkness; sometimes God reveals himself most vividly in the darkness. We may not understand it or be able to explain it, but we can know full well that God is in the midst of everything.

We may not understand it,

but we can know full well that

God is in the midst of everything.

Of course, the providential care of God does not protect us from the bumps and bruises of life, nor from the struggle—and sometimes tragedy—of living. Brothers betray brothers. Husbands desert wives. Good people lose their jobs. Teenage girls get pregnant. Teenage boys use drugs. The young die too early. The old live against their will through feeding tubes and breathing machines. Hurricanes devastate cities. Tornadoes destroy trailer parks and rivers flood towns. An earthquake in the middle of the ocean causes a tsunami a thousand miles away.

As such, it may not always seem apparent that every part of God's creation is good. But we can be confident that God is always working out his magnificent plan of redemption.

We have to be honest here and say that sometimes people— the height of God's creation—don't act according to the image in which they were created. But what a wonderful surprise when they do. We finish today's study with a beautiful example of God's creation reflecting his glory—and his great compassion.

Some time ago, the Associated Press carried the story of Manuel Garcia. Garcia was a poor man who suffered from cancer, and he needed to be treated with chemotherapy. He had always been proud of his full head of hair, but now he had to surrender to its loss.

When the time came for Garcia to leave the hospital and return home, he felt embarrassed by his baldness. As he entered his house, his five-year-old son came running to him. The little boy threw his arms around his father and shouted, "Daddy, I love you!" Garcia was surprised when he realized that his son was completely bald; he had shaved off his hair so he could look like his father.

Then, in a few minutes, the doorbell rang. Garcia opened the door to find some fifty neighbors and friends standing on his front lawn. They had all shaved their heads in a sign of solidarity and support. What a picture of God! God may not save us from our troubles, but he will save us in them. God's creation may sometimes seem dark and evil, but in the full picture, the long view, it will prove to be good.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- Have you been aware of God's presence in a time of darkness and suffering? Describe your personal experience.

- Have there been times of hardship in your life that, looking back, you are able to recognize as forming your character for the better? Are you aware of a purpose in those times of struggle?

- Have you given or received a show of love like the one described in the story of Manuel Garcia? If so, how did that experience affect you?

A GRACIOUS GOD

Day 3

/ have come that they may have life,

and have it to the full.

John 10:10

We've all been there: uncertain, unqualified— even, at times, unfit. It doesn't matter our position, our calling, or our training; sooner or later, we all experience that sinking feeling that we're absolutely, completely in over our heads.

I've been known to feel that way during the seemingly simplest of tasks: heading to the grocery store to pick up one or two items for my wife. Let's just say that the grocery is not exactly familiar (or comfortable) territory for me, and I get there only when a state of near-emergency is declared at home.

But there have been other times far more serious. I remember, in particular, when I was called to join the staff of The Upper Room, charged with directing a ministry, calling people to a life of prayer, providing direction and resources for growth in that area, and giving structure to a united expression of prayer by people around the world. Feeling very much the novice, I recall telling Dr. Wilson Weldon, then the editor of The Upper Room, that the search committee—and the church as a whole—must be in desperate straits to consider me for the job, I was such a novice in the area of prayer life and its development.

Looking back, though, I have to admit something: God met me there in a profound way. The responsibility forced me to be even more deliberate and disciplined in my own life of prayer. But it also introduced me to a wider dimension of spirituality than I had ever known.

I became intensely interested in the great devotional classics. The Upper Room had published a collection of little booklets—selections from some of the greatest spiritual teachers of the ages, whose names I barely knew and to whose writings I was a stranger: Julian of Norwich, William Law, Francois Fenelon, Francis of Assisi, Evelyn Underhill, Brother Lawrence, and an array of others. I began a deliberate practice of "keeping company with the saints," seeking to immerse myself in their writings which have endured through the centuries.

I have continued this practice for more than thirty years now. As I have kept company with the saints, I have observed some characteristics they have in common:

- They passionately sought the Lord.

- They discovered a gracious God.

- They took Scripture seriously.

- They experienced a living Jesus.

- They practiced discipline, at the heart of which was prayer.

- They were convinced that obedience was essential to their life and growth.

- They didn't seek ecstasy, but surrender of their will to the Lord.

- They were thirsty for holiness.

- They lived not for themselves, but for God and for others.

- They knew joy and peace transcending all circumstances.

The first two lessons are connected. The saints passionately sought and discovered a gracious God. That is what this forty-day study is about . . . the irresistible invitation that flows from God's extravagant love.

THE GOD OF ALL COMFORT

In the Bible, Paul opens his second letter to the Corinthian church by offering the grace and peace of "God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ" (2 Cor. 1:2). He continues:

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. (2 Cor. 1:3-4)

Paul crowns his greeting to the believers in Corinth with this illuminating, encouraging, and challenging word. He emphasizes the primary nature of God in order to keep the truth of God's compassion alive before the people: "the God of all comfort" comforts us.

James Atkinson shares this thought from the great reformer Martin Luther in his Daily Readings series:

All the many countless blessings which God gives us here on earth are merely those gifts which last for a time. But his grace and loving regard are the inheritance which endures throughout eternity. . . . In giving us such gifts here on earth he is giving us only those things that are his own, but in his grace and love toward us he gives us his very self. In receiving his gifts we touch but his hand; but in his gracious regard we receive his heart, his spirit, his mind, his will.

What does it mean that God gives us his very self? That's really what this study is about. God so graciously offers us not just divine assistance, but also infinite wisdom, love, guidance, and purpose.

During this journey—especially in the first couple of weeks—we'll have the chance to immerse ourselves in the goodness and generosity of God and the expression of his extravagant love in Jesus Christ. The hope of it all is that Jesus, who is our Savior, will truly become our Lord, and that we will understand what it means to live our lives in response and witness to the grace that has been given freely to us.

God loves us enough to allow us

to walk into new life one step

at a time, always by our side.

We have to remember, however, that immersion takes both time and effort. It flies in the face of the instantaneous world in which we live. Just as God has done throughout the ages, he invites us to "Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps. 46:10). When we are willing to do that, we find the depths of all God is.

Yes, God is gracious enough to give us new hope and new life, but the idea that all we have to do is turn toward God and everything will be just fine points to the fallacy of the "instant-fix" mindset. The reality is that God loves us enough to allow us to walk into new life one step at a time, always by our side. It is in that daily seeking, trusting, and growing that we become the people God meant for us to be all along.

CAN WE REALLY BE GOOD?

From the dawn of time, we human beings have been both attracted to and repelled by the idea of being "good." We lift people up as heroes and saviors, yet relish the moment when they are exposed as having feet of clay. We spend countless dollars on books, videos, programs, and workshops, hoping that they will help us be all that we can be. Yet we deliberately sabotage those very efforts with bad habits that have infiltrated our daily living. We want to be good, but we aren't always able. We don't completely like being bad, but we sometimes don't mind it. As Paul expressed, there seems to be a battle going on within us between our desire to follow goodness and the allure of evil that surrounds us.

It is a universal issue, but there is good news that goes along with it. God's infinite mercy includes the gift of power over sin. We can start with the very word "virtue," which comes from the Greek word arete, meaning "power." This is a major hint in answering the question of whether goodness is possible. God not only gives us tools in virtues like wisdom, courage, justice, and temperance, but God gives us power to walk in them, as well. The virtues are the evidence of God's love, of God's grace.

Thomas Aquinas was one of the great champions of cultivating the virtues in our moral life. He described them as a source of power in developing our character. But he also considered the virtues to be habits. Like all habits, good and bad, they are developed through repetition and exercise, formed in the laboratory of daily life by the countless choices we make in each moment.

It is only through the power of God's grace in the virtues, and our own disciplined exercise of them, that we are able to strengthen our character and move toward the good person God created us to be. Like Aquinas, then, we can believe that living a life of moral virtue is possible, though not without God's help.

Now CHOOSE LIFE

We must understand that our individual relationship with God is all about choice. The choice is not whether we will become a new person or not—that is a matter of grace. Christ alone holds the power to make us a new creation. Our choice is whether we will choose to start to become a new person. Do you see the difference? We do not choose to become a new person; we choose to start to becomes, new person.

A theme which echoes through the Old Testament is, "I have set before you life and death . . . now choose life" (Deut. 30:19). Here life and death don't signify existence and nonexistence; rather, they hold a promise that existence can be enriched and thereby become real life. You can choose either a dead life or a real life—one that is lived in confidence, hope, and gratitude made possible through the miraculous working of God's Spirit.

John's Gospel explains that Jesus came to abolish death and to open the possibility of abundant life to all people.Death in this context speaks of a weakness or a nulling of the life experience rather than actually ceasing to exist. Life, on the other hand, suggests a higher state of existence. This higher state, this aliveness, is available only through God. Remember Paul's word to the Ephesians: "But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved" (Eph. 2:4-5).

Living in a joy and peace that transcends all circumstances requires the same habits today as always: prayer, discipline, surrender, a thirst for holiness, and the knowledge that Jesus is alive in our experience. Just like Martin Luther and the saints of the ages, we can also know God's presence in our time of need and God's grace in our time of challenge. It's all there for the choosing, offered to us with extravagant love.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- Think about your habits, good and bad. How have they shaped your life as a whole?

- Have you chosen to "start to become" a new person? Why or why not?

- What does it mean to you to choose to be in relationship with God? Do you make it a habit to seek God's company each day?

THE PICTURE OF GOD

Day 4

Every good and perfect gift is from above,

coming down from the Father. . . .

James 1:17

A divinity student was having a difficult time describing his relationship with God, so his counselor asked the young man to draw a picture to illustrate God. The student said he couldn't draw very well, so he would take it home and bring it back when the class met again the following week.

It happened to be around Christmastime, and when the seminary student returned, he brought an artist's drawing of a scene from Charles Dickens' story A Christmas Carol. In the picture, the angry, demanding Ebenezer Scrooge sat behind his desk with pen in hand, his debit-credit ledger before him. In front of Scrooge, standing in terror, was his clerk, Bob Cratchit. Pointing to Scrooge, the young man said, "That's God." Pointing to Cratchit, he said, "That's me."

Here was a young man getting As in theology, describing God as a skinflint Scrooge and himself as a cowering Cratchit in God's presence. But let's not be too hard on the young man. In all of us, there is probably some difference in the way we talk about God, in our mental and philosophical concepts of God, and how we feel deep down about God. Another way to say it is that the God of our minds may not be the same as the God of our feelings.

The verse from James which began today's reading, in other translations says "every endowment and every perfect gift," or "every generous act of giving" comes from the Father. The ultimate example of God's extravagant love is the gift of his son, Jesus. During this study we'll focus on Jesus, as he provides the perfect picture of God.

James gives us another interesting image of God:

Don't be deceived, my dear brothers. Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of all he created. (James 1:16-18)

These words of James say two things about the nature of God. First, God is defined as "the Father of lights." This is a reminder that God is the Creator of the universe. Second, the text declares that with God is no variation or "change." The Moffatt translation says that there is "no shadow of turning with God." This teaches us that God is eternally faithful. Turning is what casts shadows; it is because the Earth is turning that the sun goes down, and shadows of the evening are spread out. But with God there is no shadow of turning.

Now I want to put these truths about the nature of God together and out of them sound three affirmations. One, God never lets us down; two, God never lets us off; and three, God never lets us go.

GOD NEVER LETS US DOWN

God is the Father, James says, and the love of God the Father never lets us down. Listen to Jesus as the authorized spokesman of God, and look at what Jesus did as the life of God, and you can't deny that instead of letting folks down, Jesus was always lifting people up.

There may be times when it seems that God lets us down. We pray for a healing, and it doesn't come. We pray for a job, and it goes to the other candidate. We ask to be delivered from some crippling circumstance, but nothing seems to change. We seek a detour around the road with a cross at the end of it, but find all of the roads are closed. Sometimes it does seem as if God lets us down. It even seemed so to his own son, once. "My God, my God," he cried from the cross, "why hast thou forsaken me?" (Matt. 27:46 KJV).

Though God never promised

to save anybody from trouble, he

does promise to save us in trouble.

Isn't it true that the reason we think God lets us down is actually our own self-centeredness? We put ourselves at the center of the universe and expect God to regard us as such, to make it his chief business to look after us. We consider God our personal nursemaid, if you will, who has nothing else to do but to watch our interests and save us from trouble.Whenever we mash our finger or have a flat tire, the cry goes up that God has let us down.

That is to misunderstand God. God never promised to save anybody from trouble, not even his own son. We are not the center of the universe. God is the center. His eternal purpose, not our personal pleasure, is the big thing.

Though God never promised to save anybody from trouble, he does promise to save us in trouble. God never allows temptation, trial, or suffering to come upon us for which he does not provide a way of escape or strength to withstand. That is a promise you can count on, and it will not let you down.

Toyohiko Kagawa was a great Christian activist and social reformer in Japan in the early twentieth century. When he was threatened with blindness and lay for months in the dark with a terrible pain in his eyes, doctors told him his health and sight were gone. He responded:

As I lay forsaken in this dark room, God still gives light. At the center of things there is a heart. On yonder side of darkness there is light. To me all things are vocal. Oh, wonder words of love! God in every inanimate thing speaks to me! Thus, even in the darkness, I feel no sense of loneliness. . . . In the darkness I meet God face to face . . . I am being born of God . . . I am constantly praising God for the joy of the moments lived with Him.

What an amazing witness to God's everlasting faithfulness. Kagawa was able to testify to the truth: God never lets us down.

GOD NEVER LETS US OFF

Just as God never lets us down, He never lets us off. I like the way John Redhead expresses it:

The love of God is not soft like a jellyfish. It has backbone. It is built on certain standards, and when those standards are not met, the penalty falls heavy and sure. God is a Father whose love never lets us down. The God who never lets us down is also the God of moral holiness.

James called God the "Father of Lights." Light suggests openness and judgment. Under God's light, everything is illumined. We can't be sentimental about it. God is not a soft, sentimental "yes" man, who winks at sin and says it doesn't matter. When you look at God through the person of Christ, you know that along with the tenderness of God comes also the terror of God. It is not that God finds any pleasure in punishing sin. It is just that there is something in God called holiness, and that holiness sets up a law which says that right is right and wrong is wrong, and wrong must be punished. Not even God can repeal that law.

Paul understood this divine law, as we read in his letter to the Galatians: "Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows" (6:7). Do you want to know what that means? Again, Redhead explains it so clearly:

It means that hangovers always come on the morning after. It means that the man who sows his wild oats will have his outcome tax to pay. It means that punishment is tied to sin like the burned spot to the blaze. It means that if a man eats salt herren, not even the grace of God can keep him from getting thirsty. It means that not even God can give a man a pass that will let him through the gates of sin without paying the price. It means that while God is always compassionate toward the sinner, He is never complacent about the sin. It means that while God is a Father whose love never lets us down, He is also a Father whose love can not let us off.

GOD NEVER LETS US GO

"God never lets us off" is a word of warning for people who would play fast and loose with sin, deluding themselves with the falsehood that they can get away with it. Know this: God is a Father whose love never lets us go. That is a word of hope for those who think they are past all hope.

Here is the greatest word that can be spoken about love: it keeps on loving in spite of everything. It takes no account of the wrongs done against it. No matter how often its offers are spurned, no matter how often its favors are refused, no matter how poignantly it is wounded, or how far away the loved one wanders, love always holds on, never gives up, never lets go.

When you look at God through Christ, this is the one thing you see standing out above all others. You remember when our Lord was criticized by self-righteous Pharisees for associating with people like the publicans and sinners, who were considered outcasts, he answered them by telling three little stories. A woman lost a piece of money—a poor woman who couldn't afford to lose even a penny—so she went through the house, moving the chairs and tables, taking out the rug and sweeping out every dark corner, looking for the coin. God is like that woman.

A shepherd had a hundred sheep, and when one strayed and was lost, the shepherd left the flock and went out on the mountains wild and high, seeking until he found it. God is like that shepherd.

A father had a son. The son showed himself ungrateful for his father's favor, turned his back on his father, went out to a far country and threw his life away. But that father always kept his candle burning in the window, and always kept watch, too. One day, there was a speck down the road. Gradually it got larger, came nearer. Down the stairs, through the open door, out through the gate—when he was yet a great way off, his father ran to meet him, embraced and kissed him. God, says Jesus, is like that father.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- If you were asked to draw a picture of God, what would it look like?

- Of the three affirmations you just read about—God never lets us down, God never lets us off, and God never lets us go—which one challenges you the most? Why?

- Think of a time in your life when you experienced a consequence of sin. How did that affect your relationship to God?

COMING HOME

Day 5

Do not be afraid, little flock,

for your Father has been pleased

to give you the kingdom.

Luke 12:32

Have you ever heard the one about the unhappy nun? No, it's not a joke. It's a story I read some time ago, and if you're already wondering what it could possibly have to do with your life, I hope you'll let me explain.

This nun had been raised in a very strict Catholic home. She had attended a parochial school, and all during those formative years of her life, she was terrified of the all-seeing eye of God. Her parents and her teachers had taught her that God was watching her all of the time. Unfortunately, they used the concept to frighten her into good behavior and to make sure she never got out of line. As a result, by the time she was an adult, she was a very fearful, intimidated person.

One day she was talking with another nun, a beautiful, happy person who had not grown up in a negative environment at all. She told this nun about her story and about how frightened she was of that eye of God that was watching her all of the time. But the other nun's sensitive and wise response was this: "Oh, my sister, you've got it wrong. God does see you all of the time, but do you know why? It is because he just can't take his eyes off of you!"

How clearly this nun understood the gospel. How sad that so many of us relate more to the first nun than the second, holding tight to a harmful and punitive understanding of God. We may not be conscious of it, but we often picture God as a judge, policeman, or prosecuting attorney. Admittedly, there are Scripture passages that suggest such an understanding. But the dominant witness of the Bible says something else: God is good, caring for people as a father or mother, offering grace, forgiveness, love, acceptance, and even new life with a generosity that can sometimes be hard to comprehend.

Again, that's exactly what this book is about—God's extravagant love. God's generous nature is not just a bigpicture theory; it can be relevant and empowering every day of our lives, allowing us not only to give more of ourselves, but also to receive all that God has for us.

For some, this is a challenging concept. Like that nun, we may believe instead that God is out to get us. With that, we choose not to accept God's forgiveness, and find it terribly difficult, even next to impossible, to forgive ourselves for our failings, too. As a result, we spend endless days wandering, thinking there must be more, that we somehow could—or should—be better husbands or wives or sons or daughters or church members or friends or employees or Christians, but not having any idea about how to make it happen.

It can be a devastatingly painful life when we can't forgive ourselves for something we have done or something that has happened to us. Worse yet, it can keep us so focused on ourselves that we miss the ways God wants to use us in the lives of those around us. If we don't fully understand God's goodness, we'll be hard-pressed to pass it on to anyone else. Our Christian walk will be, at best, a hobbling one.

NO LIMITS

It is true that sometimes goodness can be produced by less than righteous folk, even evil persons. We can, however, expect limitless goodness from God. We talk a lot about the mystery of evil; what about the mystery of goodness? We receive daily gifts of God's grace, poured out freely without regard for our merit. God still makes the sun shine on the evil and the good, and the rain fall on the just and the unjust. But even more mysterious is God's Spirit at work bringing good out of the actions of weak, fallible, and sinful human beings. Joseph recognized that mystery when he confronted his brothers, who had sold him into slavery in Egypt. Joseph said, "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives" (Gen. 50:20).

These days, though, acts of kindness, mercy, and generosity rarely become news. We live in a time when newspaper headlines and television news shows are dominated by stories about deceit, selfishness, immorality, corruption, catastrophe, murder, rape, drunkenness, hatred, and suspicion. Through some perverted sense of the dramatic, it is assumed that evil alone is news. This point of view warps our judgment and leads us to the pessimistic view that there is little good left in the world, and that few people have the capacity for goodness. To be sure, if we know our own hearts, we cannot deny the existence of evil, but we also cannot deny the presence of goodness.

Both are illustrated in the often-told story of the prodigal son, found in Luke 15. It's a familiar tale, and may even resemble our own. The son ran away from home, only to squander his wealth. Yet no matter how far that son wandered, God was in that far country, too, continuing to extend his hand no matter how evil the son had become. How do we know? First, the prodigal realized that he was in need. God's grace awakens us to our need, and that awakening is the first step toward our repentance and recovery. Second, the prodigal found a way to survive until he could decide what to do next: "So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs" (v. 15). No work could have been more loathsome to a jew, but this young man wanted to live. God gives us the will to live. But still the prodigal's situation was desperate."He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything" (v. 16). So finally, when the prodigal fully realized where he was and what he had become, "he came to his senses"—and that was a supreme act of God's grace.

When we come to our senses, we face the life and death decision of, "What shall I do now?" The prodigal remembered his father and his father's house, so that's where he went. . . back home.

There has been debate about whether this son was truly penitent. Was he still motivated by self-interest, combined with the memory of where he could get three square meals a day? He probably didn't know himself. Can any of us be absolutely certain about our motives? Most sins provide some attraction or satisfaction, or we wouldn't indulge in them. To focus on our sins and to search our souls trying to convince ourselves that we are truly sorry for every moment of sinfulness, however, is not helpful. The important thing is to turn away from sin and to turn toward Jesus. The word convert means literally "to turn around." The important thing here is that this young man turned around, left the far country, and returned to his father. There comes a time to leave the past behind.

DAD ON THE DOORSTEP

You may find yourself at such a crossroads, and you may wonder what the reaction of your "father" will be. In the case of the prodigal son, he had enough recognition of his wrongdoing to rehearse his speech of confession. But instead of building on this good work of reform already begun, the father completely ignored it. How consistent that is with the God of Paul's testimony in Romans: "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (5:8). Paul goes on to describe how that love works to lead us into new life. "For if, when we were God's enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!" (v. 10). The saving work begins when we return to the Father's house and are received with open arms.

In seeking to understand God's love, then, we must also understand that he wants to share that love with us. And we must be willing to turn around, wherever we are, and approach that doorstep of grace. David did so with an anguished cry for forgiveness in Psalm 51:

Have mercy on me, O God,

according to your unfailing love;

according to your great compassion

blot out my transgressions.

Wash away all my iniquity

and cleanse me from my sin.

For I know my transgressions,

and my sin is always before me. . . .

Create in me a pure heart, O God,

and renew a steadfast spirit within me.

Do not cast me from your presence

or take your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation

and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me. (w. 1-3, 10-12)

Do you feel the throbbing intensity of that prayer? There is nothing perfunctory about it. It is no surface recitation of some pious words. There are no pet phrases packaged mechanically together and tied with the dainty ribbon, "In Jesus' name, Amen." This is true prayer, the heart-cry of a broken man, one who knew his need for God.

Ancient editors say that Psalm 51 is David's plea after he had faced up to his blatant sin with Bathsheba. The prophet Nathan confronted David with his lust, adultery, intrigue, pretense, and shame. He reminded David of how he had schemed to get his trusted servant Uriah murdered. The king of Israel had deliberately broken five of the Ten Commandments.

At that point, David had no escape; the secret was out. Yet as we read the psalm, we feel that there was a kind of relief. The hidden thing had surfaced. The cancer that was eating David's soul away was now exposed and labeled for what it was. The need for subterfuge and deception was over.

Finally letting go, it seems, brings the relief of no longer having to hide and no longer having to lie. That's the meaning of confession: the end of pretension, the coming out of hiding.

Today, then, is a day for all of us to do the same. Finding the extravagant love of God—and stepping into the reality that yes, there really is more to life—begins with the simple choice to believe that God is for us and not against us. God's love is greater than we can imagine. It is greater than our sin. And his willingness to forgive is the open door to a new life.

Shall we approach the doorstep together?

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- When you hear the story of the prodigal son, found in Luke 15, how do you feel? Do you identify with the son, the father, or even the older brother who is challenged by the prodigal's return? How so?

- Are there any challenges in your life that might be hindering you from coming home to the open arms of the Father? If so, how do you think you can overcome them?

- Are you more likely to think of God as demanding and punitive, or loving and good? Why do you think that is? Give an example of a time you experienced the goodness of God.

A ROADMAP FOR THE JOURNEY

Day 6

Your word is a lamp to my feet

and a light for my path.

Ps. 119:105

For some, the Bible is an intimidating book. This view may stem from a misconception that the Scriptures are merely a rule book, a list of dos and don'ts, or a collection of stories about people who lived so long ago that nothing from their lives could actually speak to us today.

Nothing could be further from the truth. The Bible is considered living and active because it is the inspired Word of God, and since God is the same yesterday, today, and forever, the same can be said for the wisdom, promises, and guidance that God has so graciously offered through his Word. When considering the goodness and love of God, then, we can choose to view the Bible as simply one more way that God demonstrates his divine love. God has provided us, in essence, an ever-relevant guidebook for the Christian walk.

The beauty of the Bible is that it is a down-to-earth book written out of human experience. It is an account of people who came to know God and were known by God; who came to know others and to be known by others. It's a story about people who learned how to live a life of relationships, then shared their experience with others. The psalmist, for example, reached into the depths of his soul, pulled out his most intimate feelings, and laid them out for us to know and share. He spoke out of the gut-level of his experience. The fact that God knew him made him quiver!

"O LORD, you have searched me and you know me," he said in the first verse of Psalm 139. That's a frightening thought, that we are known by God. It's unnerving to sense that God knows everything about us, including our desires, our innermost feelings, our fears, our shortcomings, all of it. It can be equally as scary to be truly known by fellow humans. So we play hide-and-go-seek in our relationships, stretching our imaginations for fresh ways to remain hidden.

The Bible, however, has a way of exposing our hearts, all so we can overcome our fears and get beyond our selfcentered discomforts.

SEEKING VS. TRUSTING

I remember an especially dry time a while back. Outwardly things were going well. All my children seemed to be at a good place in their lives. My wife and I were in excellent health and were enjoying each other and our stage in life. Asbury Theological Seminary, where I was serving as president, was thriving. We had our largest enrollment ever. The spiritual vitality of the students was inspiring. Our trustees had made the decision to establish an extension campus in Florida. I should have been "on top;" but not so.

I came dragging to my morning time of Scripture and devotional reading and prayer. I felt like the psalmist: "My soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water" (Ps. 63:1). I could have prayed with the psalmist:

Why, O LORD, do you stand far off? (Ps. 10:1)

How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever?

. . . Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death. (Ps. 13:1-3)

My eyes fail,

looking for my God. (Ps. 69:3)

Concentrating during my time of devotion and prayer was difficult. I would realize that I had a read a passage of Scripture and not know what I had read. Or my mind would leap about as I sought to pray for a person or about a particular issue. But then I came across a passage from Julian of Norwich's Showings:

And this vision taught me to understand that the soul's constant search pleases God greatly. For it cannot do more than seek, suffer and trust. And this is accomplished in every soul, to whom it is given by the Holy Spirit. And illumination by finding is of the Spirit's special grace, when it is his will. Seeking with faith, hope and love pleases our Lord, and finding pleases the soul and fills it full of joy. And so I was taught to understand that seeking is as good as contemplating, during the time that he wishes to permit the soul to be in labour. It is God's will that we seek on until we see him, for it is through this that he will show himself to us, of his special grace, when it is his will.

The passage reminded me that I had been seeking the Lord, but I did not trust him completely. Over a period of about three weeks I worked on my trust. I went back to my initial Christian commitment when I accepted Christ as my Savior and was baptized. I rehearsed some of those trying, testing, and troubling times when I had trusted the Lord and was delivered. And gradually the confidence and the emotional experience of Christ's presence returned.

Part of understanding the Bible for the gift that it is, then, involves reading it with trust and faith, believing that it can— and will—change our lives. Every time we read it, it offers a revelation and an encounter with the living God. There are many gods, but in the Bible we encounter the living God: the God of creation (Gen. 1); the God of covenant (Gen. 12:1-7); the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (Exod. 3:1-6); the God of deliverance (Exod. 9:1-7); the God of compassion who binds us in love (Hos. 11:1-4); the God of justice and mercy (Mic. 6:6-8); the God of pursuing love who seeks us in love even to his own death in Jesus on the cross.

In our own lives, we serve many gods: wealth, materialism, money, greed. But the Bible says, "What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?" (Mark 8:36).

We worship the god of sex and pleasure, but the Bible says, "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body" (1 Cor. 6:19-20).

We are tempted to serve the god of power, prestige, and worldly influence. However, the Bible says, "But many who are first will be last, and the last first" (Mark 10:31).

Some even serve the god of narrow, selfish nationalism, but the Bible says that God "made every nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live" (Acts 17:26).

In addition to offering revelation and a personal encounter with God, the Bible is an invitation to life. The Bible is gospel, literally translated "good news," and not just Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. The whole of it is gospel.

The great events of the Old Testament—creation, covenant, and exodus—all reflect the gospel. The movement of God is always a movement of love toward us, a love that knows no limits. The big story of the Bible is the story of God staying with us through his grace, wooing us, loving us, seeking to restore us to our created image and bring us back into fellowship. The last verse of Psalm 23 says it well: "Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever."

If we miss that invitation in the Old Testament, we can't miss it in the New. It is an engraved personal invitation, personally delivered by Jesus Christ. He pictured it for us in the series of parables we discussed yesterday: the lost coin, the lost sheep, and the lost son. You will find all of them in Luke 15, one of the most beloved chapters in the Bible. It has been called the "gospel in the gospel," because it contains the distilled essence of the good news Jesus came to share.

In addition to offering revelation

and a personal encounter with God,

the Bible is an invitation to life.

And when we read these stories, no matter how long ago they were actually penned, we can find direction and guidance for our everyday lives. A word of caution about guidance, however, and a reminder that guidance in the Christian life is a matter of grave concern and a place where discipline is sorely needed.

One of the most bizarre distortions of guidance was seen in Jim Jones and the Guyana tragedy. Hundreds of people died in a ceremonial suicide following the instruction of a man who claimed to be divinely led. There are many far less dramatic examples of the distortion of guidance. A student who has neglected her studies and comes to the final exam, praying for divine guidance. An athletic team prays for divine guidance to show them the way to victory. Persons who give little thought to how God would have them spend their money seek God's guidance in making money and accumulating wealth. You can add to the list good people seeking God's guidance for questionable enterprises and even bad people brashly seeking divine sanction and guidance for the unrighteous direction of their lives.

As a result, we must consider the issue of guidance carefully. But note two clear facts. One, Scripture not only promises guidance; it assumes the fact of guidance throughout its pages. And two, Jesus also promised guidance through the gift of the Spirit:

I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you. (John 16:12-15 NRSV)

God's wisdom and guidance, then, come to us in a variety of ways. There are those rare times when God speaks dramatically in a vision or a dream or even in an audible voice, as with Paul and Peter and others whose experiences are recorded in the book of Acts. Other times, our wisdom and guidance come through the still, small voice of God within us, as we allow the indwelling Christ to be vibrantly alive in us. That still, small voice can be heard by those who listen obediently, by those who want passionately to do God's will, and by those who are about the business of giving their lives over completely to the Lordship of Christ. And most certainly we receive wisdom and guidance through God's Word.

Since the beginning of time, God has spoken through prophets and poets and dreams and visions and angelic messengers. We have the record of that in the Scriptures. Then, too, God gave himself to us in Jesus Christ, and that story comes alive through the pages of our New Testament. So as we immerse ourselves in God's Word, we will hear the still, small voice as the Spirit causes that Word to energize all our thoughts and actions.

The central source of God's guidance is in the Scriptures. If God's wisdom and guidance are going to be ours in an ongoing way, if guidance is not to be a hit-or-miss, franticseeking of God's will in particular situations, then we must immerse ourselves in the Scriptures. When we are familiar with God's Word through daily reading, meditation, and study, we will seldom flounder for want of guidance.

Knowledge of Scripture gives us a poise and a confidence about the will and ways of God that enable us to respond with certainty to that inward nudging, those intimations and intuitions that we feel so deeply. The inward assurance that we need to act on that nudge and those intimations is often confirmed by the Word of God. And it is our personal fellowship with the Lord in prayer and through the study of God's Word that is the ongoing source of wisdom and guidance that James says can be ours by faith.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- How does the Bible fit into your walk with God?

- What stands in the way of you having a deeper understanding and appreciation of the Scriptures? How could that challenge be overcome?

- How do you think God could use the Bible to help guide, encourage, and esteem you?

TAKING IT ALL IN

Day 7

Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth. . . .

For the Lord is good and his love endures forever;

his faithfulness continues through all generations.

Ps. 100:1, 5

In receiving an award from the Religious Public Relations Council, newsman Bill Moyers said, "I've given up on the beat of politics . . . I've given up on the beat of international affairs because I want to cover this beat [the religious beat]. It is the biggest story of the millennium."

Moyers was talking about the spiritual quest of the American people. Then he addressed his colleagues in journalism with this challenge: "You must fasten on to what is the story of the twenty-first century, which is looking for a new human story, laced with God." In his closing remarks, Moyers said, "I sense such a deep and powerful stirring in the world that is religious in nature, exciting and hopeful. I'm hoping that my colleagues in journalism sense this and report on it, because it is the story of the next fifty years."

I like Moyers' line—"a new human story, laced with God."Not a bad vision.

Over the past few days, we've covered a lot of bases in terms of who God is—as opposed to who we think God is. It's an important work. It's not surprising that many Christians know who God is and what God is like; and yet, deep down, at the level of their emotions, there exists a very different feeling and picture of God. That deep-down feeling prevents us from experiencing lasting spiritual growth and victory in our lives.

Joseph Seka has written a helpful article, "Will the Real God Please Stand Up?" In that article, Seka lists some of the faulty concepts and feelings about God found among both Christians and non-Christians:

First, there is the legal god. This god keeps account of what we do and waits for us to step out of line. . . . Second, the "Gotcha god" resembles Sherlock Holmes. . . . Like a private investigator, he's always following and gathering evidence. Third, there is the Sitting Bull god. This god sits in the yoga position and expects burnt offerings Fourth, there is the philosopher god. . . . He is distant, cold, too-busy, and has a "Do not disturb" sign on his office. Last, there is the pharaoh god. . . . He is harsh and demanding, and says, "Make more bricks."

Not many of us would describe God in any of these ways, but isn't it true that at the feeling level, we have perceived God in at least some of these ways? We could imagine a God who keeps account of what we do; a God who expects us to try to please him all the time; a God who has a "Do not disturb" sign on his door; a God who is always demanding more than we can give.

The truth, however, is this: developing a healthy, authentic experience of God, harmonized in thought and feeling, is an ongoing growth process that comes with maturity in Christ. And that begins by recognizing God's goodness and love, and remembering that God really is for us and not against us.

This week, we've considered a few of the ways God has demonstrated his great love for us. But it is only a start. Creation itself provides a clue about how God relates to the world and what it means to us and our adoption.

Grace, which is the dynamic, radical love of God, is demonstrated in creation; in fact, creation is grace. To be sure, a lot of debate swirls around the notion of creation. But whether we follow a particular scientifically oriented concept of creation or give a literal interpretation to the creation story in Genesis, there remains a creative moment that is integral to the relationship between God and the world. The traditional belief that God created everything from nothing is very helpful because it describes the relationship between God and creation as one of sheer love.

After each act of creation in bringing the world into being, the Genesis writer says, "And God saw that it was good."When all was finished with the creation of Adam and Eve, the response is, "It was very good."

God, in utterly free love, created the world, and the climax of that creation was man and woman: "So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them" (Gen. 1:27). That means that you and I, because he created us, are walking, talking examples of his love here on earth. And that love can play out in the way we love ourselves, love others around us, and love God in return.

In coming days, we'll continue to consider the divine aspects of love and goodness and how they can affect us on a highly personal level. But before we get there, a review would be in order. The innate goodness of God must be an established fact in our hearts and minds before anything else will make sense.

Remember that you and I are not always good, but God is. Even though human goodness is sometimes produced by wrong motives, by less than righteous persons—even by evil people— we can, nevertheless, expect limitless goodness from God.

God offers us, as we have seen this week, the ability to run into his open arms and be forgiven; the chance to start over with new life; direction and guidance through his Word; the opportunity to communicate with him through prayer; and above all, his very self.

Have you made the choice to accept God's invitation to new life by acknowledging Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior? If you'd like to learn more about that, turn to page 304 now.

As you read through highlights from the lessons of each day, consider looking back at your answers to the Heart of the Matter questions, and prayerfully contemplating what the next steps of growth in each area might be. Prepare yourself for the weeks ahead, as well. Next we'll consider the incredible gift of the gospel, and how the reality of the life of Jesus can be an example for our own.

INCANDESCENT AMAZEMENT

The first day of our study started with the big picture: it invited us to focus on the amazing fact that God is the sovereign Creator of the universe; that God is bigger than any concept we can hold in our minds, yet in his infinite love desires a personal relationship with us; and that the chaos that we sometimes feel overwhelmed by is actually an illusion—God's reality is law, beauty, and order breathed into creation in divine wisdom. Infusing it all is the idea of "incandescent amazement," the wonder and awe of all that God is, all that God has done, and all that God is yet to do. We may begin with lots of doubt and questions, but if we will focus our thinking on the beautiful miracle of creation, we can begin a new conversation with our Creator.

GOD'S CREATION Is GOOD

We read about how the God of creation is an artist, painter, and sculptor—and the creation is his masterpiece. Sometimes we feel distant from God and doubt God's love for us because of challenging circumstances, yet God has promised to deliver us not from our troubles, but in them. God owns the darkness as well as the light, and God is present in the night as well as in the day. Although we want to walk in the light, sometimes God reveals himself most vividly in the midst of our darkness. Have you reflected on the presence of God in your struggles and challenges? Is God showing you places where you can open up to a new awareness of his love?

A GRACIOUS GOD

God gives us not only a listening ear and an understanding heart; God freely gives us his son, his very self. Yes, God loves us that much. We must understand, though, that our personal relationship with God is all about choice. The lives of the saints are an example of the habits of holiness that become embodied in our lives as virtues. If we will choose to make it a habit to seek the presence of God, we can know his grace in our times of challenge. Have you chosen him?

THE PICTURE OF GOD

We all carry images of God that may be distorted from the truth of who God really is. We may imagine God to be an angry judge or a referee keeping score of sins. But if we will look again at the witness of the saints and the words of the Bible, we'll discover a God of extravagant love and sheer joy who longs for communion with us. Jesus described God's deep love in the parables as a woman who swept her entire home just to find one lost coin, a shepherd who searched the hillsides to retrieve his lost sheep, or the father who received his prodigal son with open arms. Are you able to stretch your imagination to include this radical picture of God?

COMING HOME

Remember the story of the prodigal son as told in Luke 15. No matter how far the son had wandered and no matter how many sins he had committed, his father was waiting on the doorstep for his return. All wrongs were instantly forgiven. God offers the same grace to us. No matter who we are, no matter where we are, we can always come home to the idea that there is a loving Father ready to receive us. Are there any places to which you haven't yet "come home," or admitted your need for God's love, grace, and acceptance? If so, take a moment and bring them to God in prayer. He is ready and able to hear whatever you have to say.

A ROADMAP FOR THE JOURNEY

The Bible is so much more than a rule book. It is, instead, living and active, offering us relevant guidance for today. Remember that it is a down-to-earth telling of human experience, an account of people who came to know God and were known by God. As such, reading the Scriptures on a daily basis can help us know and be known, as well. The Bible offers us hope, wisdom, knowledge, promise, joy, direction, and more. All we have to do is open it up and believe that it was inspired by God, just for us. So how is that daily dose of Scriptures coming? Have you been able to develop a regular diet of the Word that can help you grow? If not, what's standing in your way, and what can be done to remove those obstacles?

DAY 8: THE HINT HALF GUESSED

DAY 9: WHY WE STILL PREACH THE CROSS

DAY 10: HE COMES AS HE CAME

DAY 1 1: A LOVE LIKE NO OTHER

DAY 12: THE STONE WAS ROLLED AWAY

DAY 13: THE GOSPEL BY WHICH WE ARE SAVED

DAY 14: To LIVE IN JOY

THE HINT HALF GUESSED

Day 8

No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only,

who is at the Father's side, has made him known.

John 1:18

Just as modern painting is defined by Picasso, and modern music by Stravinsky, modern poetry is most often associated with a brilliant master: T. S. Eliot. Born in St. Louis in 1888, he was raised by doting parents and four older sisters. Eliot was a precocious child who spent a year in a Massachusetts boarding school to polish his rough edges before going to Harvard to earn several degrees.

At Harvard, Eliot began writing poetry and was recognized early by the famous young poets of the day. He couldn't see how he could make a living writing poetry—and indeed he didn't, until he won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1948. His most famous and dramatic breakthrough as a poet of renown was "The Waste Land." Some critics and scholars consider it the most important English-language poem of the twentieth century. It is a commentary on modern civilization, the triumph of materialism, and a generation that had lost its soul.

Countless college undergraduates have quoted "The Waste Land" to give voice to their alienation, existentialism, and contempt for a society that seems bent on either getting rich or blowing itself up. T. S. Eliot's poetry expressed the despairing cynicism of a generation who had lost their way, their faith, and their hope.

Imagine the surprise of other poets who had championed his work, imagine the surprise of graduate students writing dissertations about the meaning of Eliot's poetry . . . imagine their surprise when he converted to Christianity!

This is one of our most distinctive

convictions as Christians: God became

flesh, the divine became human.

On the morning of June 29, 1927, having completed several months of instruction, T. S. Eliot was baptized in a small parish church in the Cotswolds. The next day, he was confirmed in the Christian faith by Bishop Thomas Banks Strong. For the rest of his life he remained a "high church" Anglican, attending morning mass nearly every day.

Had Eliot changed his mind about humanity, about the emptiness and soullessness of our times? No. He still despaired of human nature. He still agonized over his own sins. But he came to sense another presence—something sacred and holy, something occasionally breaking through into our realm of time and space, toil and trouble. God never overwhelmed him, never gave clear and unmistakable signs. It was just "hints and guesses" as Eliot says in "The Dry Salvages," a segment within Four Quartets:

Hints followed by guesses; and the rest

Is prayer, observance, discipline, thought and action.

The hint half guessed, the gift half understood, is Incarnation.

Don't you wish you had said that? I do! "The hint half guessed, the gift half understood, is Incarnation." This is one of our most distinctive convictions as Christians: God became flesh, the divine became human.

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

John expressed it, "And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth" (John 1:14 NRSV) . The Nicene Creed, in order to make clear the heart of our Christian doctrine, puts it this way:

We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,

the only Son of God,

eternally begotten of the Father,

God from God, Light from Light,

true God from true God,

begotten, not made,

of one Being with the Father;

through him all things were made.

For us and for our salvation

he came down from heaven,

was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the Virgin Mary. . . .

But what does it all mean? Incarnation. Eliot called it "the hint half guessed, the gift half understood."

I reached for the dictionary to look up the word hint. Had I been misusing the word? How was this world renowned poet using it? I found two definitions. The first: "An indirect suggestion or implication; subtle or covert illusion."The Incarnation—subtle? Like a sledgehammer, I thought. The second: "A slight indication or trace." The Incarnation—slight? Trace? Only if flesh and blood and bone—a full human being—is a slight trace of anything.

I was winning my argument with Eliot. How could he refer to the Incarnation as a hint? This is something so explicit that it is almost impossible to miss. Then I realized how foolish I was—how futile to ever argue. Eliot was a poet, and preachers are poets—that is, when we are at our best we are poets. Some of the most meaningful passages of Scripture are poetry. The message of God is spoken in parable, images, hyperbole. The language is often metaphorical and poetic, not scientific and rational. Listen to the psalmist: "I feel like an owl in the desert, like a lonely owl in a far-off wilderness" (102:6 NLT).Or this: "Let the floods clap their hands; let the hills sing together for joy at the presence of the LORD" (98:8-9 NRSV).

Listen to the prophet Jeremiah: "Oh that my head were a spring of water, and my eyes a fountain of tears, so that I might weep day and night for the slain of my poor people!" (Jer. 9:1 NRSV).

Listen to the words of Jesus from John's Gospel:

- "I am the good shepherd." (10:11)

- "I am the light of the world." (9:5)

- "I am the way, the truth, and the life." (14:6)

- "I am the gate." (10:7)

- "I am the bread of life." (6:35)

Listen to Peter: "Come to him, a living stone, though rejected by mortals yet chosen and precious in God's sight, and like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house . . . " (1 Pet. 2:4-5 NRSV).

Listen to the prophet Malachi's word about the coming Messiah: "But for you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings. You shall go out leaping like calves from the stall" (Mai. 4:2 NRSV).

And listen to Luke talk about the Messiah Christ who has come: "By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace" (Luke 1:78-79 NRSV).

Poetry, image, metaphor, parable. Eliot was in good company—in company with those who penned our treasury of Holy Scripture. So instead of examining the poet's words, I started meditating and reflecting. "The hint half guessed."Yes, that's the Incarnation in our experience. Not from God's side, but from ours. God was presenting himself as clearly as he could. But we do the guessing, don't we?

We're guessing at the meaning of this child, this man, this life, this death, these hints wrapped up in ancient stories replete with angels and shepherds and stables and rotten kings and disinterested bureaucrats. Think about it, in the way Methodist preacher Bob Olmstead reflected on it:

It is not the way of the sacred to overwhelm us with instant revelation; God gives only hints. And it is easy to miss the hints when we're in the midst of troubled marriages, financial hardships, and physical disease.

It is even easier to miss the hints when all is going well, when our tables groan with abundance and we have more wealth than our grandparents ever dreamed of. It is especially easy to miss the hints of divinity when we take realistic stock of our own shortcomings, our faults and failings, the urges and desires we admit to no one, and only occasionally to ourselves.

Incarnation, God coming to us in Jesus. It's a mystery, a "hint half guessed" by most of us, "the gift half understood."But it's still real and powerful. Even a half receiving of this gift offers more meaning than any other promise of fulfillment for our lives.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- Has God ever revealed himself to you through hints or guesses? How has your understanding been shaped by such revelations?

- What is your favorite verse of Scripture? How does it speak to you with poetry and images?

- How does Jesus' Incarnation offer hope and meaning for your life?

WHY WE STILL PREACH THE CROSS

Day 9

Jesus said, "Father, forgive them,

for they do not know what they are doing. "

Luke 23:34

Some years ago, when First United Methodist Church in Dallas erected a huge, crude wooden cross in front of their church for Lent, it was viewed as an eyesore. As the story goes, there was even a phone call emphatically asking the pastor, "Can't you do something with that dreadful cross?" The woman had apparently visited the Dallas Museum of Art across the street, and was bothered by the contrast between the loveliness of the culture in the museum and the ugliness in front of the church.

"Can't you do something about that dreadful cross?" It's a question that hits close to home, and has throughout the ages.What can—and what will—we do about that "dreadful" cross?

Even the great English poet John Milton, master of words, couldn't say. He wrote his ever-lovely "On the Morning of Christ's Nativity" in 1629, and hoped to offer a companion poem called "The Passion" a year later. But the challenge was too great; after toiling over some eight verses, he finally gave up. Completely unsatisfied—and feeling the subject was "above the years he had"—he left it unfinished. Milton had been able to write meaningfully and beautifully about Christ's birth, but when it came to his suffering and death, the language escaped him.

And what of us? Many of us are powerless to understand the cross, much less put it into words. We grasp for meaning, we hope for clarity, but like that Dallas church, we find ourselves confronted with the question: can't we do something with that dreadful cross? Is it enough for us to simply put it aside as Milton did, walking away with it unfinished?

Personally, I don't think so. And the reason is found in the words Jesus himself uttered while nailed there: "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing" (Luke 23:34). To be sure, those words from Jesus' last pulpit confront us with the sins in our own lives. Sin is the reason Jesus was there, and sin is the issue he was addressing in these words.

"Father, forgive them."

IMAGINE THE SCENE

Imagine the scene, if you will. The sentence had been passed. The soldiers had mocked Jesus with a crown of thorns and a purple robe. They saluted him with the taunt, "Hail, King of the Jews." They spat upon him and knelt down in mock homage. They led him through the gawking crowd and pressed Simon of Cyrene into bearing his cross up to the crest of Calvary, and there they crucified him.

What a mixture of emotion and response. Evil and good were doing battle. The holiness of God and the sinfulness of humankind were locked in struggle. Two robbers hung on either side of Jesus, so even in death, he was set amidst human need and sin in its most desperate expression.

The crowd continued to mock. They didn't understand what was going on. Though they taunted, "Let this Christ, this King of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe" (Mark 15:32). they were not earnestly grasping for faith. What mystery is here, yet what love! Rev.William Booth, General of the Salvation Army, said long ago, "It is because Jesus did not come down from the cross that we believe in him."

We must not position the cross of Christ back in the first century, nor see it as an isolated event on that skull-shaped hill. We must see it right among us, present now. The black sky brooding over Golgotha is arched above us, too. The tempest and the earthquake that terrified Jerusalem terrifies us also as we envision the cross of Christ, not as something far away, but as present now.

To be sure, it is certain that Jesus died only once: "And they crucified him" (Mark 15:24). It was a once-and-for-all death, in the year 30 AD, on Calvary's hill. Yet, it was for us that Jesus died.

The death of Jesus was an absolute necessity on God's part. Jesus was the incarnate love of God and had come to reveal the heart of God to us. Had he refused the cross, the love of God would have been limited.

No, it's not easy to talk theoretically about the profound truth of the cross, but it is essential. And it is equally essential that when we preach Jesus on the cross, we don't leave him there. The reality that Jesus died for us and yet, he lives, must be central to our Christian experience.

"I FEEL SO ASHAMED"

I remember picking up a copy of Henry C. Whitley's book Laughter in Heaven one early, snowed-in Saturday morning. I didn't know much about him, but discovered quickly that Whitley was a Scottish Presbyterian preacher and one-time minister of St. Giles Cathedral in Edinburgh; this was a kind of autobiography of his ministry. He got my attention in the introduction by recalling the most memorable sermon he had ever heard. It lasted just half a minute.

The man who preached it was an old minister, white-haired, bent, but with a voice which was still strong and warming, and he had a gentle, hurt face. The church was grim and dull and depressing, as was the "area" in which it stood, "one of the forgotten slums of Edenborough."

Whitley said that the preacher, at that time, was trying to run a boys' club in half a dozen rooms of condemned property nearby. He had gone to church that morning reluctantly; it was his opinion that the church was out of touch and woefully inadequate to the problems of suffering and despairing people with whom he worked.

The building was three-quarters empty, the congregation included a few men and the rest women and children. . . . The service had followed the normal pattern and everyone sat back waiting for the sermon. Wearily, the minister looked around his unencouraging congregation, and then in a voice half-broken with emotion, he declared: "I have no sermon this morning, nothing would come and I've been so busy with many things—I'm not sure what I believe, except that Jesus lives. Forgive me, I feel so ashamed." The tears were now trickling down his cheeks—struggling, he pronounced the blessing and left the pulpit.

Bless that old man! The truth is, he had nothing to be ashamed of. I've been there myself—though I have to admit I've never made that kind of confession in a sermon. But yes, I've been there, feeling that inadequacy and doubt, having questions, and knowing nothing more than the fact that Jesus lives.

The fact that Jesus died for us and yet still lives is the shaping dynamic of the Christian life. And we must never lose sight of it, no matter what happens.

The cross is not only a work of redemption for our sin, but it concerns our eternal salvation, as well. The rugged, dreadful wood is a reminder of what beauty lies in store. That's what Paul was saying to the Corinthians: "For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God" (1 Cor. 1:18). It is, in essence, extravagant love. Jesus' word from the cross, "Father, forgive them," confronts us with our sin, but it is far more. Jesus is God's witness in word and deed. In word: "Father, forgive them." In deed: dying on the cross for our salvation. As a result, we preach the cross because we want everyone to know that there is more love in God than sin in us. It is the very picture of justification by grace through faith.

NOT GUILTY

I remember going to court once with a young man. I was there to offer my personal and pastoral support. It was a trial before a judge, not before a jury. The prosecuting attorney and the defense attorney made their cases to the judge; they had already submitted written testimonies and other evidence to her. After the arguments, the judge invited the young man to stand before the bar of the court. Then she began to speak to him—it was a kind of lecture. The more she spoke, the more I thought to myself, This is it; he's going to end up in jail.

We preach the cross because we

want everyone to know that there

is more love in God than sin in us.

We were all surprised when the judge came to her conclusion: "This court finds you not guilty." I sighed deeply as I saw a look of tremendous release come over the young man's face. But then came the challenging word from the judge: "Young man, because the court finds you not guilty does not mean that you are innocent."

I knew, as did the young man, that there was not enough evidence in the court of law to convict him of what he was accused, but indeed, he was not innocent.

That's a hint, however faint, of the meaning of justification by grace through faith. We are all guilty. As the Scriptures remind us, we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Not even one of us is righteous—and how well we know that deep down, don't we? But God has shown and reaffirmed his great love for us by giving us Jesus Christ as a sacrifice, a substitute, a power over sin. His death on the cross was death on our behalf. When we receive his sacrificial love by faith, we are justified; that is, we are made right with God.

Justification is a metaphor from the law courts, so when we talk about salvation as justification, the imagery is that of being on trial before God. The Greek word translated "to justify" means not to change a person's nature, but to treat, reckon, or account someone in a certain way. This is the picture: when we appear before God, we are anything but innocent. We have sinned; we are estranged; we have broken the relationship; we are utterly guilty. Yet, God treats, reckons, and counts us as if we were innocent. That is what justification means.

In the Christian view of reality, we talk about justification by grace through faith. Through our faith in Jesus Christ, and what God has done for us in Jesus Christ, we are justified. It is all a matter of grace—God's grace—God's gift of love and full acceptance of us.

The cross is the ultimate expression of God's love. It is a vivid picture of God's nature. It became real to me in a poster that moved me to tears. The words on the poster were these: "Do you want to know how much God loves you?" Jesus answered, "This much!" The picture was Jesus, his arms outstretched and nailed to a cross. So, Jesus spreads out his arms on the cross and says to each one of us, "This is how much I love you."

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- Think of a time in your life when you were aware of being guilty of something. How did you deal with your feelings in those circumstances?

- Have you ever received the gift of forgiveness? Describe your experience.

- Are you holding on to feelings of guilt and sin in your relationship with God? If so, have you considered asking God to release you from that burden so you might fully embrace the extravagant love Jesus embodied on the cross?

HE COMES AS HE CAME

Day 10

Blessed is the king

who comes in the name of the Lord.

Luke 19:38

The New Yorker magazine once ran a cartoon depicting that dramatic story in the Old Testament when Moses parts the Red Sea and the Israelites pass through on dry land. To be a little more precise, the cartoon takes place at the point the water has been parted and the Israelites are moving swiftly through the passage. Moses is irritated because someone has obviously said something to him. He replies to the man next to him, "Of course it's damp underfoot, but that strikes me as a pretty petty complaint to be making at a time like this."

I don't know about you, but I can identify. I've found myself reluctant to get my feet wet when faith leads me on a new and untraveled road. Thank goodness Jesus didn't feel the same way.

Today, we're going to look at the journey Jesus took to Jerusalem; it's the part of the New Testament story that gives us Palm Sunday, and it has much to say to those of us who are on our own journeys of faith.

I'd like to look at that march, then, with the idea that Jesus still comes as he came. There are three scenes in this Palm Sunday story as Luke recorded it, scenes that depict the character of Jesus, how he came to the place of his destiny, and how he comes to the world today—and to us. Let's explore each one.

JESUS ON A DONKEY

Our first scene is the one normally associated with the day: Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey. Palm branches are waving, and people are shouting. The excitement is so great that people have literally taken off their outer garments and spread them in the road. This, after all, is the Messiah, the Promised One. The shout becomes an uproar: "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord" (Luke 19:38). The king is coming, and no one can miss him—partly because he is riding on a donkey.

To put things in context, we need to remember that, in those days, when a king went to war, he rode a horse. But when he came in peace, he rode a donkey. Zechariah, one of the Old Testament prophets, included this image in his understanding of the Messiah. "Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion! Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey" (Zech. 9:9). By appearing in Jerusalem on a donkey, Jesus presented new ideas about peace, power, and humility. Frankly, those are lessons that we still need to learn.

A colleague of mine, Dr. William Ritter, is one of the most creative preachers I know. One Palm Sunday, he preached a sermon called "Clubs are No Longer Trump." In it, he made the point that we all succumb to the notion that power is for using, and that some problems can be solved only by violence—whether it be the problem of an unwanted enemy at the border, an unwanted murderer on death row, or an unwanted child in the womb. We need to search our minds and hearts to see if we have not fallen victim to that illusion—that problems can be solved only by violence.

Jesus shows another way. It is a way of power, but not of violence. It is a way of peace that comes not by the sword, but rather by strength of will and a new set of weapons.

There is an old Chinese proverb that says: "If thine enemy offend thee, buy each of his children a drum." Commenting on that, Dr. Ritter said:

What it means, of course, is that truly creative individuals will find ways to deal with enemies that subdue without destruction. Jesus had some suggestions along these lines that were even more radical. Return blessings for curses, he suggested, invite persecutors over for supper. If an enemy forces you to carry a pack for a long distance, carry it twice as far, and see if you can't achieve some kind of reconciliation along the way. Put your ingenuity to work, says Jesus. Put your prayers to work. Put your consistent witness for truth to work. Put passive resistance to work. Put patience to work.

Do not be deceived—the Christian who follows Jesus does not go unarmed into the daily combats of ordinary life. The Christian merely has different weapons in his or her arsenal.

JESUS WEPT OVER THE CITY

Now, back to our Palm Sunday scene. In Luke 19:41-42, we learn that Jesus has come to Jerusalem.

As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it and said, "If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes."

Jesus still comes today as he came to Jerusalem: with compassion. He wept over the city. In the days ahead, we'll reflect on compassion from a number of different perspectives. Compassion is who Jesus is, as well as the dynamic he calls us to. But for now, register this truth: authentic love calls for compassion, and compassion is often painful, bringing us, with Jesus, to tears.

G. Campbell Morgan was a powerful man, and one of the great English preachers of another generation. As a young seminary student, he fell in love with a young woman, but he was reluctant to propose to her, explaining, "I think God has laid it on my heart to say some radical things to the church. I may not be a success; I may be persecuted. I don't want to drag you into that. In five or six years, perhaps I will be established, and then I can offer you my hand in marriage."

Her immediate reply was, "If I can't climb the mountain with you, I'd be ashamed to meet you at the top." What a picture of compassion! Compassion is love that is deep enough to "climb the mountain" with another.

If we are to follow Jesus, our love must be so deep that we are willing to climb the mountain, as well.

JESUS COMES IN JUDGMENT

Once Jesus arrived in the city, he headed for the temple. This is where we join him in Luke 19:45-46.

Then he entered the temple area and began driving out those who were selling. "It is written," he said to them, '"My house will be a house of prayer,' but you have made it a 'den of robbers.'"

Jesus, once again, comes to us as he came to Jerusalem: in judgment. Now, I realize that judgment is not a popular word. It doesn't feel good for some folks who, for at least half of a century, have been schooled in moral relativism and the notion that what is right and good can be settled by popular vote. This sort of mushy thinking is always coming to a head in some dramatic way.

It comes to a head in the devastation of children of separated parents because we have thought too selfishly about divorce. It comes to a head in millions of unwanted pregnancies, many of which have ended in abortions because we have had sex education without moral teaching. It comes to a head in crippling financial debts because we have succumbed to the greed of our flesh without practicing fiscal discipline.

If we are to follow Jesus, our

love must be so deep that we are

willing to climb the mountain.

These are the things you might expect me to discuss. But what about war? As I write this, the war in Iraq is tearing our nation apart. The conflict is not only destroying thousands of lives, it is costing billions of dollars that could be used for improving human lives in this country and around the world. Great pain and confusion accompany any consideration of it, and the question remains how judgment fits in.

These difficult issues cut to the core of our faith and sometimes reveal our morals in uncomfortable ways. Because our culture teaches that we should determine what is right and good by popular vote, we might feel challenged by the idea of the judgment of Jesus. But the church is not a democracy—it can never be subject to majority rule. The authority of the church comes not from the consent of the governed, but from Christ, its head, who rules through the Word of Scripture and the Holy Spirit.

Christ comes to us in the world today just as he came to Jerusalem: in judgment. So who can abide the day of his coming? Only those who are willing to lose their lives for his sake. Only those who will do "unto the least of these" because they do unto Christ. Only those who love their sisters and brothers as an expression of the loving God. Only those who move beyond saying, "Lord, Lord," to acting as the Lord would have them act.

I could go on and on, but you get the point. Christ has made the way clear, and we are to walk in it by faith. When we fail to take that seriously, we invite judgment.

Yes, Jesus comes as he came. First, on a donkey, in humility, showing us new peace and power; second, in compassion; and third, in judgment. There's a saying that you can't work for McDonald's and sell Wendy's burgers. Well, you can't! You can't go to the new Jerusalem with Jesus unless you go the way he goes, because he comes as he came.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- When you think of Jesus, how do you picture him coming to you? In compassion? In humility? In judgment? Why do you think that is?

- How might things have been different in Jerusalem had Jesus shown up on a horse, ready for battle, rather than a donkey?

- In what areas of your life do you live out Jesus' peace, compassion, or judgment? In what ways do you not?

A LOVE LIKE No OTHER

Day 11

For it is by grace you have been saved, through

faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God.

Eph. 2:8

A  recent classified ad read something like this:

LOST: ONE DOG. Brown hair with several mange spots. Right leg broken due to auto accident. Rear left hip hurt. Right eye missing. Left ear bitten off in a dog fight. Answers to the name "Lucky." Reward to finder.

Lucky? Of course! That was one lucky dog. Argue if you will, but he was fortunate because even with all those things wrong with him, somebody still wanted him and was willing to pay to get him back.

That is exactly the story of the gospel. Even with all of our sin and rebellion, God still loved us enough to pay the ultimate price to win us back to himself. God's merciful forgiveness is greater than our sin. And his love is more than we deserve.

As humans, we all hunger for love and acceptance. But please get this: God's unconditional love for us is the answer to that hunger. Most of our dysfunction and our failure in wholeness stems from a self-perception that we are unloved and unlovable. Another destructive self-perception is that we are responsible for the pain and suffering of others.

The reversal of this destructive self-perception requires something like a conversion. Others may help facilitate the process for us, but ultimately it's an inside job, something we must claim and experience. It's a choice: to receive the love of God which already has been given and begin the long process of coloring our whole life with that reality.

Do You KNOW W H O YOU ARE?

I personally believe that one of the greatest tragedies is to die without knowing who you are. Or, you can put it this way: one of the greatest tragedies is to live denying who you are.

Can you believe me when I tell you that you are more than you think you are? I can ask the question honestly because it took me a long time to believe it for myself. For a good part of my life, I spent a huge amount of energy trying to prove myself worthy of love and acceptance. My low estimate of myself set the agenda for my ceaseless efforts to be accepted.

The cross would have happened if

you were the only person in the world

who would receive grace.

Charles H. Cooley, an important modern social scientist who is considered the dean of American sociology, has something to say about that. Cooley developed the concept of the "looking-glass self," and if you've ever studied sociology, you've probably been introduced to this concept of human understanding. The theory he outlined in his seminal work, Human Nature and the Social Order, goes like this: our selfconcept is established by what we think the most important people in our life think of us. In other words, our entire selfimage is shaped by what we think the most important people in our life think of us.

Here is where Christians must center. Too often, we feel that God disapproves of us and thinks we are nothing. But that couldn't be further from the truth. Our Christian journey of faith must begin with the belief that God has accepted us unconditionally. There is nothing we can do to earn or prove our worth. Our value in God's sight has been affirmed once and for all by the gift of Jesus Christ in death on our behalf. We continue on our Christian journey as forgiven and affirmed people, as we allow our lives to be shaped by the indwelling Christ who keeps affirming us in our worth and impelling us to fullness of being, the fullness of God himself.

As Christians, the most important person in our lives is Jesus. Therefore, our self-concept can be established by what Jesus thinks of us.

So what does he think of you? Jesus loves you as though you are the only person in the world to love. He loves you so much that he died for you! The cross would have happened if you were the only person in the world who would receive grace—that's what Jesus thinks of you.

How HE CALLS US HIS OWN

For a long time I missed the power of Jesus' dual designation of God as "Abba! Father!" The meaning is not simply that when Jesus prayed, he addressed the One whom we call Father in a more intimate way as Abba; the meaning is that two distinct peoples, Jews and Gentiles, are joined in the acclamation of God as Father. God has liberated us, set us free from slavery, adopted us as his children, and rescued us from all bondage. Whether we have tried to control our lives through following religious law (Jew) or through divining the stars and the order of nature (Greek), the message of Paul and Jesus is the same: the Father loves us. We no longer need to struggle with life, trying to find a way to control our fear or ensure our survival. The Father loves us. He holds our lives even beyond death. We can trust him.

I remember an experience when the notion of adoption by God became powerfully real to me. My wife, Jerry, and I were flying to Japan from Korea. When we were boarding the plane in Seoul, there were three young American servicemen who had in their care six tiny babies. We learned that an adoption agency was giving these young men a free trip home and back so that they might deliver the babies to American families.

Jerry, who is forever a mother, decided those young men needed help. They did appear rather helpless! So she volunteered to take one of the babies onto the plane and care for her until we reached Tokyo.

As the plane was taking off, I looked down at the little baby in Jerry's arms and was overcome with sadness. I thought, She will never know her birth parents, will never know her homeland, perhaps will never visit here again, and will be forever separated from her birth family. Then I happened to look at the baby's arm and saw a little bracelet on it. I lifted the baby's hand and read the writing on it: "Mr. and Mrs. John Mabry," followed by an address in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

They have to be the adoptive parents to whom the baby is being delivered, I thought. My sadness was transformed into happiness, even joy. I knew that in Pittsburgh were a man and a woman who had such love that they were willing to take this child as their own. And I knew that, all things being equal, this little baby girl would have the love and security that a mother and a father want to provide their children. Although she would someday know the story of being adopted, long before that she would have experienced the love and care of her parents. She would know the deep meaning of having been deliberately chosen, deliberately loved.

Suddenly, the notion of God loving us enough to adopt us hit home. Adoption has to do with being secure in a relationship that is given to us. God is our Father—our Father who has adopted us, just as Mr. and Mrs. Mabry became the father and the mother of that little baby. God chooses us and claims us as his children.

To be sure, we must remember that the designation of God as Father has nothing to do with gender: God is not a sexual being. Rather, it describes a relationship of shared love and fellowship in which God pours out all his blessings on all his children. In the deepest and truest sense, we do not have to worry about our destiny or our survival by trying to divine or manipulate the elements of the universe. We have a Father who loves us and has taken us in as his own.

As our divine parent, God's love for us never ends. It is like a parent's love for a prodigal child. Even if we reject God, God will never reject us. The Old Testament prophet Hosea makes this case dramatically, as he reports God saying:

When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. But the more I called Israel, the further they went from me. They sacrificed to the Baals and they burned incense to images. It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, taking them by the arms; but they did not realize it was I who healed them. I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love; I lifted the yoke from their neck and bent down to feed them. (Hos. 11:1-4)

How much of the heartache and devastating guilt that cripples and debilitates people would be done away with if people would believe that God's love is deep enough and wide enough to forgive and to forgive to the utmost!

Because of God's great grace and kindness, however, we can be confident of this love. And isn't that our need, to be confident? The less secure we humans are, the more we rely on superficial props such as rank, title, degree, and recognition. The more insecure we are, the more we seek to prove ourselves. My own proving game once was, "See, I am worthy of your love and acceptance."

Eventually, God's love and acceptance became unquestionably real to me. It didn't come easily or quickly, or without struggle and pain. But it came. I embraced the acceptance and love of others, and when that happened, for the first time in my life, I could stand and face the world, eyeball to eyeball. I could face the ugly and the beautiful, the stranger and the friend, the domineering and the subservient. I could stand before God and everybody and say, "Here I am, Maxie Dunnam!" Not aggressively, yet without apology. Not proving myself, but simply being.

When we try to build ourselves up without God, to elbow our way to the top, to win by intimidation, to call attention to ourselves with trappings and pomp, betraying our glaring lack of both, we still do not trust. We are still not willing to risk and be vulnerable. Our lives are still being shaped by destructive don'ts.

When we come to understand that a divine yes has been spoken—that God has said yes to us, and loves, forgives, and accepts us—we truly can be confident without being arrogant. We can walk every day of our lives knowing that we have been adopted by the most gracious Father, who will continue leading us on to wholeness.

There is a popular motto that has been printed on bumper stickers and posters. It begs, "Be patient with me. God isn't finished with me yet." And here's another: "I am not what I ought to be, and I'm not what I'm going to be, but praise God, I am not what I used to be." God simply loves us too much to leave us alone.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- Is it difficult for you to believe that God loves you unconditionally? Why or why not?

- How has your relationship with your earthly father colored your perception of God as a heavenly Father?

- Are there any areas in your life in which you lack confidence? Why do you think that is, and how do you think God can help?

THE STONE WAS ROLLED AWAY

Day 12

They found the stone rolled away

from the tomb, but when they entered,

they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus.

Luke 24:2-3

Have you ever seen the movie Quo Vadis? At one point in the film, Deborah Kerr is tied to a stake in the Roman Coliseum. Angry lions are released, and they rush at her. A reporter once asked, "Weren't you afraid when those lions were loosed and came plunging at you?" She replied, "No, I am one of those actresses who reads all the script. I had read to the end and I knew Robert Taylor would come and save me."

In that instance, there was no level of wishful thinking. Rather, it was a true measure of hope, an understanding that before anything really bad could happen to her, she'd be rescued. Lift that to an infinitely higher level, and we find the biblical witness. "Hope" for the Christian is not hoping in the normal sense of the word, as in Kerr's case; it is not wishful thinking. It is the very substance of faith which gives us our greatest certainty. I like the word from the Epistle to the Hebrews: "But we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who believe and are saved" (Heb. 10:39). No wonder we sing so joyfully that magnificent contemporary gospel hymn "Because He Lives," by Bill and Gloria Gaither, which sounds the note with such challenge:

Because He lives I can face tomorrow . . .

Because I know He holds the future,

And life is worth the living just because He lives.

This is the climactic affirmation of the church concerning Jesus. He was born of the Virgin Mary. He was a teacher of profound truth and wisdom. He performed incredible miracles. He suffered and was crucified. But apart from the Resurrection, he would not hold the same ultimate power.

Volumes have already been written—and more will be— about the possible meaning and mighty power of the Resurrection in our lives. It is this act that gives us hope. And though a physical stone was rolled away revealing an empty tomb, the imagery goes much further.

THE STONE OF DESPAIR

First, consider this: the Resurrection means that the stone of despair has been rolled away, allowing hope to flood in.

Before the Resurrection, hope was dependent upon the episodic breaking in of God upon human history. But now there is a once-and-for-all event. Because of the Resurrection, we can sustain a vision of hope. Hope has been given the substance of life itself. That's the reason Paul argued so forcefully in the fifteenth chapter of First Corinthians that the Resurrection was the hinge issue of the Christian faith. "And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. . . . If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men" (w. 17, 19).

THE STONE OF SORROW

Hope does not disappoint us because, through the Resurrection, the stone of sorrow has been rolled away and we are invited to joy.

My father in the ministry was David McKeithen. He died in the fall of 1990, and I still miss him terribly. David brought me into the Methodist Church. Under his ministry, I answered the call to preach. He was the pastor who married Jerry and me, baptized our son Kevin, and officiated at our daughter Kerry's wedding. Our lives have been woven together in so many ways. There is not one person who has meant more to me and influenced my life more than David.

Prior to David's death, Jerry and I had a chance to go to California and visit with him. It was a painful time—I cried a lot and didn't sleep very much. Early one morning, about 5 AM, I was tossing and turning. So I slipped out onto the patio and began to pray, to relive my relationship with David, and to recall my faith journey that he had influenced so deeply.

When there was enough light, I began to read the Psalms, somewhat randomly. Somehow I got to Psalm 30. This remarkable word of praise grabbed my attention: "You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent" (w. 11-12). But prior to that was my favorite line in all the Psalms: ". . . weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning" (v. 5).

Well, later that same afternoon, we were all in the room with David: Marguerite, his precious wife (one of God's great women); his two sons, David and Floyd (both United Methodist ministers); and Jerry and me. It just seemed right that we worship together. And we did. Some of us were seated on his bed, holding his hands; others were standing close around. We prayed and we sang hymns. Boy, did we sing! And I read a passage from First Thessalonians, chapter 4.

Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord's own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. (w. 13-15)

For the first time in my life, it dawned on me where the writer got the inspiration for one of my favorite gospel hymns.

When the trumpet of the Lord shall sound,

And time shall be no more.

When the morning breaks, eternal bright and fair;

When the saved of earth shall gather over on the other shore,

and the roll is called up yonder, I'll be there.

It was a time of joy as we celebrated with David there in that room—knowing that he would not be with us much longer. The stone of sorrow was rolled away, and we responded to the invitation to joy.

THE STONE OF DEATH

How better can we say it? The stone of death is rolled away, providing a doorway to life. That means both abundant life now and eternal life when we die. Consider now a story from a primitive rural Baptist church in the South, where they still practice foot washing. A preacher friend of mine was there, and he relayed this story to me:

Delmar always sits in the front row. His body is crippled. He sits on the corner by the aisle, in position to leave early. His face is angular; his gray hair, crew-cut. His frame is small and twisted. On this particular Sunday he was set aside by an act of grace. All of us are maimed in one way or another. On this Sunday God once more revealed how being maimed does not keep us from being His witness. Elder I. D. Black as worship leader initiated the sacrament, the washing of feet. Singing his sermon-prayer, picked up the basin. He singled out Delmar in the front-row aisle seat. "I'm going to wash your feet." As he came off the platform and knelt before Delmar, he continued his song as a sermon-prayer-hymn directly to Delmar. "God is going to dress you in a new body." Old Regular Baptists do not avoid the realities of tragic pain. The sermon-song did not mince the reality of Delmar's twisted body, hands, and feet. But Elder Black also sang of the Resurrection and the new body God gives: a glorious body, a transfigured body. Delmar reached out and hugged the preacher's neck. They put their arms around each other and I could see from the shaking shoulders that Delmar was crying. Delmar wanted to wash the preacher's feet in turn, but his twisted hands wouldn't work right to do it. A brother member came, knelt between them and helped Delmar wash the preacher's feet. The three of them were kneeling together, singing, crying, and holding each other. There is a hymn often used in that church which sings:

The highway leads over the mountain

The end of the journey is near.

At the top of this mountain is a beautiful sight.

I can almost see heaven from here.

I could see it that morning! Delmar left ahead of the crowd. He dragged his body around and down the aisle. I saw his face. In his face on that Sunday morning I saw a glimpse of the Resurrection!

Because the stone was rolled away—because Jesus is "the Resurrection and the life"—we will not be victims of death. We will be victors. We can know the stones of defeat and death are rolled away, making way for hope, and the stone of sorrow is rolled away, inviting us to joy. And when we have hope, we can know that God is ready and able to meet us wherever we are, and give us the courage we need to face whatever is ahead.

AN AMAZING THING HAPPENED

Though the Resurrection is a focal point of hope for Christians, we must remember that God began planting visions of hope in the minds and hearts of his people long before. We see it dramatically, for example, when Moses and Joshua were leading God's people out of captivity. They came near the Promised Land, but the Israelites were in the choking grip of negative thinking. They had a defeatist mentality and wallowed in their despair. They complained about everything: the food was no good and the accommodations were worse. They were frightened of the future. They criticized Moses and Joshua, accusing them of a subversive plot to kill them. Day after day they moped around and complained. When they surveyed the land God had promised them, they gave themselves the ultimate put-down—they saw themselves as grasshoppers and their enemies as giants.

Moses, their great leader, grew weary of their complaining antagonism. Joshua was fed up. Even God cried out, "How long will this wicked community grumble against me?" (Num. 14:27). To add to the despair and hopelessness, Moses died.

Then an amazing thing happened. The first chapter of Joshua opens with this word:

After the death of Moses the servant of the LORD, the LORD said to Joshua son of Nun, Moses' aide: "Moses my servant is dead. Now then, you and all these people, get ready to cross the Jordan River into the land I am about to give to them—to the Israelites." (w. 1-2)

For forty years Moses had been the leader. Joshua and the people of Israel had depended upon him. He was the great emancipator. Now he was dead, and the people and Joshua were discouraged and depressed. But God said, "Arise! Get up! Be done with this hopelessness; go over into Jordan, you and all the people, into the land which I am giving to them."

That word ignited their hope. And you already know the amazing thing that happened. These defeated, discouraged people were transformed. Though they were the descendants of slaves with no military training at all, fortified with faith and hope, they moved into a land occupied by people with vastly superior weapons and fortified cities, and they conquered it.

Hope allows us to trust

that God is at work.

Let it be noted that the victory took more than mere optimism. Optimism is not essential for kingdom reality. In fact, it can become an enemy. But optimism is not hope. Hope is altogether something else, and hope is the essence of the reign of God. It is the core truth of the Resurrection, the confidence that our Savior lives. It allows us to trust that, in ways we may not understand, God is at work, and that one day he will establish his kingdom. And thanks to the cross, death, and Resurrection—thanks to that stone being rolled away—we will be able to be a part of it.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- What "stones" in your life has Jesus helped you roll away? What stones remain?

- Think now of a time you've experienced unexplained hope. Describe it here.

- Think of a time when you felt more like the grumbling Israelites after Moses' death. Were you able to see beyond your circumstances and ignite a new hope?

THE GOSPEL BY WHICH WE ARE SAVED

Day 13

By this gospel you are saved. . . .

1 Cor. 15:2

It is impossible to overestimate the importance of the death and Resurrection of Jesus. The bottom line in the gospel is the living Christ.

Chapter 15 of Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians is one of the great chapters of the Bible. Paul is the first person to record in writing what had been preached about for years. His account precedes by at least fifteen years the accounts of the earliest Gospel. Can you imagine what it must have been like before all this was written down—to hear the preaching, stories, conversations, debates . . . all part of the unbelievable story of God coming to us in Jesus Christ? How he was born as a baby to a virgin, grew up as a normal human being, became an itinerant preacher, shocked listeners with his radical message of love and forgiveness, made fantastic claims about coming from God and going back to God, was condemned to die and willingly accepted that death, forgave those who hung him on the cross, and promised to come again. Then it really did happen—God raised him from the grave, and he was alive.

None of that was written down in any form that was eventually preserved as a whole until Paul began to write his letters to the communities of faith in different sections of the world of that day. His Letters to the Corinthians were a part of the earliest written record.

Of course there were questions and debates, and we can see it here. We don't know the precise questions that prompted Paul to include the message in chapter 15 of First Corinthians. We only know that it had to do with someone, or maybe a group, questioning the veracity of the Resurrection. Paul answered the question by sharing the substance of the gospel: "I declare the gospel which I preached to you . . . by which you are saved" (w. 1-2 NKJV) .

Let's try to grasp the full meaning of this good news by which we are saved. Imagine that you and I are very close friends. Imagine that I have known you long enough to know your lifestyle and inner thoughts, your dreams and passions. We have shared questions and longings, hopes and doubts. I care enough about you to be honest. One day, we are taking a long walk together. You can sense that I am uneasy. I'm finding conversation difficult. You know I want to say something, but I'm struggling to do so. Finally, I muster my courage and begin, "You are my friend, and I care so much for you." You don't know what is coming, but you sense my hesitancy. Then I blurt it out: "You are lying in the jaws of death and hell."

You are flabbergasted. "What are you talking about? In the jaws of death and hell? Maxie, you have lost it. Age is getting to you."

After whatever response I received from you—assuming you didn't stalk off angrily and leave me to walk alone—I would remind you that sometimes it takes dramatic language and images to force us to face reality. Paul pulled no punches. "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Rom. 3:23)."Jews and Gentiles alike are all under sin" (Rom. 3:9). "For the wages of sin is death" (Rom. 6:23).

After a little thought and my reminding you of these biblical descriptions of our plight, you might not think my words so shocking after all: "in the jaws of death and hell." The truth is, I got that picture from William Law, one of the great writers about the nature of our life outside Christ and inside the salvation Jesus offers. Law says:

. . . the reason we know so little of Jesus Christ as our Saviour . . . why we are so destitute of that faith in him which alone can change, rectify, and redeem our souls, why we live starving in the coldness and deadness of a formal, historical, hearsay religion, is this: we are strangers to our inward misery and wants, we know not that we lie in the jaws of death and hell.

But sooner or later we do know that, don't we? We may not talk about it in that kind of language, but we know. We know that the things we have wanted most, and the things we thought would set us free, have not done so. We still look in the mirror and know the person there is not the person we want to be, nor is it the person God has called us to be. And then, praise God, somehow it gets through to us. True faith is coming to Jesus Christ to be saved and delivered from our sinful nature. It is faith in Christ as an infallible Savior that frees us from the jaws of death and hell.

The word of Paul, then, the Scripture that tells us that "Christ died for our sins . . . that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day" (1 Cor. 15:3-4), comes as a joyous certainty. This is indeed the gospel by which we are saved.

HOME FROM THE FAR COUNTRY

A preacher friend recently shared with me the story of his prodigal son's return from the far country. His son was thirtythree years old. He had first become addicted to marijuana at age sixteen, which eventually led him into to the miserable, dangerous depths of almost every kind of drug use. Months would go by without any contact with his family. He spent time in jail, wandered homeless on the streets, suffered in treatment centers, and had near-fatal accidents. He would bear the marks of his sojourn in the far country forever.

If there is no cross, no

Resurrection, no living Christ,

then our faith is in vain.

This son was drawn from the "pigpen" of his tortured life by the memory of his parents' love and the gospel message his father preached: "God loves you as though you were the only person in the world to love. He was crucified, and buried, and he rose . . . just for you." He tested that gospel in a Christian community of recovering addicts. Without letting his parents know, he participated for three months in a treatment program centered in God's love, including honesty, confession, repentance, accountability, and re-imagining his future with Christ at the center. He stayed around the community for three more months after the initial three months of treatment.

His parents had not heard from their son for nine months. Their last news was that he was living on the streets in Phoenix. About three weeks before the father shared this story with me, his son had called. No contact for nine months, and now this word: "Dad, I've found Christ and I've found myself. I'm coming home. What you have preached about God's love and our salvation in Jesus Christ is true."

Can you imagine that father's joy? We want to sing it, don't we? Well, that's what Paul was doing in his First Letter to the Corinthians. "Christ died for our sins . . . he was buried, he was raised on the third day." And, "by this gospel you are saved."

Let's focus briefly now on another word of Paul: "But by the grace of God I am what I am" (1 Cor. 15:10). Paul gave testimony to what God's extraordinary grace had done for him. Paul had not known Jesus while Christ lived on earth, but his experience with Christ was no different than those who had walked with him in the flesh. Grace gave Paul a new sense of self-acceptance, the ability to say, "By the grace of God I am what I am."

Friends, we can say the same thing! The test of our faith is Christ alive in us. Now, Paul may say this in a lot of different ways, but his bottom line is clear. If there is no cross, no Resurrection, no living Christ, then our faith is in vain. He makes the case over and over again in the second part of Chapter 15. Verse 14 tells us, "And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith."

This brings us back to where we began: the central fact of Christian faith is the death and Resurrection of Jesus. Had it all ended with the cross, there would be no good news to share, no community of faith to bear witness. There would not even be a New Testament to teach and preach. But there is a New Testament, and there is a Gospel which saves. There is, too, the Christ who is alive in me, and can be in you.

THE TRANSFORMING EXPERIENCE OF MERCY

The very fact that Christ would choose to be alive in any of us is not only a sign of the extravagant heart of God, it's also an illuminating example of another of God's gifts: mercy. Mercy (chesed in Hebrew) is one of the great words of the Bible. Jesus uses it to boldly declare an aspect of the new covenant: "Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful" (Luke 6:36). It is also the attribute Jesus commended in the story of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), when the Samaritan had mercy on the man who had been beaten and robbed. He identifies mercy with forgiveness, too, in the parable of the unforgiving servant (Matt. 18:23-35); if we lack forgiveness, we will not receive mercy ourselves.

The mercy that Jesus speaks of—and demonstrates—is always active; it is sympathy in action as pity and compassion expressed in gracious deeds. In his most descriptive word about judgment, Jesus said that our level of mercy is what will determine our place within or outside of the kingdom (Matt. 25:31-46).

Mercy is, at its core, an attribute of God. Most dictionaries define mercy as "kind and compassionate treatment," but Scripture shows that it can be much more. In the Bible, mercy is always associated with forgiveness. God's mercy, then, does not involve only kindness, but also forgiveness. God's mercy is his act of wiping the slate clean, separating us from our sin and wrongdoing as far as the east is from the west. And he did that through Jesus and the cross.

God's mercy is a powerful force. When we give it a chance, when we seek to understand the death and Resurrection of Christ and what it means for our lives, we are transformed and re-created. The gospel, then, means that yesterday does not eternally haunt us; we become new people today. God's mercy forever alters our destiny, transforming Mary Magdalene from a woman of questionable reputation into an example of precious, holy love, destined to be the first witness to our Lord's Resurrection; moving Simon Peter from cowardice to legendary leader; and transforming Paul from persecuting skeptic to powerful messenger of the gospel.

The discovery of God's mercy is always a transforming experience. When we hear of God's power to separate us from our wrongdoing as far as the east is from the west, we receive good news. But discovering God's mercy can also be painful, because experiencing that power involves honesty with God. We must admit our mistakes before God can separate us from them.

God's mercy is a shower of blessing that cleanses, transforms, and refreshes us, and we experience it by turning to God. As we turn to God, we begin to grow as "imitators" of God, and the Beatitude comes alive in us: as we are merciful, we receive mercy. Remember, when Jesus talked about judgment and the life beyond, he singled out mercy—or the lack of it—as the determining factor of our ultimate destiny (Matt. 25:31-46; Luke 16:19-31).

Please note that this is not merit theology—making a claim on God's mercy because of our deeds. We simply must practice mercy as we seek to be like God. And we must continue to allow God's mercy toward us to renew and refresh our hope. When we do this, Christ truly becomes alive in us, alive to provide forgiveness of our sins, healing in our brokenness, direction in our disorientation, joy in our sadness, and one day—one day—our own Resurrection from the dead for eternal life with Him.

This is the gospel by which we are saved—and the gospel by which we live, in the shadow of his great mercy and grace.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- Have you ever felt that the things you wanted most and the things you thought would set you free have not done so?

- How did you react to that awareness?

- Have you ever visited the "far country?" What drew you back home?

- Can you identify with Paul's statement, "By the grace of God, I am what I am"? Why or why not?

To LIVE IN JOY

Day 14

Hallelujah! Salvation and glory and power belong to

our God. . . . Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty

reigns. Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory!

Rev. 19:1,6-7

In these busy times of ours, retreats can offer a muchneeded break. In my own life, they're essential. Since I'm with people all the time, my life is intertwined with many lives. And daily "quiet times"—snatches of solitude now and then—are simply not enough. I run down and I run out! Occasionally, then, I have to set aside a deliberate time and place—two or three days—to be alone with myself and God, to reflect and meditate, to try to get it all together.

On one of those retreats, I was alone in a little house near the ocean. Just before dark, I decided to take a walk on the beach. There is something about being alone on the beach that is renewing for me—the bite of the wind; the powerful, swooshing sound of the waves; the struggle between day and night as one fades and the other comes to life. It is always an invigorating, renewing experience.

On that occasion, I was walking along with my mind in neutral, trying to be open to whatever might touch my spirit, when something drew my eyes downward. I almost stepped on a beautiful butterfly: velvet black with bright yellow splotches and rich orange spots on the inner tips of its wings. It was stuck on a seaweed pod, squirming to be free. I took its wings gently between my fingers, pulled it clear of the seaweed, and for a few moments marveled at its beauty. This fragile creature struggled in my fingers, but when I let go it didn't seem to have the strength to fly. I tossed it gently into the air, hoping to launch it on his way, but it plummeted to the sand.

For a moment I felt pain. I identified with such helplessness. Had I held it too long and made its wings too nimble for flight? I crouched over it, and for a second I was one with this little butterfly, wanting to do something to help it fly. But I could work no such miracle.

In that moment of disappointment, I saw our human plight. Made for meaningful life and fulfillment, most of us are stuck in the web of grueling circumstances. Made for flight, we never rise above the plodding task of getting by as best we can. Something clicked inside me—I'm sure it was the Holy Spirit calling my soul to attention. I became ecstatic; I wanted to sing, to leap, to dance, and to shout. More powerful, and just as real as the roaring waves, a flood of words swept over me.

- I have come that [you] may have life, and have it to the full. (John 10:10)

- Because I live, you also will live. (John 14:19)

- Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. (John 17:3)

- God has given us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. He who has the Son has life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have life. (1 John 5:11-12)

- Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! (2 Cor. 5:17)

The high tide of that flood of words came with the affirmation from the Book of Revelation:

Then 1 saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. . . . And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men . . . the old order of things has passed away . . . I am making everything new!" (Rev. 21:1, 3-5, italics added).

With my heel I drew a deep circle in the sand around my butterfly friend so that I could find it when I came back up the beach. I walked away, pondering life. What does it look like, this life God gives us in Jesus Christ?

It looks like acceptance experienced by a despised tax collector. It looks like forgiveness experienced by a woman who had sold her body and was about to be stoned by those who didn't understand such forgiveness. It looks like new meaning for a person estranged from her community, who comes to the well at midday to find a mysterious young Jew who tells her about the refreshing waters of eternal life. It looks like healing for a man possessed by forces that drive him to dwell among the tombs, but has his mind put at ease as his disease is eradicated. It looks like comfort and hope for two women who are helplessly crying because their beloved brother is in the tomb. It looks like hungry men sharing some loaves and fishes on a hillside, like human need of all kinds being met, the lame leaping for joy, the blind receiving sight, the deaf hearing, captives released, the dead brought to life again.

It looks like a man going all the way to a cross, sacrificing himself in affirmation of all people, and then reappearing on the third day as a stranger who is recognized in the simple act of breaking and sharing bread.

I like the way Eugene Peterson paraphrases Revelation 21:3 in his translation, The Message: "I heard a voice thunder from the Throne: 'Look! Look! God has moved into the neighborhood, making his home with men and women! They're his people, he's their God.'"

Do you get it? How can we miss it? But we have. Every day—every day—is a now day of Resurrection. Easter is not an annual experience. The living Christ is not to be experienced only on occasion. His presence is to be the dominant reality continually shaping our lives.

THE HINT HALF GUESSED

As humans, we sometimes feel that we're merely guessing at the meaning of the mysteries of our faith, especially Jesus' life, death, and Resurrection. In our culture of instant gratification, we want quick, easy answers. But it is not the way of the sacred to overwhelm us with instant revelation; God gives only hints. And it is easy to miss the hints when we're struggling through the dilemmas of everyday life. Incarnation, God coming to us in Jesus, is a mystery, but it's still real and powerful. Even a half receiving of this gift offers more meaning than any other promise of fulfillment for our lives. Have you reflected on the meaning of God's real, living presence in Jesus? Have you received any glimpses, any divine hints, into this eternal mystery?

WHY WE STILL PREACH THE CROSS

Remember how Milton struggled in trying to write about the cross? We, too, can be at a loss for words. We can ask ourselves time and again, "Can't you do something about that dreadful cross?" The answer is yes. We can let it remind us of the beauty that lies within it, the powerful truth it holds that applies to our daily lives. Recall First Corinthians 1:18: "For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God." The fact that Jesus went to the cross for our sins and yet still lives is the shaping dynamic of the Christian life. In reading more about Jesus this week, has your perception of the cross changed? In what ways?

HE COMES AS HE CAME

Remember Jesus riding on a donkey, exhibiting humility as well as strength. Remember him as he wept over the city of Jerusalem, his heart full of compassion, even as he pronounced judgment at the temple. He comes, even today, as he came in the flesh then: showing us new peace and power, exhibiting kindness and compassion, and judging those who do not take his way seriously. Is this consistent with your own personal view of Jesus? As you've gone through the week, have you considered in what ways you are like your Savior—and in what ways you are not? Take a moment to ask him now.

A LOVE LIKE NO OTHER

As humans, our most profound need is to be loved. God offers us a deeply fulfilling, richly satisfying love that we literally cannot find anywhere else. Recall that the way we feel about ourselves has a lot to do with the way we believe the most important people in our lives view us. As Christians, with Jesus our central character, we can walk in confidence knowing that he loves us enough to give his very life. People in our lives may be fickle, but God is not. God loves us unconditionally, and there is nothing we can do to earn or justify that love; it just is. When we are able to accept that, we can become the secure, whole people God intended us to be all along. As you have pondered the questions of this study, have you come across any areas of doubt of God's great love for you? If so, take them to God in prayer, and ask God to show you just how precious you are to him as his adopted child.

Day 15: The Essence of the Gospel

Day 16: Alive in Christ

Day 17: Constantly Abiding

Day 18: Humble and Available

Day 19: The Shaping Power of the Indwelling Christ

Day 20: What Christ Has Been and Done for Us

Day 21: Dying and Rising with Christ

THE ESSENCE OF THE GOSPEL

Day 15

For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness, "

made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of

the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.

2 Cor. 4:6

The year was 1958. It was Senior Recognition Day at Candler School of Theology at Emory University, and I was graduating. The dean had invited the powerful preacher Dow Kirkpatrick to address our senior recognition service. Dow was at his best that day—and that best was great.

He told a story I'm sure I'll ever forget. It came out of the World Methodist Conference, which met in Oxford in 1951. The high point of that program was the service of commemoration held at St. Mary's Church, the University Church, honoring John and Charles Wesley. There was only one man alive at that time who was the right person to preach on such an occasion. He was John Scott Lidgett, then more than ninety years of age. Lidgett's mother had heard John Wesley preach in person, and had shared those memories with her son.

In 1951, the elderly Lidgett was in good health, but he didn't have much strength. His doctors decided that if they could conserve his strength, he might be able to preach that evening. So they brought him to Oxford on the train and put him in a hotel to rest. Then they dressed him in his preaching robe and drove him to the church. The pulpit chair was carried out to the car; he was lifted into it, then carried back to the platform, and he didn't stand at all during the service until time to preach. Then, when it was time for Lidgett to preach, he spoke for almost thirty minutes—vigorously. Just as he asked the congregation for the closing prayer, he swooned, every ounce of energy having gone from him.

Many people in the congregation undoubtedly thought they were witnessing the passing of a great man. Lidgett was taken out of the church and rode in an ambulance back to his hotel room, where a doctor was waiting. The report is that, about 2 AM, he roused, opened his eyes, and said, "Preaching always did take something out of me."

Well, it does, and it should. Just hearing that powerful story—and the Scripture that accompanied it—confirmed my own calling. For me, that graduation day was one of those Mount Tabor experiences, when God allows us to see a huge portion of his glory, and in the ecstasy of that experience lays his claim upon our lives, and we can never quite forget it.

The Scripture was Second Corinthians 4:6: "For God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ." I'm sure I had read the verse before, but it never really hit me. That day it did. It penetrated to the deepest core of my being, enveloped my soul, and has been a part of me ever since. The radiant glory of God shining in the face of Jesus Christ which has shined in our hearts is ours to declare. This is the incredibility of the Christian witness. All together, it provides the essence of the gospel and its call upon us.

I don't know another text that gathers up the essence of the gospel as that one does. By essence, I mean what the dictionary says: "That which makes something what it is—the distinctive quality or qualities of something."

That which makes the gospel what it is, is here in this text—and there's only one word for it—incredible! The radiant glory of God shines in the face of Jesus Christ. This is the incredibility of the Incarnation. The radiant glory of God shining in the face of Jesus Christ has shined in our hearts. This is the incredibility of the Christian experience. The radiant glory of God shining in the face of Jesus Christ which has shined in our hearts is ours to declare. This is the incredibility of the Christian witness. All together, it provides the essence of the gospel and its call upon us.

THE INCARNATION

That incredible gospel is Christianity's unique claim. The radiant glory of God shines in the face of Jesus Christ. God's ultimate revelation is Jesus Christ—we call it the Incarnation.On that night when Jesus was born, in response to the cries of the righteous for an answer to the terrible silence of God, God sent an infant who, at that moment, could do little more than cry. On that night, God stooped to our level, and bending over this violent playpen we call home, gave us truth in the only way we might possibly understand: a baby lying in a manger. On that night, a world which couldn't care less came face to face with a God who couldn't care more.

The author of the Letter to the Hebrews put it this way: "In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son . . . " (1:1-2).

"ALMOST"

Let me put all this in contrast. Few people in the twentieth century seemed as immortal as Mao Tse-tung. Chairman Mao became the incarnation of a movement, a system of thought, and a revolution that affected 900 million people. He lived to his early eighties and was China's leader for more than three decades. It was difficult for even the most astute observer to imagine a China without Chairman Mao. Yet, he died. Orville Schell wrote shortly after Mao's death: "He conceived of the Chinese revolution, and then helped cause it to happen, and in the process every thought of Chairman Mao became the primary thought of almost every Chinese. The word almost literally became flesh."

Jesus is God's irresistible invitation

to salvation and eternal life.

Note the conditional word almost—the word almost became flesh. Of course, Chairman Mao will take his place in history with other great shapers of national life, but the limitation is still there. John, writing of Jesus said, "The Word became flesh." No reservation; no conditional definition.

My first trip to China was in 1978, two years after Mao's death. His likeness in picture and statue was still everywhere. The little red book of his quotations was still in all the bookstores. When I was in China the following year, the magnificent mausoleum that had been built for Chairman Mao was closed. The official statement was that it was closed for repairs, but the informal word passed on among the guides was that there was a deliberate effort to diminish Mao's presence in the minds and hearts of the people. And that diminishing work has continued in China to the present day.

In Mao, powerful man that he was, the word almost became flesh. But with Jesus, the Word did become flesh and dwelt among us. We beheld his glory. This is the incredibility of the Incarnation, that the radiant glory of God shines in the face of Jesus Christ. The witness of this incredible event is present on every page of the Gospels.

At Jesus' birth, angels sing in the skies. At Jesus' baptism, a mysterious voice is heard from heaven. At Jesus' death, darkness covers the earth and earthquakes shake the very rocks apart. At Jesus' Resurrection, angels appear, as does an unrecognized gardener. What's more, there is an empty tomb and a body that can walk through doors. And at Pentecost, mysterious tongues of flame come to rest on the heads of the disciples, accompanied by the roaring of a gale-force wind.

Jesus is central in the gospel because Jesus is God's movement of love toward us. Jesus is God's irresistible invitation to salvation and eternal life. He is God's affirmation that we are not left to make it on our own. We're not forgotten, we're not forsaken, we're not given up to be sojourners in a foreign land with no signals to guide us and no destination to move toward. Incredible!

God has become one with us to make us one with him. If we don't get this in our understanding of the gospel, we don't get the rest. If we don't begin here, there's no place to go. There will be no renewal of the church, no revival of faith among us, and no witnessing to the world until we lodge this truth solidly in our minds and hearts and proclaim it unreservedly. The radiant glory of God that shines in the face of Jesus Christ is the incredibility of the Incarnation.

THE CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE

The radiant glory of God shining in the face of Jesus Christ, Paul said, has shined in our hearts. This is the incredibility of the Christian experience. We call it conversion, salvation, or being born again.

These days the term born again is not in good stead among many, because it has been distorted in its use. But let's not give it away—let's understand and claim it, since Jesus insisted that we must be born again. I believe in being born again. I believe it because Jesus calls us to it, but I believe it also because I have experienced it.

Even though I believe in being born again, I pray that the day will soon come when we won't have to talk about being a born-again Christian. You see, that phrase is redundant. If one is born again, one is a Christian and it is a life-or-death issue, eternal life or eternal death. How it happens is not the issue; the fact that it happens is the most important thing in the world. The truth is, there is no Christian tradition without some personal encounter with the living Christ.

There is a story about a husband who was berating his wife for her irresponsible spending. "How many times do I have to tell you," he warned angrily, "that it's economically unsound to spend money before you get it?"

That didn't intimidate her one bit, for she replied, "Oh, I don't know about that. This way, if you don't get the money, at least you have something to show for it."

If you have had a Christian experience, whether you say you've been "born again," have "new life in Christ," or know "the light of the knowledge of God shining in the face of Jesus Christ shining in our hearts"—it doesn't matter how you talk about it, you have something to show for it. You are alive in Christ!

THE CHRISTIAN WITNESS

That leads us to the incredibility of the Christian witness. The light of the knowledge of the glory of God, shining in the face of Jesus Christ, is ours to share. Witness is the vocation of every Christian. This vocation is connected with, defined through, and empowered by the facts of the Incarnation and the Christian experience of which we have been speaking. We'll consider this more in days to come.

Let me close with this reminder: what we think about Jesus Christ and how we experience him determines the shape of our personal life and destiny. Not only that, but it also determines the shape of our ministry, both as lay and clergy. What we think about Christ and how we experience him will determine the shape of our personal congregational life. What person or congregation dares withhold from others what they have experienced as a free gift from God?

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- In what ways do you reflect the radiant glory of God in your life? Are there areas where you feel a bit "dim"?

- Have you had a personal "Mount Tabor" experience, when God allowed you to see a huge portion of his glory? If so, describe it. If not, how do you imagine God might reveal himself to you?

- Are there certain things you think about Jesus that have shaped your life for the better? How might some of your thoughts about Jesus be keeping you from experiencing the light of the knowledge of God shining in the face of Jesus Christ in your heart?

ALIVE IN CHRIST

Day 16

To them God has chosen to make known

among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this

mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.

Col. 1:27

On and off for over a dozen years, my morning ritual has included a word to myself. Sometimes I speak it aloud; sometimes I simply register it in my awareness. Sometimes I make it a liturgy, repeating it over and over again in a breathing-in-and-out exercise: "Maxie, the secret is simply this: Christ in you! Yes, Christ in you bringing with him the hope of all glorious things to come." (This is Phillips' translation of Colossians 1:27, addressed to me personally.)

If there is a growing edge in my life—and I pray that there is—it is at this point: I'm seeking and discovering the experience of the indwelling Christ. I have come to believe that this is the key to the Christian experience, certainly the key to authentic Christian piety and spirituality—to be alive in Christ.

It is interesting to me that Paul, in all of his writings, does not tell about his Damascus Road experience in descriptive detail. Luke records that dramatic event in the Acts of the Apostles. But Paul doesn't recount an outward description of being struck down by a blinding light and hearing the voice of Christ. Rather, he talks about the meaning of that event and almost sings about it in exulting joy: "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me" (Gal. 2:20).

What an unbelievable, breathtaking possibility! It is an extravagant claim. We could pass it off and not pay too much attention to it if this were an isolated instance in Scripture. However, this is the language Paul uses throughout his letters.

"In Christ," "in union with Christ," "Christ in you"—these are recurring words in Paul's vocabulary. Variations of the phrase occur no less than 172 times in the New Testament. Paul's definition of a Christian is a person in Christ: "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" (2 Cor. 5:17).

Paul is not the only person to use that language. Do you remember Jesus' allegory of the vine and the branches in the fifteenth chapter of John? He tells us who the Father is and who he is in relation to the Father. And then he tells us who we are in relation to him.

I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. (John 15:1-5)

Extravagant, but yet, reality. Simple, but not simplistic. Jesus came for one purpose and one purpose alone: to bring himself to us, and while doing so, to bring God. Not only does he justify us by providing full pardon for our sin, but he also indwells us to give us the power to be and do all those things God requires us to be and do. The message of justification by faith is our evangelistic proclamation which must never be diminished. It is crucial. However, it is not complete.

Remember that the Christian experience is more than conversion. We talk about becoming Christian in ways like "accepting Christ," "inviting Christ into our lives," "receiving Christ as Savior," "being born again by allowing Christ to be born in us." Whatever the language, the faith and experience is that, as we confess and repent of our sins, we are forgiven. We are justified and accepted, and we enter into a new relationship with God, who then lives in us through the power of his Spirit as the indwelling Christ.

The idea of being alive in Christ, then, is a common theme in Scripture. Beyond that, it's one of the most exciting possibilities we are offered.

THE SHAPING POWER OF OUR LIVES

If we are to take this seriously, we must understand that the presence of God in Jesus Christ is not just to be experienced on occasion; the indwelling Christ is to become the shaping power of our lives.

Picture that possibility. I have a friend who is a Benedictine monk. The way we live our lives is vastly different, but I feel a real kinship—a oneness of spirit—with Brother Sam. One of the most meaningful memories, to which I return often in my mind, is an evening he and I spent together sharing our Christian journeys. The vivid highlight of that evening was when he shared with me the occasion of his solemn vows, the service when he made his life commitment to the Benedictine community and the monastic life. It was a commitment that included the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience.

In that service of commitment, Brother Sam prostrated himself, covered in a funeral pall, before the altar of the chapel in the very spot where his coffin will be set when he dies. The bell that tolls at the earthly parting of a brother sounded the solemn gongs of death. Then there was silence—the silence of death. After a few moments, the silence of the gathered community was broken by the singing of the word to the Colossians: "For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God" (3:3). After that powerful word, there was more silence as Brother Sam reflected upon his solemn vow. Then the community broke into singing Psalm 118, which is a part of the Easter liturgy in the Benedictine community: "I will not die but live, and will proclaim what the LORD has done" (v. 17).

After this Resurrection proclamation, the liturgist shouted the word from Ephesians 5:14: "Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." Then the bells of the abbey began to ring loudly and joyfully; Brother Sam rose; the funeral pall fell off; the abbot brought the white robe of the Benedictine order and placed it upon him; he received the kiss of peace from all the brothers and was welcomed into that community to live a life "hidden with Christ in God."

It is a great liturgy of death and Resurrection, and is a symbolic reenactment of the Christian experience. When Brother Sam and I shared, I relived in vivid memory my own baptism in a rather cold creek in rural Mississippi one September. Paul gave powerful witness to it over and over again: "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me."

LIVING OUR LIVES IN CHRIST

To be a Christian is to change. It is to become new. It is not simply a matter of choosing a new lifestyle, though there is a new style. It has to do with being a new person. The new person does not emerge full-blown. Conversion—passing from death to life—may be the miracle of a moment, but the making of a saint is the task of a lifetime. The new process of saint-making is to work out in fact what is already dynamic in principle. In position, in our relation to God in Jesus Christ, we are new persons. Now our condition—the actual life that we live—must be brought into harmony with our new position.

A man once said to Dwight L. Moody, "Sir, I am a selfmade man." Moody replied, "You have saved the Lord from a very grave responsibility."

Conversion may be the miracle of

a moment, but the making of a

saint is the task of a lifetime.

Paul contends that we are new creatures, perfect in Christ Jesus (Col. 1:28); created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness (Eph. 4:24); and renewed according to the image of God who created us (Col. 3:10). Nothing less is the aim of the Christian life, and Paul uses a striking word to describe our new life in Christ, the word in the liturgy of Brother Sam. "For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God" (Col. 3:3).

Can you imagine a more stupendous claim than the idea of living our lives in Christ? That Christ can live in us? This is radical, but I believe it is at the very heart of the Christian faith. And it can have a profound effect, no matter who we are.

I remember when Larry, a man in his mid-thirties, asked to meet with me. He shared the sad news that he had to leave our church; his job was taking him to another city. He was sad because he didn't want to leave our congregation, but there was a radiant joy about him as he reminded me of the commitment to Christ that he had made just a year prior. He even recalled the occasion and the sermon. That commitment led him to tithe his income, which he said was giving him incomparable joy. It led him to living daily with the Scriptures, which had enriched his life and deepened his faith. It led him to praying, which had become a vital reality to him; he talks and listens to God.

We must remember that Christ becoming alive in us doesn't have to be a dramatic experience. Larry was not delivered from drugs or alcohol; he didn't have a sordid past that had completely spoiled his life. Even so, he needed the light of the knowledge of the glory of God.

Larry's was a quiet but definite experience in which he came clearly to the conviction that something was missing in his life. He was without spiritual direction and meaning. There was no assurance of salvation. There was no joy in his life, but then it happened. He learned to live a new life "hidden with Christ in God."

Oh, that we would learn the same.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- What does the phrase "hidden with Christ in God" mean to you?

- Do you know anyone you would consider alive in Christ? What characteristics make you think so?

- When you gained new life, what parts of your self were you able to bury with the old? Take a moment now to thank God for that experience.

CONSTANTLY ABIDING

Day 17

As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you.

Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you

will remain in my love. . . . I have told you this so that my

joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.

John 15:9-11

As I grow older, and hopefully wiser, I am more convinced that despite the limitations of my early life, the soil in which my roots originally grew was fertile. The richness of love in our home was more powerful than material poverty. The warm concern, gentle care, and self-sacrificing of my parents for their five children gave us a heritage money can't buy.

Though limited in some ways, the faith we shared in our little country church had an expansive simplicity to which I often return. On a visit not long before my parents died, I celebrated this faith with them as we worshiped in the same church where I took my initial stumbling steps in Christian living. Nothing seemed to have changed—the spontaneity, the informality, the earthiness—except maybe the sermon. The simple ritual consisted of congregational singing, a prayer by someone called upon in the congregation, announcements, sermon, altar call, and dismissal.

The music's lack of sophistication was more than made up for in enthusiasm, total congregational participation, and joy. We sang as though we meant it. The songs were not preselected.Worshippers had the opportunity to call out their favorite numbers. I flipped through my book, and there it was: I hadn't thought of it or sung it for years—but it was one of my favorite gospel songs. I called out the number: 168, "Constantly Abiding." The chorus of that song rang out and burrowed its way into my soul.

Constantly abiding, Jesus is mine;

Constantly abiding, rapture divine;

He never leaves me lonely, whispers, O, so kind—

"I will never leave thee," Jesus is mine.

Some may call it sweet piety, but it is really good theology. Claiming that Jesus is mine may sound simplistic and selfcentered. I prefer another phrase. Instead of "Jesus is mine," we can proclaim, "I am his." Either way, the thought remains: it's all about constantly abiding.

THE SPIRIT WHO LIVES IN YOU

At its simplest level, this is what the gospel is all about: the life that comes to us as we allow the presence of Jesus to find expression through us. Think again of John 15:4, which promises us that if we abide in Christ, he will abide in us. Simple, but not simplistic! Jesus came for one purpose: to bring himself to us, and in bringing himself, to bring God. He came to give us the power to be and do all those things God requires us to be and do.

Now, there is a difference between following Jesus and being in Christ. Without a doubt, we should see Jesus as a model and seek to follow him, to be like him, to do what he would do. Nor is there any doubt that we are judged by Jesus. In his presence, putting our lives alongside his, we are reminded of what is possible for our lives.

Jesus was human—don't forget that. But look at the new dimension he brings to our humanity. We can't capture his spirit and still excuse our sin and failure by claiming that we are only human. We look at Christ—and to take Christianity seriously is to really look at him—and hear his call to our unachieved personhood. And a Christ like that can do something for us if we let him.

Constantly abiding means allowing

both the guiding nature and the creative

force of Jesus to be active in our lives.

On a practical level, constantly abiding means allowing both the guiding nature and the creative force of Jesus to be active in our lives. There is a marvelous word about that in Romans 8:14: "Those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God."

Throughout the New Testament, especially in the writings of John and Paul, the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of God, and the Spirit of Christ are used interchangeably and are often indistinguishable. Paul's word, then, follows a passage in which it is impossible to distinguish Christ dwelling within from the Holy Spirit. Consider this:

You, however, are controlled not by the sinful nature but by the Spirit, if the Spirit of God lives in you. And if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he does not belong to Christ. But if Christ is in you, your body is dead because of sin, yet your spirit is alive because of righteousness. And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit, who lives in you. (Rom. 8:9-11)

This is the language of the Trinity, not easy to explain, so we sing it as "God in three persons, blessed Trinity." So we talk about Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

In John 14:18, Jesus tells his disciples, "I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you." He then makes it clear that his Spirit, the Spirit of God, will be an abiding—and guiding— presence in their lives. Most of us can recall occasions when we knew for certain that we were being guided by a presence bigger than our selves. But how often do we live in anxiety, uncertain about the direction we should take, immobilized by choices, impotent in the presence of opportunity because we are indecisive? We need guidance and we can't grab hold of it.

There are great decisions in life—vocation, marriage, career movement, crisis situations—when our need for direction is vividly pronounced. But what plagues us most and drains us of so much energy are the decisions we face every day, when we have to choose which way to go. To be sure, we need guidance at the major intersections of our lives, but we need it also at the little crossings and turnings that make up the bulk of our lives. It's time to renew our thinking about guidance, to see it not as an intermittent need, but as an ongoing dynamic which shapes our very being and inspires decisions both large and small.

The guidance of the indwelling Christ is both consistent and continual. Of course there will be times when we seek explicit direction in particular situations, but we do not come "cold turkey" to a crisis. If we want to truly be delivered from feeling frantic when facing major decisions, we need to cultivate an ongoing awareness of the indwelling Christ through prayer and other spiritual disciplines. We have the inner sense of Christ's presence, so when we call upon that presence, direction is often so clear that the right decision comes easily and naturally.

THE OLD IS GONE

There is more to this business of abiding. In addition to providing guidance, the Spirit of Life allows us to be constantly re-created. "If anyone is in Christ," Paul reminds us in Second Corinthians 5:17, "he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" This offer of life is central to the New Testament; John firmly nails it down describing the purpose of Jesus' coming as the abolition of death and the possibility of abundant life for all persons. Again, death is not nonexistence, and life is not simply existence. Death is existence without God.Life is life in God. The claim of the New Testament is that the presence of God with humanity is a reality in Jesus. But it goes much further than that—this presence of God in Jesus can be experienced by each and every one of us.

I completely missed this truth for a long time. For years after my conversion, even while I was preaching the gospel, I was missing life. I preached grace without living this reality: I am incapable of saving myself. Nothing I do can earn my salvation. The New Testament teaches that we begin our fellowship with God by grace. The Holy Spirit, by grace, draws me to Christ as my only hope. The Holy Spirit, by grace, renews me, transforming, forgiving, and re-creating me as a new person in Christ. This is the new birth—all by grace!

We easily forget that not only do we come into the Christian life by grace, we can live this new life only by grace. We can try struggling and straining at righteousness, mustering all our strength and putting forth all our efforts to be Christlike. We can try to whip ourselves into the image of Jesus, setting up performance standards and disciplines that we think will conform to his likeness. But it never works when our efforts are driven by our egos.

As do-it-yourself people, one of our most difficult lessons to learn is how to live by the Spirit. Most of our Christian activity is the result of our own design and effort, not Spirit energy. So we keep on failing. We keep on straining and struggling, wearing ourselves out, dying of heart failure because we don't recognize and exercise the indwelling Christ. Our competence in doing this work, Paul says, comes only from God. "He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant—not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life" (2 Cor. 3:5-6).

I like to call the practice of walking in that competence "grace-full" living. Grace-full living is not based on rules and regulations we can't obey, but on a personal relationship. The closer we walk with Christ—the more we abide—the more the Spirit within us produces life.

In my own life, I have found the discipline of affirming the living Christ to be absolutely essential; my freedom and joy depend on it. We must continually remind ourselves that Jesus is alive today. He is a now reality, and this reality must become personal. Jesus is alive in me! This is what Paul was trying to teach the Colossians: ". . . Christ in you, the hope of glory" (Col. 1:27).

To truly abide, we must also enter into a healthy dependence upon Christ. My greatest challenge in life is not knowing what to do. In most situations, I am well aware of what I ought to do. My problem is putting that knowledge into action.What I need is power. So it is not enough to recognize the indwelling Christ, I must exercise him; that is, I must depend upon and allow him to work through me.

As Christians, we must also learn to live in the now and "hang loose." It may sound flip, but it's actually quite profound. Jesus had a specific word about this:

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? . . . See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. . . . Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (Matt. 6:25-34)

When we realize this truth, that there is nothing we can do without Christ, then there is nowhere else to go but to him. We claim his forgiveness when we sin or fail. We remember that our relationship with him does not depend upon our success, but upon his grace and forgiveness. We are not under the law, where everything depends upon our performance. We are under grace, where everything depends upon his love. When we accept this, we can relax. We can live in the now and hang loose.

Just one more thing: constantly abiding also means acting boldly in the confidence of Christ's strength. Too many of us pray for God's will in our lives without any intention of following the guidance we receive. It is interesting to know, but actually doing it—that's the rub! The power of the indwelling Christ is exercised as we act. Continuing to abide, then, means continuing to walk by faith, relying on God, and being aware of the constant presence of the Spirit in our daily lives. That's where we find grace—and the grace-full life begins.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- What does abiding in Christ mean to you? In what ways do you practice abiding in him, and in what ways do you not?

- Is worry a constant challenge for you? If so, what are some steps you can take to overcome it?

- In what ways can we tap into the re-creating force of the Spirit in our lives?

HUMBLE AND AVAILABLE

Day 18

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

Matt. 5:7-8

One of the most effective and colorful congressmen ever was a crusty old gentleman from Texas named Sam Rayburn. He served Congress for more than fifty years and, during the last ten of those years, he was speaker of the house. But the real greatness of Sam Rayburn was not in the public positions he held; it was in his common touch.

One day Rayburn heard that the teenage daughter of a Washington reporter had died. Early the next morning, he went over to the reporter's house and knocked on the door."I just came by to see what I could do to help," he said.

The reporter was obviously touched. "Well, thank you, Mr.Speaker, but I don't think there is anything you can do. We're handling all the arrangements."

Rayburn said to him, "Let me ask you—have you had your coffee yet this morning?" When the reporter said that he had not, Rayburn said, "Well, I'll make it for you."

Without giving the fellow time to object, Rayburn went into the house and began to make coffee in the kitchen. The reporter was taken aback. "Mr. Speaker," he said, "I thought you were having breakfast at the White House with the President this morning."

Mr. Rayburn responded, "Well, I was, but I called the President and told him I had a friend who was having some trouble, and that I wouldn't be in today."

That's a great story, isn't it? More than anything else, it demonstrates a much-needed dimension of the Christian walk, another essential dimension of being a person alive in Christ: generosity of self. And that plays out by being willing and able to serve others wherever needed.

Yesterday, we talked about constantly abiding and being alive in Christ. If that means anything, it means that we are in love. As John wrote:

Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us. (1 John 4:7-12)

In essence, John is saying that God sent Jesus into the world to be the ultimate expression of himself, an expression of love. We are to love in that same way, but we can't do that if we're so focused on ourselves—so caught up in our own pride—that we miss the cries of the people around us. Pride is one of the greatest barriers in our relationship with God. Humility, on the other hand, is essential for that relationship with God to unfold. As writer William Law says, pride means death and humility means life. "Love has no more of pride, than light has of darkness; it stands and bears all its fruits from a depth, and root of humility."

LIFE IN ALL. ITS FULLNESS

Another relevant story tells of a reporter visiting a small community of Roman Catholic lay workers. The workers, located in northern California, took in and cared for babies who were dying of AIDS. The reporter was talking with a woman who was holding a pathetically small baby girl who was obviously very ill. When the reporter asked the woman about the baby, she said, "Her mother was a prostitute, a heroin addict, and she didn't want a baby. The baby was born addicted to heroin and infected with AIDS." Then she added, "The baby will probably die soon."

"Then why do you do this?" asked the reporter. "I mean, why did you bring her up here to your community if she is going to die very shortly?" The woman responded without hesitation, "So she will know life in all its fullness."

The reporter was obviously taken aback by this. He was incredulous. With a tone of cynicism in his voice, he said, "How can this pitiful baby know life in its fullness?"

And the caring shepherd of this baby said, "She will know that there are people in this world who love her."

Becoming channels of love is rarely a

convenient affair, but the person alive in

Christ responds, "Here I am. Send me!"

That is what everybody needs to know, isn't it? And those of us who are on the Christian walk must be the channels of that love.

Becoming channels of love, however, is rarely a convenient affair. God is not in the habit of asking us to pick the best time in our schedules to be Christ's love to others. But that's where humility comes in. The person alive in Christ—the person truly walking in meekness—is the one who responds, "Here I am. Send me!" whenever the Lord calls.

Don't misunderstand—I'm not saying that the person willing and able to serve is called to be a doormat. Instead, by following the guidance of the Spirit, that person can know when and whom to serve. It is not God's will to wear us out, and there will always be more needs than we can personally meet. But there are times, if we choose to ignore that gentle tug in the direction the Lord would have us go, that we will miss a great blessing. And so will the person we are called to serve.

GOD, HAVE MERCY

As we continue to grow in our walk with Christ, the ongoing challenge is that we resist becoming smug. Freed from some addiction, having defeated some harmful and shameful sin, we may get comfortable and even cocky, forgetting that what once tripped us up can trip us up again. Problems arise when we stop recognizing and cultivating our awareness of the indwelling Christ. But that's not all. Smugness like this can also keep us from being there for others, especially if we consider ourselves better than them because we've managed to come through to the other side. We must continue to bear fruit, rather than resting on our laurels.

Again, the key is remaining in Christ, and continuing to understand that without the grace of God, we'd be in a great mess ourselves. In the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector found in Luke 18:9-14, Jesus spoke of two men who went to the temple to pray.

The first man, the Pharisee, made the mistake of comparing himself with others, rather than with God's standard of righteousness. He thanked God that he was not like other people. Instead of being humble-minded, he was filled with pride. His self-assurance and self-satisfaction were so blatant that he missed God's mercy. How often are we like the Pharisee, not claiming the gospel of love but comparing ourselves to others? We manipulate life into an acceptable pattern that we can control.

Then there was the tax collector, fully aware of his own failings. He could only stand at a distance. "He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, 'God, have mercy on me, a sinner'" (v. 13). Which one, according to Jesus, do you think went home righteous before God? He said, "For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted" (v. 14).

The tax collector's hesitancy is certainly understandable. As we come into the presence of Christ, there is always some reservation, a quivering inside. Many times we—like the tax collector—cower because of deep feelings of unworthiness. Imagine how Peter and his companions felt when Jesus directed the group to a source of abundant fish after their allnight effort had yielded nothing. Jesus proved his power in the arena of nature and in the work where Peter was a master. Peter was overwhelmed by a sense of divine power and love, which—no surprise—made him feel so small and unworthy that he had to say, "Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man" (Luke 5:8).

I've also had times when I felt I couldn't bear to be in Jesus' presence. I remember a prayer meeting in a hotel room in Beijing in 1978. The Bamboo Curtain was being pulled back just slightly, but most Chinese Christians were still practicing their faith and worshiping underground. In fact, it was dangerous for Christians in that country to meet with Americans. Three Christian couples braved exposure, meeting with a small group of American Christians, of which I was a member. These couples had suffered for their faith—husbands and wives separated for long years, as they were being re-educated for the Communist kingdom. Two of them had been tortured almost to death.

As we prayed together, it was obvious that these people were in a relationship with Jesus far deeper than I had ever imagined possible. Christ was present in that room in such a real way that I felt I couldn't bear it. My own limited life of faith and limited experience with Jesus were made glaringly real. I wanted to cry out like Simon Peter, "Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!"

There have been other experiences. Recently I had a conversation with a young couple who were graduating from seminary. They talked of their return to Bangladesh as missionaries with their three children. I knew the setting into which they were headed, the hardship and danger. But they couldn't wait—their excitement was contagious. They were on the edge of their seats with excitement as they shared their understanding of God's call, and their faces were radiant. I felt I was on a kind of Mount of Transfiguration with this young couple and Jesus. Instead of wanting to build tabernacles to stay there, though, I had an urge to run away. There was something in their commitment, in their willingness to risk everything—including family—for the sake of the kingdom that made me uneasy—that challenged my own discipleship. I knew I was in the presence of Jesus, and I quivered inside. Deep feelings of unworthiness began to rise within me.

It doesn't hurt us to be reminded of our weakness, does it? Though God has given us power, strength, and courage, we must always remember the source. We may believe we have a choice about whether we walk in humility, but for the person alive in Christ, not doing so is not really an option. The more we see of God's greatness, the more we realize who we are, in contrast, and the more we want to focus on God's plans rather than our own.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- Are there any obstacles that prevent you from being more humble or available in your own life? If so, what are they, and how can they be overcome?

- Why is it so important for Christians to model humility to the world?

- Recall a time when you chose to humble yourself rather than seek a reward. What happened next?

THE SHAPING POWER OF THE INDWELLING CHRIST

Day 19

For we are God's workmanship,

created in Christ Jesus to do good works,

which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Eph. 2:10

Back in 1990, my wife, Jerry, gave her brother Randy a bone marrow transplant. His malignancy was so pervasive that the doctors said a transplant was the only hope.

Through that experience, all sorts of amazing and beautiful things happened. At first, though, the doctors were brutally honest. It was going to be tough for Randy; he was going to be brought to the door of death as his marrow was destroyed and his immune system reduced to zero before he received the transplant. Even after that, if the transplant worked, he would still be flirting with death for a long time. He would be vulnerable to all the germs, since he would have no immunity to them. Yet, his only hope was the transplant.

There was excitement and rejoicing when we discovered Jerry was a perfect match for the transplant. Though it was a painful procedure for Jerry, few folks can know the joy she has known, to literally give life to someone who was dying.

I will never forget February 1, 1990, the day when the doctors made the transplant. Jerry was in the hospital room down the hall from Randy. As she was coming out from the anesthesia, her marrow was being fed into Randy's system.When the last drop of the marrow had gone into his system, the nurse said, "That's it, Randy, this is your new birthday. You've been given a new life."

Randy and Jerry gained a special oneness through it all, based on the fact that her life had been able to create life in him. It was delightful to hear them talk about her marrow in him. He would jokingly blame her for his bad moods, anger, or emotional outbursts. Randy lived about two years after that, before the cancer finally got him, but those two years were glorious.

To discover Christian wholeness, it is

absolutely essential for us to claim that

every person is a miracle of existence.

This experience reminds me of the "marrow" of Christ in us: his Spirit. Today, we'll consider that marrow—the indwelling Christ—first as an affirming presence in our lives.

Blessed indeed is the person who does not, or has not, felt the desperate need to be affirmed and accepted by others. I've never known such a person. We spend a great deal of our time and energy attempting to win acceptance. We pretend and put on masks, perform, and seek to prove ourselves worthy. With chameleon-like cunning, we present ourselves as we think others would approve. The time comes, however, when we know the charade must end, and we have to take off our masks.

To discover Christian wholeness, it is absolutely essential for us to claim that every person is a miracle of existence— including us. Yes, a miracle of existence. Jesus said so plainly: "Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows" (Luke 12:6—7). The marvelously liberating message of Christianity is that you are important.

Unlike the pop psychology of today, the Christian faith affirms the fact that we gain our importance through relationship to God, not through relationships to other people. It is that relationship to God, in which we are declared to be precious and ultimately important, that can make our affirmation complete. I don't intend to minimize the importance of interpersonal relationships; rather, I want to emphasize the fact that the spirit aspect of our being requires Spirit affirmation.

Are you familiar with a movement called Emmaus? It was launched in the United States by The Upper Room. At the heart of this movement is a seventy-two-hour experience of people living together in community, hearing numerous talks on the grace of God, seeking to appropriate the meaning of that core message of Christianity. This seventy-two-hour Walk to Emmaus closes with the participants having the opportunity to share what they have personally experienced during the retreat and how they intend to incorporate that experience into the whole of their lives.

My daughter, Kim, had a profound experience of selfdiscovery there. For the first time, she was able to see herself as God had seen her all along: not just as someone's daughter, wife, or mother, but simply God's beloved child. Here's how she described it:

What a remarkable experience of love—God's love transmitted through the love of others—for me. Me—the unique, unrepeatable miracle of God that I finally understood myself to be (even though I had been told I was that by my parents for longer than I could remember). Kim—not Maxie's daughter, not John's wife, not Nathan's or Maggie's or Hannah's mother, but Kim. It was as though a bright cloud had descended on me and I heard God's voice saying, "this is my beloved child." I knew who I was even if everyone else saw just Kim. . . .

Kim finally realized that—as we had been saying her entire life—she was a unique, unrepeatable, miracle of God. It was, in her own words, a "watershed weekend;" suddenly, she knew who she was. Praise God—for Kim, yes—but for the possibility that belongs to all of us.

At Emmaus events through the years, many people have shared the overwhelming awareness of God's love and acceptance. This beautiful realization is witnessed over and over again, yet each time it's fresh and unique—it arises from the miracle of existence of each person. Sooner or later, we will all be faced with the question of whether we believe it—or not.

Hear this, friend: the path to self-acceptance is not through conformity to the world's ideas of who you ought to be; it is grounded in God's unqualified yes to you in Jesus Christ. There is a hole in God's heart that only you can fill. You are already loved as much as you can be. Let me say that plainly: anything that needs to be changed, he can deal with, and if not in this life, then in the Resurrection of the dead.

The unfortunate thing is that it's not enough to experience the love and acceptance of God on one occasion.Ongoing affirmation comes as we accept the fact that God knows us thoroughly and loves us totally. Knowing that we are pardoned, accepted, and affirmed by God is the ongoing dynamic that makes our acceptance possible.

A FORGIVING AND HEALING PRESENCE

Let's look now to the fact that the indwelling Christ is a forgiving and healing presence.

There is a close relationship between the forgiving and healing ministry of Jesus. Mark 2:1-12 tells a story that makes this intimate link. The man in the story, the recipient of Jesus' forgiveness and healing, was a paralytic. The picture is at once pathetic yet hopeful, tragic yet heroic. We are introduced to a victim, an immobilized man carried about on a stretcher. Yet his courageous and hopeful friends wouldn't cease believing that there was help. They were bold in their pursuit of healing— bursting through the ceiling of the house where Jesus was teaching in order to get their sick comrade into Jesus' presence.

What happened next astounded those present, as it may astound us if we give it thought. Jesus, seeing the faith of the man and the four fellows who brought him, announced to the paralytic, "Son, your sins are forgiven" (Mark 2:5). The men must have wondered what was going on. They didn't bring him to Jesus to have his sins absolved; instead, they were focused on the poor fellow's inability to walk. The truth is, they must also have been deeply puzzled and shocked—as were others in the crowd—at the blasphemy of such an announcement. "Who can forgive sins but God alone?" (v. 7).

The interesting thing is that no one doubted what was going on; they questioned who was doing it. Knowing that, Jesus completed his act of mercy and affirmed his self-awareness, making his mission clear: he healed the paralytic. Mark records that Jesus explained his reason for the healing:

He said to them, "Why are you thinking these things? Which is easier: to say to the paralytic, 'Your sins are forgiven,' or to say, 'Get up, take your mat and walk'? But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins. . . ." He said to the paralytic, "I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home." (w. 8-11)

The fellow sprang to his feet, picked up his bed and walked away, leaving no doubt about Jesus' power both to forgive and heal.

We might have our doubts about Jesus connecting spiritual and physical disease in a cause-effect fashion, but there's no room to question the connection between forgiveness and healing. Of course, our spiritual health is linked to our physical and mental well-being—as the frontiers of modern medicine are just beginning to reveal—that's why we talk about the indwelling Christ as a healing presence.

James K. Wagner has written a rather definitive book on how to have an intentional healing ministry in the church. He titled it Blessed to Be a Blessing. Just before the book was published, Jim happened to see a painting by my wife and was captivated by it—as many have been. He asked that it be used as the cover for his book on healing. I understand why he asked: the painting is an impressionistic design of color and movement, dominantly blue from deep shades to translucent light. The person in the painting, faintly outlined, is not obvious at a glance, but is distinct and focal once really seen. The person stands in the swirl of color and movement surrounded by light and life that is beyond, yet you know that there is a power that is energizing and giving the person life.

Jerry called her painting "Grace," and wrote this about it for the book:

In this painting, I have sought to express my experience of God's love as stated in the hymn "I Sought the Lord." One day I was overwhelmed by the realization that while I sought the Lord, all along he was seeking me.

I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew

He moved my soul to seek Him, seeking me;

It was not I that found, O Savior true;

No, I was found of Thee.

Thou didst reach forth Thy hand and mine enfold;

I walked and sank not on the storm-vexed sea;

'Twas not so much that I on Thee took hold,

As Thou, dear Lord, on me.

I find, I walk, I love, but oh, the whole

Of love is but my answer, Lord, to Thee!

For Thou wert long beforehand with my soul,

Always Thou lovedst me.

Though Jerry wasn't thinking of healing when she did the painting, she easily understood the connection: the ministry of healing is a manifestation of the grace and power of God's love in our lives. And the painting captured the moment of her response to God's love, which is always a healing experience.

It is true: our response to God's love is always a forgiving and healing experience, and the indwelling Christ keeps that love alive in our lives. That is what grace is all about.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- Has Jesus been an affirming presence in your life? Has he been a healing one? Describe your experience of the indwelling Christ.

- Think of a time in your life when you pursued something with all your energy, like the friends of the paralytic sought Christ for their comrade's healing. What motivated your search? How might your energies be focused more on seeking Jesus?

- Why do you think Jesus so clearly connected physical healing and forgiveness?

WHAT CHRIST HAS BEEN AND DONE FOR US

Day 20

If a man remains in me and I in

him, he will bear much fruit;

apart from me you can do nothing.

John 15:5

In John 15, Jesus gives us a powerful symbol for participating in the work of God. The image is that of a grapevine, and it's worth a closer look. The vine grows along the ground or attaches its tendrils to another tree or a frame. From the vine, little branches shoot out, intertwining as they climb. Then, from these branches, the clusters of grapes come forth. A cultivated grapevine may grow very long and high, with many bunches of fruit hanging down.

The grapevine had long been a symbol for Israel, God's people. On the temple in Jerusalem, a huge grapevine was carved into the stone of the entrance. Its trunk rose higher than a person, and its branches spread out further above, adorned with rich gold leaves and bunches of gilded grapes. Moreover, during the brief time of Israel's revolt against Rome, the coins minted bore the grapevine as the symbol of the nation. The grapevine served as an image of hope that the people could be something fruitful for their God.

In reality, however, that grapevine became a reminder of failure. The Hebrew prophets often employed this figure of speech in terms of judgment. Consider Isaiah 5:1-10; there, Israel becomes the vine that had not produced the fruit God expected. Instead of choice produce, wild grapes had sprung forth, worthless for either wine or food. God's people, by their own efforts, could not fulfill their task in the world.

Jesus, however, employed the symbol in a new way. The conversation in chapter 15 of John's Gospel on the night before the crucifixion could have taken place near the Temple, under the light of the Passover moon, with its beam shining upon the engraved vine. Jesus was using the symbol they knew so well to call them to a life they had not known before.

Alive in Christ, we are called

to be instruments of blessing for

those Jesus said would be blessed.

It is sobering to realize that even mighty works in the name of Christ will come to nothing if they are not grounded in this essential order: not I, but Christ; not me for God, but God for and through me. When we make this connection, then even the smallest actions by the most limited of people become great contributions to the kingdom.

Consider this challenge: being alive in Christ means that what Christ has been and done for us, we must be and do for others. And I don't know a more definitive word to describe Jesus than compassion. A Christ-centered life is a life of compassion.

DOING CHESED

The fourteenth-century mystic Walter Hilton taught that the spiritual life is based on the twin virtues of meekness and charity. I believe those virtues express themselves in compassion. When we are meek and when we love others, compassion pours out of us naturally.

I didn't formally study Hebrew in divinity school, but my Old Testament professor, Dr. Boone Bowen, introduced me to the richness of that language. His favorite word—which he contended was descriptive of God and was to characterize all of God's people—was chesed. My memory rings with the deep, bass resonance of Dr. Bowen's sounding of that Hebrew word. But more, my mind is filled with the right meaning of it as he interpreted it for his students. Chesed is sometimes translated as "compassion," sometimes as "mercy," sometimes as "pity." Dr. Bowen kept reminding us of the inadequacy of one-word translations of chesed in English, Greek, or Latin. What is missing in every one-word translation is the dimension of action that the Hebrew language implies. The Hebrew talks of "doing chesed with someone." The word is often connected with mishpat, the Hebrew word we translate "right" or 'justice." So Micah 6:8 reads, "What does the Lord require of you except to do chesed (compassion) and to love mishpat (justice). . . ."Today's NIV translation of that verse is a good one: "And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God."

Chesed is more than a sentiment of love and pity. It demands a "volitional attitude." That is what distinguishes biblical love from current usage of the word. Biblical love includes justice and even judgment. That is the reason I identify compassion as an outward expression of the twin virtues of Christian spirituality: meekness and love.

I want now to identify two explicit aspects of compassion which have special relevance to our being and doing for others what Christ has been and done for us: sharing the suffering of others and acting to bring justice to the world.

SOLIDARITY WITH THE POOR

As Matthew Fox has so well said, "Compassion is not knowing about the suffering and pain of others. It is, in some way, knowing that pain, entering into it, sharing it, and tasting it in so far as possible." We are not simply called to know that others suffer, or to assess the painful situations in which they may be; we are to feel the other's feelings. And not only feel the other's feelings, but act on behalf of that person, too.

This is at least part of what it means to be in solidarity with the poor and oppressed of the world. But that is so difficult, even for those who feel deeply the call to be so identified. I am working on that in my own life and am constantly driven to confession of and deep penitence for my failure. I have found, though, that there are three ports of entry in experiencing solidarity which are proving meaningful to me. The first is direct action. Where possible, I must act. The Epistle of James says it clearly:

Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, "Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. . . . You see that a person is justified by what he does and not by faith alone. (2:15-17, 24)

The second port of entry into solidarity with the poor and oppressed is the stewardship of my money and other resources. I control the way I spend my money and I make the decision as to how I will use the resources that are mine.

The third expression of solidarity with the poor and oppressed is prayer, especially intercession—seeking to identify with and reach out to the hurting of the world. In a mysterious way that we can never understand, prayer allows us to not only identify with, but also take upon ourselves the suffering of others. So rather than being private, intercession is intensely social.

Prayer, then, can be an expression of our greatest love. It can also be a gateway to solidarity. Instead of keeping pain away from us, loving prayer leads us into the suffering of God and of others. The deeper our love of God, the more we will suffer. The more we suffer, the more we will pray.

Our suffering and the suffering of others is embraced by the compassionate Christ, in a way that we may never fully understand; our intercession, through identity with suffering, becomes a channel of Christ's liberating power.

INSTRUMENTS OF BLESSING

There's another aspect of compassion that characterizes our being Christ to others. It is inherently social, leading to justice-making action in the public and political areas of life.

Alive in Christ, we are called to be instruments of blessing for those who Jesus said would be blessed. His Beatitudes form the charter for the kingdom in which we dwell, living in him. These Beatitudes outline the core values that are to be incorporated into our lives, and for which we must contend on behalf of others. The poor in spirit and in substance are blessed; they know their need for God. Comfort is promised to those who have learned to cry for the world. The meek are the ones to whom the earth belongs, and they will eventually possess it. Those who hunger for justice and who show mercy will find meaning and will receive mercy. The pure in heart, not the manipulators and controllers, will see God. As for the peacemakers, they will be blessed and will be called God's own children. For the grand finale, Jesus blesses those who suffer unjustly for the cause of compassionate justice. To them he promises the kingdom.

Being Christ to others means we are instruments of blessing for those who Jesus said would be blessed, and this calls often for political action and social witness that expresses outrage against systems and institutions that take no account of the needs of the poor and oppressed. We need to consider this call in a very specific way:

As Christ has been a forgiving presence in our lives, we must be a forgiving presence in the lives of others. As Christ has been an affirming presence in our lives, we must be an affirming presence in the lives of others.

As Christ has comforted us and given us hope, we must comfort and give hope to others.

As Christ ministered to the "least of these" and gave his life as a ransom for many, we must be his presence to the poor, marginalized, and sexually broken; to the immigrant strangers in our midst, prisoners, homeless, the forgotten, and the forsaken.

As Christ has been present with us in the valley of the shadow of death, in the agony of personal tragedy and loss, so we must be Christ's presence for others when they are in the valley, and when hope has gone from their lives.

Jesus Christ always lived what he preached, and that meant compassion for all. But here's one more thing to think about: Christ's compassion played out not just in his actions, but also in the way he did things. In Mark 7:31-37, there's a story about how the crowds brought a deaf man with a speech impediment to Jesus for healing. And here we get another perspective on the Messiah. Verse 33 says that he took the man aside from the multitude. That implies far more than it says. Author and philosopher D. Elton Trueblood refers to this act of taking the man away from the crowd as an example of the "courtesy of Jesus." It is at least that, but far more. Jesuswas not willing to embarrass the man. Already, no doubt, he was victimized by low self-esteem, by the embarrassment that comes from stammering speech, and by living in a world of silence. Jesus was aware of his suffering. He would not contribute further to making this man a spectacle of pitiful humanity. So he took him aside. The feelings of the deaf man came first.

Jesus ministers to us in the same way. His ministry is personal. He deals with each one of us, one by one. He meets us at the point of our deepest need, perhaps at a point where we are embarrassed, feeling with us our estrangement and separation, our sense of despair and futility. Christ is for the world, but he is also for me. The gospel becomes vibrantly alive in our hearts only as we claim this fact of Jesus' ministry. If we can insert our own name in the extravagant affirmation, John 3:16, then we are on the way: "For God so loved _________ that he gave his one and only Son."

As the understanding of that extravagant love sinks deeper and deeper into our hearts, the easier it is to pass it on.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- On a scale of one to ten (ten being the highest), how compassionate would you say you are? Why do you think so?

- What does it mean to you to "be Christ to others"? Is it difficult for you to do so? Why or why not?

- Think now of a time that someone else showed the love of Christ to you. How did that affect you?

DYING AND RISING WITH CHRIST

Day 21

When Christ, who is your life, appears,

then you also will appear with him in glory.

Col. 3:4

Undoubtedly, modern science has been full of accomplishments. But one of the most revolutionary is the mapping of genes. Our DNA—that awesome, complex, and individual set of genetic instructions used in the development and functioning of all human cells—is unrepeatable in another human being. And the wonder goes beyond that.

The same DNA permits a caterpillar to become a pupa and the pupa to become a butterfly. But here's a fascinating fact: at the pupa stage, the caterpillar degenerates into somewhat of a DNA soup. It loses its structure and has to hang around believing that something good can come of the mess.

Wonder why? Because a butterfly is not just a caterpillar with wings on it.

The evolution from caterpillar to butterfly has long been a suggestive metaphor for any kind of transformation. And it is certainly a challenging symbol for the new life that is ours in Christ. With that, however, we have to remember that a butterfly is not just a caterpillar with wings on it. And we are not the same as we once were, either.

As Christians, we are new persons in Christ; death and Resurrection are part of the ongoing rhythm of our lives. Paul contends that nothing less than a new creature perfect in Christ Jesus (Col. 1:28), "created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness" (Eph. 4:24), renewed according to the image of him who created him (Col. 3:10), is the aim of the Christian life.

A number of other phrases describe this transformation into new life, especially in the second and third chapters of Colossians. You have died with Christ and have been "buried with him in baptism." You were also "raised with him through your faith in the power of God. God made you alive with Christ" (2:12-13, italics mine); "you have been raised with Christ" (3:1).

Note the emphatic underscoring of accomplished reality. It is a settled fact that we are dead with Christ. And there is no question about it: we are also risen with him. We have died to all Christ died to; we are raised to all he was raised to. We now have to live out in practice what has already happened in fact.

We see how emphatically Paul states the case when he refers to the future event of Resurrection not as the Resurrection of the dead, but as the Resurrection of life in which Christians already participate, hidden with Christ in God: "When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory" (Col. 3:4). Paul's common phrases "in Christ" and "with Christ"—which describe the new person—almost merge. The new life with Christ, which is received by faith and acted out in baptism, is demonstrated in conduct as we live in Christ.

The Christian is a new person united with Christ. The two overwhelming events through which Jesus passed into the power of endless life were death and Resurrection. Those who are united with him must reproduce in their personal spiritual histories these two events. To be in and with Christ is to be identified with him in death and Resurrection.

How we look at the cross—at Christ on the cross—is a huge factor, perhaps the biggest factor in determining how we live.

TAKING UP THE CROSS

When Jerry and I experienced the Passion Play in Oberammergau, Germany, I remembered a story from an earlier performance of this once-each-decade event. An American businessman was backstage following a performance visiting with Anton Lang, the actor who played the role of Christ. Seeing the cross Lang had carried in the drama, the businessman seized the photo opportunity. Handing the camera to his wife, he instructed her to take his picture when he lifted the cross to his shoulder. But to his surprise and chagrin, he could hardly budge it from the floor.

"I don't understand," he said to Lang. "I thought it would be hollow. Why do you carry such a heavy cross?" Lang's reply explains why this play draws people from all over the world to that little Bavarian village every decade. "If I did not feel the weight of his cross, I could not play the part."

We must also, however, feel the Resurrection. Not only do we share in the death of Christ, we share in his Resurrection."Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him" (Rom. 6:8). The new life into which we enter by conversion is nothing else than the life of Christ himself, Paul insists. He speaks of "the life of Jesus" being carried around in our bodies (2 Cor. 4:10). The "law of the Spirit" which overcomes "the law of sin and death" brings the life which is in Christ Jesus (Rom. 8:1-2).

This new life is not different from the old life only in degree; it is a new kind, a new quality of life. Paul makes the radical claim that this new life is nothing less than a new creation (2 Cor. 5:17). Sharing in Christ's Resurrection means being raised to newness of life.

This means at least two things. One, death has no power over us. The risen and exalted Lord conquered death. We do not wait for eternal life; it is ours now. Risen with Christ, we have the glorious privilege of beginning now the life with Christ which will continue eternally.

Sometimes we tend to discredit thoughts about life after death as mere sentiment. Not so—it is the heart of our faith that God will finish what he has begun, and nothing is finished in this world until God is finished with it. John boldly claims that God will not be finished until he brings into perfect existence "a new heaven and a new earth" (Rev. 21:1). Death has no power over us because in Christ, we have begun that new life which transcends death and is being perfected by God.

Sharing Christ's risen life means a second thing: the power which raised Jesus from the dead is also our power. So this is our challenge and our thrilling opportunity: to participate in the working power of God in the past brought into the present. This is the paramount miracle: that God's immeasurable power in Christ is available now to redeem us from sin, energize our wills, heal the sick, drive out demons, renew our spirits, and reconcile our relationships.

Is this our vision of reality? Or have we reduced our faith to an intellectual conception, a set of dogmas, a religious system to which we give assent and which we practice by rote with no impact or power in our daily lives? The power which raised Jesus from the dead is available to us. There are those who are claiming that power, receiving it for the transformation of their lives.

Our Christian faith journey begins with our acceptance of the incredible fact of our unconditional acceptance by God. Nothing we do can earn or prove our worth. Our value in God's sight has been affirmed once and for all by the gift of Jesus Christ in death on our behalf. We continue on our Christian journey as forgiven and affirmed people, as we allow our lives to be shaped by the indwelling Christ who keeps affirming our worth and impelling us to be Christ to others, demonstrating the rhythm of death and Resurrection.

THE ESSENCE OF THE GOSPEL

The radiant glory of God shines in the face of Jesus Christ—this is the incredibility of the Incarnation. The radiant glory of God shining in the face of Jesus Christ has shined in our hearts—this is the incredibility of the Christian experience. The radiant glory of God shining in the face of Jesus Christ which has shined in our hearts is ours to declare—this is the incredibility of the Christian witness. All together, remember, these three truths define the essence of the gospel and its call upon us. Has this study given you a deeper understanding of who Christ is, what he has done for us, and how the radiant glory of God can be ours, too? How have those revelations changed you? Recall the story about Mao Tse-tung, and how "the word almost literally became flesh." With Jesus, however, the Word truly did become flesh. Jesus is central to the gospel because he is God's invitation to salvation and eternal life.

ALIVE IN CHRIST

Recall that Jesus came for one purpose, and one purpose alone: to bring himself to us, and while doing so, to bring God as well. Not only does Christ justify us by providing full pardon for our sins, but he also indwells us to give us the power to be and do all those things God requires us to be and do. As you have taken part in this study, have you seen new evidence of Christ being alive in you, empowering you to do the things God has called you to? In what ways? What can you do to further fan the flames of that indwelling fire? Remember that your life is now "hidden with Christ in God."Yes, it is an extravagant claim, but it is backed up by Scripture.

CONSTANTLY ABIDING

Keep in mind the difference between simply following Jesus and being in Christ. We have the opportunity to dwell there, to constantly abide, and the benefits are many. For one thing, the guidance of the indwelling Christ is consistent and ongoing. Jesus is always there, leading us in the way that is best for us. But constantly abiding also means that we are continuously being renewed. As Paul reminds us in Second Corinthians 5:17, "he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" The offer of life is not just a biblical story; rather, it's ours for the taking today. The closer we walk with Jesus—the more we abide—the more the Spirit within us produces life. So how is your own walk these days? Is there evidence that you have been "constantly abiding"?

HUMBLE AND AVAILABLE

Remember the touching stories of Speaker of the House Sam Rayburn, who gave up breakfast with the president so he could be there for a reporter, and the woman who cared for an AIDS-infected, terminally ill baby so that the child could know that she was loved. Though our circumstances may not always be as dramatic, the person alive in Christ—the one truly walking in meekness rather than pride—is the one who responds, "Here I am. Send me!" whenever the Lord calls. Keep in mind, however, that God has not called us to be doormats for others, and this is another great reason to remain tuned in to the work of the Spirit in our lives. God has great things for us to do, as long as we remain humble and willing to do them. What has this week's study taught you about the level of humility in your own life?

THE SHAPING POWER OF THE INDWELLING CHRIST

God has so much to offer! Christ in us is both an affirming and a healing presence. Through him, we can know that we have been given new life, that his "marrow" matches our own. But we can also know that we can be healed and forgiven, as well. Recall the close relationship that Jesus demonstrated between forgiving and healing through the story of the paralytic. It is the same today. As you have continued this study, have you experienced new levels of healing, forgiveness, or affirmation? Also, recall that in order to discover Christian wholeness, we must claim that every person is a miracle of existence—including us. Have you thanked God for the miracle of your existence lately?

WHAT CHRIST HAS BEEN AND DONE FOR US

Never forget that being alive in Christ means that what Christ has been and done for us, we must be and do for others. The definitive word here is compassion. A Christ-centered life, then, is a life of compassion. That takes not only knowing about the pain and suffering of others, but actually sharing it. The way of compassion is not always an easy road, but it is the one to which we are called all the same. Direct action is one method of identifying with the oppressed, and intercessory prayer is another. The deeper our love of God, the more we will suffer. The more we suffer, the more we will pray. So, how have you been doing at being Christ to others during this study? Are there any areas in particular in which God has pricked your heart? If so, what have you done about it?

DAY 22: CHRIST FREES US AND FITS US

DAY 23: CLAIMING THE PROMISE

DAY 24: THE SUREST PATH OF ALL

DAY 25: THE HANDS AND FEET OF JESUS

DAY 26: COMMUNION THROUGH CONVERSATION

DAY 27: PLANTED BY THE WATER

DAY 28: CHOOSING TO BE WHOLE

CHRIST FREES US AND FITS US

Day 22

And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead

is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will

also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit. . . .

Rom. 8:11

Among Christians in Africa, the New Testament word for redemption translates as "God took our heads out." It's a rather awkward phrase, but when you trace it back to the nineteenth century, when slave trading was practiced, the meaning becomes powerful.White men invaded African villages and carried men, women, and children off into slavery. Each slave had an iron collar buckled around his or her neck, and the collar was attached to a chain. The chained slaves would be driven to the coastlines and shipped to England and the United States.

From time to time, as the chain of slaves would make its way to the coast, a relative, loved one, or friend would recognize someone who had been captured as a slave and would offer a ransom for the captors to remove the collar and free the person. Thus the word for redemption: "God took our heads out."

No matter how we state it, though, no matter the image we use, the word redemption means that God's action—the sending of Jesus Christ—sets us free from the bondage of sin, guilt, and certain death.

The New Testament offers all sorts of images for Christ freeing us. One of the most dramatic was used by Paul. He wrote to the Colossians, "For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins" (Col. 1:13-14).

Here is the picture of redemption in a person: a young woman, thirty years old, finished her theological studies at Asbury Seminary. Before she got there, however, she had a life-changing encounter. After graduating from college and being on a fast career track, she found herself on a fast life track, as well. And that fast track ended in alcohol and cocaine addiction. She woke up one day in a hospital—and learned she'd been there for seven days.

The Lord came to her there. Three months of treatment— and three months of spiritual therapy with a caring minister in a Christian church that reached out to recovering folks —marked the beginning of a life of faithfully following Jesus.When she spoke in chapel a few months before graduation, she was radiant, excited about the life of ministry that lay ahead of her. She told her story and then simply said, "I don't know how it happened, only that it did happen, so I can sing about it: I once was lost but now I'm found, was blind but now I see."

This radiant woman is living proof that the full measure of the blessing of Christ means that he comes to free us. But what about you? What are the areas in which you haven't yet found freedom? What is holding you back from receiving it?

Do you feel burdened by guilt? Do you feel heaviness or pain in your heart because there is a severed relationship that needs reconciliation? Do you feel helpless because you are held in the tenacious grip of a debilitating habit? Is your energy drained because you live too close to the line of moral compromise, preoccupied with sexual lust or addiction to pornography? In your heart of hearts, do you know that you are more than racially prejudiced and that your feelings verge on hatred? Does your pride often put you in the position of thinking more highly of yourself than you ought to, looking down your nose at others?

We could go on and on. You may want to stop reading now and probe your own heart. Remember that as you do, God will meet you wherever you are. The point I am underscoring, however, is that we all need deliverance. And the good news is that Christ delivers. He comes to free us—but that's not all.

CHRIST COMES TO FIT US

Christ comes not only to free us, but also to fit us for kingdom living.

Paul begins the eighth chapter of his Epistle to the Romans with the word "therefore." It's a seemingly insignificant word, but pay attention to it—always—when you are reading Scripture. Go back to what precedes the word, because only in knowing what has been said before will you know the full meaning of what is about to be said. In this case, Paul has been talking about his own plight, his enslavement to sin, and his inability to break free of the chains that have bound him. He has talked about the death of Jesus Christ as God's gift of love for our forgiveness and freedom from condemnation.

In Romans 7:19-20, Paul agonizingly opens his heart."For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it." Paul goes on to say that the struggle that is going on in his soul is really a civil war, and that he is being brought under captivity to the law of sin. He groans and moans: "What a wretched man I am!" And then he raises that anguishing question: "Who will rescue me from this body of death?" (v. 24). He answers that question immediately: "Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!" (v. 25). Then he opens chapter 8 with that glorious word: "Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."

Do you see the chasm of difference between Paul's condition that he expresses so dramatically in chapter 7—"What a wretched man I am!"—and the beginning of chapter 8, "Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus"?

We can't give our sins to Jesus;

We give ourselves to Jesus

and he takes away our sins.

How do you leap over that chasm? You don't! Here is a profound, redeeming truth: we don't give our sins to Christ. Perhaps someone has told you to do that. "Just give your sins to Jesus." But that isn't it—that's impossible. We can't give our sins to Jesus; if we could, we would all be saved. We give ourselves to Jesus and he takes away our sins. He fits us for kingdom living.

There is a story about a man who was tired and weak all the time, constantly drained. Finally, he decided to visit his doctor. "Doctor," he said, "I feel totally exhausted. I don't seem to have any energy. I have a chronic headache. I feel worn out all the time. What's the best thing I can do?"

The doctor knew about the man's wild and fast-paced lifestyle. "What's the best thing you can do? You can go home after work every day, eat a nutritious meal, get a good night's rest, and stop running around and carousing all night—that's the best thing you can do."

The man pondered for a moment, then asked, "What's the next-best thing I can do?"

Too often we choose the next-best thing because we're not willing to be who God called us to be. We are not willing for Christ to fit us for the kingdom. But listen, friends—holiness is not an option for God's people. There ought to be something about us Christians that distinguishes us in our ethical understanding, in our moral lives, in how we relate to others, and in the way we look at and regard the poor and the oppressed.

Christ will make that difference in us. If we will yield to him, he will fit us for the kingdom.

"DO YOU WANT TO BE HOLY?"

I remember a time in my own life when this idea became significant to me. It was the early 1960s, and I was a young Methodist preacher in Mississippi. I was the organizing pastor of a congregation that had known amazing growth and success.

The fellowship of that congregation, however, was splintered by my involvement in the civil rights movement. I didn't think there was anything radical about my taking part, but many folks in the church could not understand my commitment and participation. I couldn't understand their lack of understanding. To me, at least, the gospel seemed clear.

Eventually, the pressure, stress, and tension wore me out. I was physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted and ready to throw in the towel. Then I went to a week-long retreat—a Christian ashram—led by the world-famous missionary evangelist E. Stanley Jones. I will never forget going to the altar one evening to have Brother Stanley lay hands on me and pray for me. He knew my story, and as I knelt, he asked, "Do you want to be whole? Do you want to be holy?"

It was a shocking question. That was a single, sanctifying experience in my life, changing forever the direction of my ministry. In that moment, I realized that I am as holy as I want to be. And through the years since, I have constantly asked myself: Do I want to be holy ? Am I willing to yield ?

Christ still has the power to show up wherever we are and to offer us whatever we need. Sometimes that means freeing us and sometimes it means fitting us. Remember, though, that in the process of fitting us for his kingdom, God will put his ways into our hearts as well as write them on our minds. This is, after all, the eternal mystery of grace. Eventually we find that we want to do what pleases God.

For many years I was confused about the word of Paul to the Philippians: "Continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose" (Phil. 2:12-13). In our English language, the words are contradictory. How can we work out our salvation and, at the same time, allow God to work within us to will and to act out his good purpose? But then I learned that the Greek word Paul uses for "work out" in verse 12 has the idea of bringing something to completion. He is saying, then, "Don't stop halfway." Don't accept grace as a way to just get in on the Christian life; accept it as the way to stay in with freedom and joy.

One last thing: this holy lifestyle requires determination, and it must be noted that having good intentions about the way you want to live is not the same as living intentionally. Shakespeare was right when he said, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." Living intentionally—deciding to be a person alive in Christ and actually carrying through with it— means that we deliberately, self-consciously resolve on a certain course for our lives. It means following in the way of Jesus, who said of his life, "I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again" (John 10:18). It means being tuned in to the Spirit who is at work in the world, and becoming self-conscious instruments of the Spirit's ministry to people. It means translating our good intentions into flesh and blood—and allowing Jesus to continue to both free us and fit us.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- If you didn't actually stop to probe your heart regarding the questions in today's lesson, please do so now. Pray for God's revelation, rather than simply going by your own insights.

- How do you understand the process by which Christ "fits us" for kingdom living? In what ways can we help—or hinder—that process?

- How has Christ been "fitting" you in your own life?

CLAIMING THE PROMISE

Day 23

I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do

what I have been doing. He will do even greater things

than these, because I am going to the Father.

John 14:12

The pages of the Old and the New Testaments are punctuated with promises—all sorts of promises, including God's very offer of life. The New Testament, however, is especially rich in this area; many of the promises come from Jesus himself.

- Because I live, you also will live. (John 14:19)

- Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.

- (Heb. 13:5)

- I have come that they may have life, and have it to

- the full. (John 10:10)

- Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened,

- and I will give you rest. (Matt. 11:28)

- But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit

- comes on you. (Acts 1:8)

And then, one of the most fantastic promises of all in John 14:12: "I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father."

Isn't that a breathtaking statement? If this is even remotely possible, then mustn't we admit that we have never taken Jesus seriously? The least we have to confess is that we have certainly been satisfied with far less than he has in mind for us as his followers.

Do you believe it? Don't answer too quickly. Do you believe it enough to start claiming this promise?

CONSIDER THE SOURCE

The message of John 14:12 becomes even more dramatic when we consider the source. It was Jesus himself—the man who came to save the world, the man who forgave and loved, the man who washed his disciples' feet. He was also the man who made the lame walk and the blind see; the man who calmed the storm and held little children on his lap and blessed them. He ate with sinners and flung his life in the face of the rampant prejudice of his day by conversing with the Samaritan woman at the well. He finished all the work God gave him to do, and is now seated at the right hand of the Father, crowned with glory and honor. Can you believe it? That's the man— Jesus—who said to you and me, "You will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father."

Charles Schulz once drew a Peanuts cartoon with Snoopy, that hound of heaven, saying of Woodstock, that would-be bird of paradise, "Woodstock is going to be a great eagle."Then in the next frame, Snoopy says, "He is going to soar thousands of feet above the ground." Woodstock takes off into the air, and as Snoopy looks on, he sees the bird upside down, whirling around crazily. So Snoopy has second thoughts. In the third frame, he says, "Well, maybe hundreds of feet above the ground. . . . " But the words hardly escape his mouth before Woodstock plummets to the ground and lies there on his back, looking dazed. Snoopy concludes, "Maybe he will be one of those eagles who just walks around."

Isn't it amazing how quickly we settle for less than is promised and far less than is possible? Our problem is that we trust Jesus with some things, but we need to trust him with all things.

MORE THAN YOU THINK YOU ARE

It is important to be reminded that you are more than you think you are. I think that's at least a part of what Jesus is saying in today's Scripture.

I read recently of an elderly bachelor and an old maid who started dating. Each had lived alone for many years, but gradually the old gentleman recognized a real fondness and a definite attachment to his friend. He was shy, though, and afraid to tell her his feelings. Finally one day he mustered up the courage to say, "Let's get married!" Surprised, she threw up her hands and shouted, "It's a wonderful idea—but who in the world would have us?"

It's so easy to sink into that kind of self-concept, isn't it? When I'm feeling down on myself, when depression threatens to turn the sky of my life into dark clouds of gloom; or when I sense I'm becoming preoccupied with failure, I try to remember the Eighth Psalm. Do you know it?

When I consider your heavens,

the work of your fingers,

the moon and the stars,

which you have set in place,

what is man that you are mindful of him,

the son of man that you care for him?

You made him a little lower than the heavenly beings

and crowned him with glory and honor. (Ps. 8:3-5)

If I can put this word of the psalmist together with what Jesus said, then I can know that I am more than I think I am.

You may be thinking, "How can I believe that I am more than I think I am?" Listen: you are important to God. In fact, you are a unique, unrepeatable miracle of God. Not to believe this is a sin of disbelief that causes much dysfunction, emotional illness, and spiritual impotence. You are important to God. You have that on the authority of God's Word. It's in the book! Don't you remember? Jesus said it himself. Not even one sparrow falls to the earth without the Father noticing it, and you are of more value than many sparrows. He went even further than that, saying that even the hairs on your head are numbered. That's the witness of Scripture—you are important to God. Let me express it one other way. God loves each of us as though we are the only person in the world to love. If you were the only person in the world, God still would have sent his Son to save you.

Some time ago, Jerry attended a women's retreat led by a Roman Catholic nun, Sister Susan. A few days after returning from the retreat, Jerry received a letter from Sister Susan which concluded with this prayer, "Oh God, help me to believe the truth about myself, no matter how beautiful it is."

What a prayer! Does it shock you? "Oh God, help me to believe the truth about myself, no matter how beautiful it is."Praying that prayer will help you claim the promise of Jesus: you are more than you think you are.

SOMETHING WE CAN BE AND DO

There is another affirmation that we must consider: there is something we can be and do, but will never be and do apart from Jesus Christ. I believe this, too, is part of what Jesus is saying in his promise about us doing greater works.

Let me share a story. Two of the most dynamic and powerful Christians I know are Abel and Frieda Hendricks of South Africa. Abel is a Methodist preacher and Frieda is a Christian educator. Abel was the two-time president of the Methodist Church in Southern Africa and recipient of the 1980 World Methodist Peace Award. He and Frieda received the 1986 Upper Room Citation. They are among the most dedicated Christians I have ever known.

You are important to God.

In fact, you are a unique,

unrepeatable miracle of God.

Abel went to jail a number of times for his opposition to apartheid and for his commitment to solidarity with the poor and the racially oppressed of South Africa, a nation whose political system denied almost every basic human right to the vast majority of the population. Abel was identified by the government as "Cape Coloured," which was one step above the status of blacks in South Africa's rigid social structure.

To offer a morsel of appeasement, the South African government devised a system that would involve the Asians and Coloureds in separate branches of parliament, intentionally seeking to keep the majority black race in helpless oppression. Abel could have played a role in the new system, but his commitment to the tremendous majority who continued to be oppressed led him to oppose it.

Abel had written a pastoral letter to the Methodist people asking them to boycott the new elections as an expression of solidarity with the poor and as a witness against apartheid. In the midst of the struggle, white leaders came to Abel and urged him to rescind his letter.

The Hendrickses were poor; they had no security, so the white government leaders thought they could persuade Abel by appealing to his self-interests. He was not many years away from retirement, had no property of his own, and had a very uncertain future. They offered him a retirement home, fully paid for, if he would simply be quiet.

I'm sure Abel's smile—illuminating a humility that resonated with confidence and power—was one of the most disarming the officials had ever seen. He withstood the temptation. "In my Father's house are many mansions," he said. "I dare not risk losing my house in heaven for anything you might offer me on earth."

On one occasion, after Abel had just been released from jail, I had the chance to speak with him over the phone. I was seeking to encourage and strengthen him, but instead he encouraged and strengthened me. He quoted Paul, and never have the words had such power: "It is not I who lives, but Christ who lives in me . . . I can do all things through his strength."

Where does that kind of power come from? Abel had discovered the source and had claimed the promise of Jesus, "He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father."

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- When you hear that you will do greater things than Jesus, how does that make you feel? Why do you think that is? What is your deepest desire in that area?

- Have you ever gone through the Bible in search of the promises God has made to you? If not, consider doing so now, and jotting down a few that you find. You might also consider memorizing these Scriptures, so you'll have them immediately on hand in your times of need.

- Are there any areas where it's hard for you to completely trust Jesus? What are they? Why do you think obstacles are present there?

THE SUREST PATH OF ALL

Day 24

When he had received the drink, Jesus said, "It is finished. "

With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

John 19:30

The apostle Paul had a one-track mind. He wrote to the Corinthians, "For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified" (1 Cor. 2:2). Galatians 2:20 is his one-sentence autobiography: "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me." Paul's commitment to Christ shaped every decision he made and determined every step he took. But what did it really mean for him to be "crucified with Christ?"

Paul and the other writers of Scripture were convinced that if we are going to see Jesus, we have to see him on the cross—vulnerable and weak. If we are going to be his disciples, we must seek to live in solidarity with him, to share in the fellowship of his suffering. Paul understood this clearly:

But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead. (Phil. 3:7-11)

Paul simply had one passion: to know Christ. He realized that knowing Christ involved the cross for himself.

The concept of sharing Christ's suffering became such a radical part of Paul's life that he never ceased talking about it. He wrote to the Colossians, "Now I rejoice in what was suffered for you, and I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ's afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the church" (Col. 1:24). The idea that we might share Christ's suffering is strange and somewhat confusing. Some may charge Paul with thinking that somehow Christ's suffering was insufficient for human sin and that he (Paul) had to do something about it—but that's not the issue at all.

There is nothing deficient in Christ's offering of himself as a reconciling act. Paul expressed what he sought to live out as the deepest desire of his life: to join in the fellowship of Christ's suffering. He called for the pattern of Christ's own saving work to be incorporated into the life of every Christian. Paul hoped that we would reproduce that kind of passion, that willingness to suffer, to give ourselves in a crossbearing style of life: a life of mourning.

Being crucified with Christ, then, was an experiential fact for Paul. We must guard against the temptation that has plagued the church from the beginning—the temptation to take Paul's crucifixion with Christ as merely symbolic.

GLORY IN OUR TROUBLES

In Romans 5:3-5, we find a strange word: we are to rejoice in our sufferings. Some versions say "glory in our troubles."This is a new idea; we don't usually glory in our troubles. Instead we moan and groan, we surrender to self-pity, and we wallow in the dust of our own weakness.

Paul's advice to the Roman Christians is dramatically different. In one of his greatest lyrical passages, he almost sings the intimate joy of his confidence in God. Remember that Paul was writing to the Christians in Rome—a place where it wasn't easy to be a Christian. In Rome, Christians were burned at the stake to provide light for the emperor's sporting events. They were fed to hungry beasts to entertain the clamoring mobs. It was more than difficult to be a Christian in Rome. Paul knew this, so he rose to this great height of Christian affirmation:

We also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.

How differently do we face the same situation! One may be driven to despair, the other spurred to triumphant action. One may see the situation as the end of hope; to the other it may be seen as a challenge to greatness.

We face situations differently according to the difference within us. If we've allowed ourselves to become weak when circumstances challenge us, if we whine and grovel under affliction, then when crisis comes, we can do nothing but despair. On the other hand, if we insist on meeting life with our heads up, determined to face and conquer obstacles, we can meet every situation with hope for victory.

NOT ALONE IN THE FIGHT

Let's nail this down now: the Christian faith makes no promise to deliver us from difficult situations—-Jesus himself was not delivered. It is precisely because he had no relief, no deliverance, no escape from the inevitable cross, that we look to him for guidance. We feel that he was one of us, that he suffered as we suffer, that the antagonistic circumstances of life did not bypass him. So, this strange man upon his cross keeps driving us back again and again to the struggles that are a part of the very fabric of life.

Can you imagine how the followers of Jesus must have felt on the day of his crucifixion? Not only was there physical darkness because the sun veiled its face, but there was spiritual darkness of the bleakest order. Hopes and dreams were shattered.

But something happened to change things. That which at first seemed to be tragedy became the greatest triumph yet known to humanity. Out of the final depth of human wickedness has come the redeeming power of God for all people—the cross.

The cross assures us we are not alone against darkness— God is with us. God cares so much, his love is so deep, his concern is so compassionate that, in Christ, he will die for us.

The universe is not hollow at the center; the world that surrounds us is not an immense spiritual emptiness. At the heart of the universe and enveloping all of life is the God who cares for us, loves us, and longs for fellowship with us—this is what the cross says to us. If God can turn that tragedy into triumph, think what he can do with your life and mine—if we will let him.

That's the challenge. When it comes to the inevitable experience of suffering, we make two primary responses: rebellion and resignation. Both have some merit. For instance, we are to rebel if rebellion means struggle. This is especially true in our praying. One stance of prayer is wrestling. Paul says that when we don't know how we ought to pray, God's spirit "intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express" (Rom. 8:26). He also wrote to the Ephesians, "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms" (Eph. 6:12).

So we rebel and we wrestle. In prayer, especially, we struggle to understand as we join with God to fight against evil and sin and sickness and suffering. But rebellion as our only, or primary, response to suffering will lead to resentment and bitterness.

The cross assures us we are not alone

against darkness—God is with us.

Resignation is another common response. If resignation is the passive giving in to whatever is, it will destroy our spirits. But if resignation is the active yielding of ourselves to Christ, the willingness for him to set the pace and lead the way, the positive joining of our strength with his in surrender to his will, then resignation becomes a creative force.

A movement between rebellion and resignation, the rhythm of which is set by acceptance, will make suffering, struggle, and pain creative. By acceptance I do not mean that God causes or initiates pain and suffering. God allows it and uses it for our good and God's glory. So we accept suffering as a part of life where God has given us freedom and called us to be responsible, in a world where unexplainable evil is obviously present.

Under these conditions, we offer our suffering to Christ, and we begin to believe that God will not waste any of our suffering and struggle.

CONFORMED TO CHRIST

Martin Luther could not have expressed his thoughts about Christianity more clearly: "He who is not crucianus, if I may coin a word, is not Christianus; in other words, he who does not bear his cross is no Christian, for he is not like his Master, Jesus Christ."

Jesus' death on the cross and his call to deny ourselves, take up his cross daily, and follow him are the heart of the Christian faith, spirituality, and discipleship. Luther talked about this idea in terms of being conformed to Christ:

The cross teaches us to believe in hope even when there is no hope. The wisdom of the cross is deeply hidden in a profound mystery. In fact, there is no other way to heaven than taking up the cross of Christ. On account of this we must beware that the active life with its good works, and the contemplative life with its speculations, do not lead us astray. Both are most attractive and yield peace of mind, but for that very reason they hide real dangers, unless they are tempered by the cross and disturbed by adversaries. The cross is the surest path of all. Blessed is the man who understands this truth. It is a matter of necessity that we be destroyed and rendered formless, so that Christ may be formed within us, and Christ alone be in us. . . . Real mortifications do not happen in lonely places away from the society of other human beings. No! They happen in the home, the market place, in secular life. . . ."Being conformed to Christ" is not within our powers to achieve. It is God's gift, not our own work.

Luther's reflection was a response to Romans 8:28-30:

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.

Luther does not limit his warning. In both our contemplative and active lives, we can be led astray. Both lifestyles are inviting, yielding peace of mind. Yet, implicit in both is the danger of betraying our Christian vocation. Peace can be seductive and numb us to the need for a dynamic relationship and dependence on God. The cross is essential. Keeping the cross at the center of our awareness always—-just like Paul— forces us to assess the depth of our discipleship and the degree of our surrender to Christ.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- How do you think perseverance in suffering leads to character, and how do you think character leads to hope?

- Have you experienced rebellion and/or resignation in your relationship with God? Describe your experience.

- What does "sharing in Christ's sufferings" mean to you?

THE HANDS AND FEET OF JESUS

Day 25

If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God,

who gives generously to all without finding fault,

and it will be given to him.

James 1:5

Throughout history a few people, like Adam and Moses, have experienced Almighty God firsthand.Others, like Mary, Martha, John, and Matthew, knew Jesus as he walked the earth. But the rest—from the time of the Bible to today—have found their most significant encounters through the Holy Spirit. Make no mistake; these encounters are no less important. The Bible teaches that the three persons of the Trinity—God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit—are different, yet in essence the same.

Let's imagine, then, the Day of Pentecost, a time when the early followers of Jesus experienced the Holy Spirit for the first time. Jesus had already been crucified, resurrected, spent forty days on earth, and then ascended back to heaven. His promise to them then, as told in Acts 1:8, was that they would receive power when the Holy Spirit came upon them, and that they would be witnesses "to the ends of the earth."

Notice that there was a succession of events: Jesus told his disciples to wait for the Holy Spirit first, and then they would receive power and be witnesses. So wait they did. The group continued to meet together for worship and prayer, and about ten days later, it happened:

Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them. (Acts 2:2-4)

A crowd quickly gathered to see what was happening, and after a newly emboldened Peter began to speak, three thousand people repented and were baptized. And the "church" began to spread.

The problem, however, was that these new Christians needed more than just forgiveness. They needed instruction on how to live their lives in this new way. They needed, above all, to be followers, disciples of Jesus.

WHAT WE DON'T WANT TO HEAR

When we consider the small group that experienced Pentecost, James, the brother of Jesus, is not usually the first person who comes to mind. He was one of two men named James who was present that day, and he wasn't the one who had been a part of Jesus' inner circle. No, this brother of Jesus did not even believe Jesus was the Messiah until after the Resurrection. And yet, in those days, a new life was born. And with the power of the Holy Spirit leading him, James went on to disciple the churches of the day—and every reader of the Bible since—with his wisdom, challenging insights, and forceful teachings. In the first chapter of his book, he reminds us to consider it "pure joy" when we face trials, (v. 2). He instructs us to be "quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry" (v. 19), and says that anyone who cannot keep a tight rein on his tongue, "deceives himself and his religion is worthless" (v. 26).

The thing about discipleship is that it often involves hearing things we don't want to hear. But when spoken in love—and guided by the power of the Spirit—those words can mean all the difference in our lives. And as we mature in our own relationship with God, we are called to disciple others with the help of that same power. As Jesus said, "Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age" (Matt. 28:19-20).

Discipleship often involves hearing

things we don't want to hear, but those

words can mean all the difference.

In a very real sense, each of us within the Christian community is to be a priest who ministers to others. We are to be an affirming, loving, and forgiving people—openly accepting of each other. When James wrote that we are to "pray one for another," he knew, I'm sure, that it is impossible to honestly pray for another person without coming to love, accept, and understand them.

Behavioral scientists tell us that most people today are plagued by feelings of loneliness and alienation. Even in urban centers, where neighbors are crowded in close around us, we live under an oppressive cloud of isolation. Never before has there been a time when our need for community was greater. We desperately want and need to share our deepest feelings with each other and be listened to.

Discipleship offers this enriching opportunity. Being open with one another about our faults and our feelings, and being humble enough to learn from others a little further down the path can be a powerful redemptive factor in physical and relational healing. To be a disciple is to be a learner, a follower. The word has the same root meaning as pupil. An apostle, on the other hand, is a doer—one who is sent to act out what he has learned. To be a Christian is to be a disciple and an apostle of Jesus Christ—this is being and doing. We take our shape from Jesus as disciples; we live out our wholeness as apostles. As much today as in the time of James, Jesus is our way to be and to do.

TESTIMONY, DEEDS, AND ENCOURAGEMENT

When George Morris and Eddie Fox wrote the book Faith-Sharing in 1996, they noted that approximately 77 percent of the persons who become Christian disciples do so because of the testimony, deeds, and encouragement of someone they trust. The authors remind us that there are three crucial issues revealed in this statistic.

Effective faith-sharing involves a proper balance of word, deed, and encouragement. Word here is understood as proclamation and/or testimony. Deed is understood as faithful Christian lifestyle and service. Encouragement is understood as active initiative on the part of the faith-sharer. The Christian must take the initiative and do as Jesus commanded—"Go." Christians must go to the people, love the people, share word and life with the people, listen to the people, and offer Christ to the people.

This suggests a crucial issue for the local church. If 77 percent of the persons who become Christian disciples do so because of the testimony, deeds, and encouragement of someone they trust, then person-to-person faith-sharing—both evangelism of non-Christians and discipleship of Christians—must be the highest priority, and we must train our people in this ministry. Christians must be equipped not only with the personal knowledge of Jesus Christ and a knowledge of the gospel; they must also know how to relate to another person in such a way that trust develops.

That's really what discipleship is about, isn't it? Trust. And trust is built only through relationship. As Christians, we draw strength and courage from one another. In sharing, we learn from each other. This is emphasized in the words of John Wesley, who said that a caring fellowship exists when "one loving heart sets another heart on fire."

When I hear the words "heart on fire," I think of a woman named Pauline Hord. What a remarkable person! And what a unique blending of prayer, personal piety, servant ministry, social concern, and a life poured out for others.

One of Pauline's passions was literacy and prison ministry.Our state, Tennessee, has a tremendous literacy problem. Thousands of people in our home city of Memphis can't read and write well enough to function in an adequate way in society. Pauline was working with the public schools, training teachers in a new literacy method. She was giving three days a week, four or five hours a day, to teaching this new method of literacy in model programs. But also, once a week, she was driving more than a hundred miles each way to Parchman State Prison down in Mississippi to teach prisoners how to read and write. Along with this, she ministered to them in a more encompassing way as she shared her love and faith, and witnessed to the power of the gospel. And let's just say she was a "senior" senior at the time.

Back then, President George H. W. Bush had started a program in the United States called "Points of Light." He called for citizens to exercise positive and creative influence and service in the areas where they lived. (Sounds a lot like discipleship, doesn't it?) In the different cities and communities of America, people were recognized for being "points of light." I nominated Pauline Hord for that honor, and she was written up in our daily newspaper.

Well, President Bush came to Memphis. He wanted to honor the seven most outstanding "points of light" in our city—the people who had done the most for the sake of humankind. And Pauline Hord was one of those selected. The president invited these seven to have lunch with him when he came for his visit to Memphis.

But President Bush made a mistake: he scheduled the luncheon on a Tuesday. That was the day Pauline spent at Parchman Prison in Mississippi, teaching prisoners to read and write and witnessing to them of the love of Christ. She would not give that up to have lunch with the president.

Pauline knew that being a disciple meant commitment. For her, being the hands and feet of Jesus was more important than anything—including a meal with the President of the United States.

But what about us? How are we doing with discipling others? How are we doing with allowing them to disciple us? According to Jesus, the cost of discipleship is losing our lives in order that we might find them. Now, he did not call us to self-deprecation, but rather to self-fulfillment. Jesus knew, as modern psychologists are beginning to learn, that life is found only by getting outside ourselves.

In his marvelous book Self-Renewal, John W. Gardner puts it in proper perspective. He says:

In the process of growing up the young person frees himself from utter dependence on others. As the process of maturing continues he must also free himself from the prison of self preoccupation. To do so he need not surrender his individuality. But he must place it in the voluntary service of larger objectives.

What better objective than serving Christ?

Remember that serving Jesus means that we are to be his disciples, his learners and followers. And that may take us into areas of our cities, towns, and countrysides where we don't want to go. It may put us with people with whom we are not comfortable. It may call us to tasks we would not choose ourselves.

I have been warmed by the well-known story of a war correspondent who paused long enough to watch a nun as she unwrapped a wounded soldier's leg. Gangrene had set in, and the stench from the pus and blood was so repulsive that he turned away as he mumbled beneath his breath, "I wouldn't do that for a million dollars." She glanced up and replied, "Neither would I."

Because of who she was, she did not have to add—"But I do it for Jesus' sake, and out of love for him."

What are we willing to do out of love? Who will we lead, and who will we follow?

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- When you hear the word discipleship, what comes to mind?

- Is the term positive, negative, or a mixture of both?

- Does your family of faith have structured discipleship programs? And if so, have you considered being involved? Why or why not?

- How can discipling others help us grow?

COMMUNION THROUGH CONVERSATION

Day 26

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name,

your kingdom come, your will be done

on earth as it is in heaven.

Matt. 6:9-10

When our grandson Nathan was five months old, it became obvious that he had a vision problem; he couldn't focus his eyes. A pediatric ophthalmologist pronounced the grave word that Nathan had an underdeveloped optic nerve that was not medically correctable. The doctor used these words to indicate the condition: "The nerve is thin and white and about 50 percent normal size." He indicated that Nathan could face other vision problems as he grew and developed, as well.

As grandparents, Jerry and I were very concerned. We shared this struggle with our congregation in Memphis, and they journeyed through the trauma with us. They sustained our family in their loving prayers as countless people across the land sought God on Nathan's behalf.

When Nathan was nine months old, he and his family moved from Columbus, Ohio, to Hartford, Connecticut. Instead of following their original plan of waiting until Nathan was one year old to get another examination, his parents took him to the pediatric ophthalmologist in Hartford. This visit was nothing short of miraculous.

Nathan's new doctor couldn't believe the previous diagnosis. Instead of Nathan's optic nerve appearing "thin and white and about 50 percent normal size," the doctor said it looked "pink and healthy, and smaller than normal."

My daughter, Kim, couldn't believe what she was hearing. She knew, however, that God was at work, and prayer had been a huge dynamic in releasing and experiencing God's grace.

To be sure, there is mystery. Not all people for whom we pray are healed. What we need to claim is simply this: redemptive and wholeness-giving things happen when we pray that do not happen if we don't pray.

Prayer gives God an opportunity to meet our needs. Rather than some mandatory idea of checking in, it offers us the chance to commune on a regular basis with the one who made us, showing yet another example of God's extravagant heart in relationship with us.

HEARING, LISTENING, RESPONDING

Before we go any further, it's important to note that Christian prayer is not telling God what to do. Rather, it is conscious communication with God, sharing our needs with our Creator and making our requests known. But there is mystery here, too. Prayer involves struggle and surrender.

When we pray, we do not presume to tell God what to do, but we do not hesitate to share our needs. We leave it to the wisdom of God to decide precisely what is to be done about them. And we do not stop believing that the very sharing of those needs plays a dynamic role in God's response.

Though we believe that God knows best and is ordering all things for the best, we must not cease working toward the best that God has for us. The stoic may submit to fate and not work for the fulfillment of the good, but not the Christian. When a friend or family member is suffering through an illness, we do everything possible to demonstrate our loving care in the situation. We employ the best treatments of modern medicine as well as psychological support to enhance healing.

Shouldn't it be the same for prayer? If it is right to work for a certain end, isn't it just as right to pray for that purpose? The theologian John Baillie states it succinctly: "Clearly we must not pray for any end towards which it is wrong to labour, but likewise we must not labour toward any end for which it is wrong to pray."

If it is right to work for a

certain end, isn't it just as

right to pray for that purpose ?

Clearly we must also understand that God wants to give good gifts to us, and that one of those gifts is to be in relationship with him. Communication with God really is possible. That seems so simple and so obvious, but is it?

Believing that I could actually talk with God and that God would hear and listen and respond to me has been one of the greatest difficulties in my life. This is an enormous assumption that needs to be fixed firmly in our minds. What it means is that I, among all the millions of people in the world, can have personal interaction with the Father.

God is like a shepherd who misses even one lost sheep from the flock; like a homemaker who sweeps a house clean to find one lost coin; like the father who grieves for one prodigal son who has left home. As Matthew 18:14 reminds us, "Your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should be lost."

Take a few minutes right now to think about that. God cares for each one of us as individuals. Is it hard for you to accept that? Do you believe it? Have you been praying as though you believe it?

One of the characteristics of a caring father is the desire to communicate with his children. He may communicate directly, by talking and spending time with them; or indirectly, by withholding the wisdom of his experience to encourage his children to think and judge for themselves. If God is like a father, then communication, direct or indirect, must be at the heart of our relationship.

The eleventh chapter of Luke tells us so much about prayer. In the parable of the friend at midnight, Jesus says to his disciples:

Suppose one of you has a friend, and he goes to him at midnight and says, "Friend, lend me three loaves of bread, because a friend of mine on a journey has come to me, and I have nothing to set before him." Then the one inside answers, "Don't bother me. The door is already locked, and my children are with me in bed. I can't get up and give you anything." I tell you, though he will not get up and give him the bread because he is his friend, yet because of the man's boldness he will get up and give him as much as he needs, (w. 5-8)

Please be aware that Jesus is not saying that the reluctant neighbor is a symbol or a metaphor for God. In this parable, Jesus is not teaching about the nature of God—he's teaching about the nature of our praying. Unfortunately, we often get confused on that point. That's the very reason we must keep our focus clear. God is the one whom we address as "Abba, Father." Jesus is saying that sincerity, persistence, and the voicing of our deepest needs, in keeping with God's will, is what prayer is all about.

We need that word. Many of us would be embarrassed to knock on a neighbor's door at midnight. But the parable reminds us that we can call on God at any time. Many of us would be reluctant to admit that we haven't been prepared for the very small emergency posed by the arrival of just one unexpected guest. Many of us hesitate to pray when we know we are at fault and have not done everything we should have done to remedy a situation. But this parable instructs us to ask God's help no matter what we have done or what we have failed to do. Many of us quickly take one no or even a maybe as a final answer to any request. But the parable tells us to persist, to keep on asking and seeking and knowing until we receive what God wants to give us.

Jesus brings it to a close with this: "So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened" (Luke 11:9-10). Prayers that voice our deepest need in keeping with God's will are answered.

PRIVILEGE VS. DUTY

We need to consider another dimension of prayer. It's one of those what if questions that demands more action and life-response than it does reason or argument. "What if there are some things God either cannot or will not do until people pray?"

This question may seem shocking to you. At one time, it was to me, as well. It is common to think and affirm that God acts through persons. Deeds of mercy, acts of reconciliation, expressions of loving-kindness, deliberate righteous activity, peacemaking performances—all are seen as God's work through people. God's will is accomplished through us, we often say. On earth, God's work must be our own. So why is it such a long leap in our minds to think that God is as dependent upon our praying as he is upon our acting?

I have used the word dependent advisedly. I know it raises all sorts of theological red flags in many minds. To say that God is dependent upon us creatures for anything is probably presumptuous to say the least, and blasphemous, to say the most. Yet, I use the word deliberately and ask you to consider the question openly. What if there are some things God either cannot or will not do until people pray?

Regardless of your response, we must remember that prayer is a privilege, not a duty. When considering it as a privilege, we begin to understand that it offers us creative freedom rather than bondage. We've been taught that we ought to pray, and when we don't, we feel guilty. But like love and friendship, music, books, art, laughter, and play, prayer is a great opportunity. Not to pray is an act of self-robbery.

We are free to pray. The privilege is open to all of us. The privilege is communion with God, feeling God's presence, and being aware of God's guidance.

Always remember this: prayer is relationship. It is being with God. It is meeting. It is a personal relationship in which you and God move from a hello of politeness to an embrace of love. It is communion. All other dimensions of prayer must take second place to this.

Relationship is a personal matter. In prayer, we are relating specifically to God who claims our total allegiance, calling us to love with all our heart, soul, and might: "Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength" (Deut. 6:4-5).

A relationship becomes meaningful and real the moment you begin to single out a person from the crowd. Prayer becomes real when it is no longer a relationship in the third person but in the first and second persons, when God becomes more than the remote "Almighty," and becomes the singular and unique "Thou" or "You." The psalmist had discovered this intimacy: "O God, you are my God" (Ps. 63:1, italics mine).

When we discover a personal relationship with God, prayer goes beyond being a shop where we go to bargain and barter for the gifts of God. It becomes the home of the Father with whom we live, where all the treasures of God's love and concern are ours for the receiving.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- How would you describe your prayer life?

- Describe a time that God directly answered a prayer. How did that make you feel?

- What steps could you take to make your prayer times even more personal and relevant to your life?

PLANTED BY THE WATER

Day 27

. . . in all your ways acknowledge him,

and he will make your paths straight.

Prov. 3:6

In his book Invitation to Pilgrimage, John Baillie wrote, "I am sure the bit of road that most requires to be illuminated is the point where it forks."

He's right. There is no place on our life journey where we need more light than at a crucial fork in the road, where we have to make a decision about which direction we are going to go. Thankfully, however, there's a promise related to that, too: God's Word, according to Psalm 119, is a lamp to our feet and a light for our paths (v. 105).

We do have a right to ask, seek, and know the will of God. But here's the catch: once we know it, nothing but obedience will do. The saints sought to arrive at the place in their relationship with Jesus that their one longing was to live and walk in a way that would please God and bring glory to God's name.St. Francis de Sales insisted that attaining this goal is possible:

It is a great error of certain souls otherwise good and pious that they believe they cannot retain interior repose in the midst of business and perplexities. Surely there is no commotion greater than that of a vessel in the midst of the sea; yet those on board to not give up the thought of resting or sleeping, and the compass remains always in its place, turning towards the pole. Here is the point: We must be careful to keep the compass of our will in order, that it may never turn elsewhere than to the pole of the divine pleasure.

But how do we know God's will? How do we keep the compass of our will in order? The first and primary condition is complete surrender to obedience, which fits us to receive instruction and guidance about God's will for us.

There are three seeds which, when planted in the soil of obedience and humility, produce the fruit of God's will in our lives: (1) Scripture study; (2) Christian conferencing, or deliberately and honestly sharing with godly persons for both instruction and discernment; and (3) divine conviction brought by the Holy Spirit.

EVERYTHING WE NEED

I believe that God has a general will for all of God's people, which we can, to a marked degree, learn from the Bible. The apostle Paul makes it clear in his Second Letter to Timothy: "All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work" (2 Tim. 3:16-17).

Christians believe that the Bible is God's Word. The Bible contains everything we need for salvation; for growth and discipleship; and for teaching, correction, and training in righteousness. Scripture has everything we need to be equipped for every good work.

In the divine school of obedience, then, there is only one textbook. We see it even in the life of Jesus. Though he communicated directly with the Father, he still depended on Scripture. He used it to teach and to convince others. He also needed it and used it for his own spiritual life and guidance.

Throughout his public life, Jesus lived by the Word of God. He conquered Satan with the sword of the Spirit, saying, "It is written." The consciousness with which Jesus opened his public preaching of the gospel was shaped by Scripture: "The Spirit of the Lord is on me" . . . "so that the Scripture would be fulfilled . . ." (Luke 4:18;John 19:36). Jesus' understanding of Scripture illumined his suffering and allowed him to give himself to the cross. When he met with his disciples after his death and Resurrection, he taught them "what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself" (Luke 24:27). In Scripture, Jesus found God's plan. He gave himself to fulfill it, and he used God's Word for his continual teaching.

WHERE TWO OR THREE ARE GATHERED

The second resource for knowing God's will is Christian conferencing. Jesus promised that where two or three are gathered in his name, he will be present also (Matt. 18:20). Conferencing with other godly persons who love Jesus and who want God's will for their lives and for ours is a dependable way to seek God's will.

I based one of the most dramatic moves of my life on accepting God's will as a result of Christian conferencing. My primary calling is clear: to be a pastor/preacher. Before this move, I was exercising my vocation with great joy, fruitful response, deep meaning, and continual spiritual growth as senior minister of a large congregation. People were being converted, healed, and coming to maturity in Christ. Our church's outreach ministries to the "least of these" and to non-Christians were expanding. My wife and I could not have been happier. We had served that congregation for twelve years and intended to stay until retirement.

Then came the call to the presidency of Asbury Theological Seminary. For months I would not consider the possibility, refusing even to talk with the search committee. The Holy Spirit impressed upon Jerry that I should at least consider what seemed to be a clear call through the committee. So we did— but without clarity on my part. In desperation, really, I began a conferencing process with godly people whom I loved and trusted, some that I had shared my Christian walk with for twenty-five years. I knew they loved God. I was certain they loved me and wanted God's best for me.

Through them, I discerned God's will. And once I made the decision to accept the seminary presidency, I had little doubt that I was in the center of God's will. Over and over again, my calling to that ministry was confirmed.

PLANTED IN OUR SPIRITS

As we said earlier, God has a general will for all believers that we can, to a large degree, learn from the Bible. There is, however, a special application of God's will concerning each of us personally. One of the ways we discern and test this is through Christian conferencing. We must not, however, forget one of the most powerful possibilities—the guidance that comes through the Holy Spirit. On many occasions, the Holy Spirit plants solidly in our minds and feelings certain convictions about God's will.

It was the Holy Spirit that quickened Jerry's heart and led her to convince me to consider talking with the presidential search committee of Asbury Seminary. Had she not responded to that impression of the Spirit, we might have missed God's call.

The Holy Spirit's work comes in different ways: through an intuition, the source of which we may not be able to identify; through an idea that comes seemingly from nowhere; through the word of a friend or a chance encounter; or through a surge of strength to our wills that calls us to act in a certain way in a particular circumstance.

These possibilities happen in the context of our sincerely wanting to be in God's will, when we are willingly submissive to his guidance. It is an amazing potential: that the Holy Spirit will guide us. We have it on the promise of Jesus. When he was preparing his followers for his death, he promised them the Holy Spirit. Of the Holy Spirit he said, "When he, the Spirit of Truth, comes, he will guide you into all truth" (John 16:13). We can count on convictions that will come, impressed upon us by the Holy Spirit.

Knowing—and doing—God's will

helps us become like trees planted by

the water, producing fruit in season.

We dare not fail to be open, and certainly we must not ignore and/or quench the Spirit. Yet, it is altogether in keeping with God's direction that we test even these convictions with Scripture and Christian conferencing.

PLANTED BY THE WATER

Remember, however, that once we discern God's will for our lives, we really have no choice but to obey. We become responsible for what we know. Knowing—and doing—God's will helps us become like trees planted by the water, producing fruit in season.

Have you ever noticed how many stories the Bible offers about trees and fruit? Jesus used the metaphor of trees and fruit for one of his most challenging teachings: "No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. Each tree is recognized by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thornbushes, or grapes from briers" (Luke 6:43-44).

One of Jesus' harshest acts came one day when he was hungry and sought fruit from a fig tree. Finding nothing but leaves when it should have had figs, Jesus cursed it: "May you never bear fruit again!" (Matt. 21:19).

There is also that very first psalm:

Blessed is the man

who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked

or stand in the way of sinners

or sit in the seat of mockers.

But his delight is in the law of the LORD,

and on his law he meditates day and night.

He is like a tree planted by streams of water,

which yields its fruit in season

and whose leaf does not wither.

Whatever he does prospers.

Not so the wicked!

They are like chaff

that the wind blows away.

Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,

nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.

For the LORD watches over the way of the righteous,

but the way of the wicked will perish.

The psalmist presents a graphic parallel. The godly person, again, is like a tree planted by the water, which produces fruit in its season. The picture of the wicked, the ungodly, is in stark contrast. The psalmist changes the metaphor. They are "like chaff that the wind blows away."

The prophet Jeremiah paints a similar picture:

This is what the LORD says: "Cursed is the one who trusts in man, who depends on flesh for his strength and whose heart turns away from the LORD. He will be like a bush in the wastelands; he will not see prosperity when it comes. He will dwell in the parched places of the desert, in a salt land where no one lives. But blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose confidence is in him. He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit." (Jer. 17:5-8)

The message is clear through both the psalm and the prophet. There are two choices: we either trust in ourselves or we trust in God. Those who trust in themselves will be like chaff that "the wind blows away," like "a bush in the wastelands."But those well-watered souls who trust in God—who seek and do the will of the Father—continue to be satisfied by the source.

The good news is that God's will for our lives is better than our human minds can ask or imagine. I see an unintentional description of this in a tribute to W. Robertson Nicholl, who for many years was the editor of British Weekly. George Jackson said, "He flung down a bunch of keys for me, and has set me to opening doors for myself on every side of me."

This is what God does. Even when we are walking closely with him, even when we are alive in Christ, he does not open all the doors. He flings down a bunch of keys and lets us find them and use them to unlock the doors for ourselves. In him we do not find a retreat from the pressures of life; we do not go into some monastery, closing the door behind us; but rather, life with God enables us to live with determination even amid the perplexities that once confounded us.

Paul was honest in his perplexity. "I do not understand what I do," he confessed. "For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate 1 do" (Rom. 7:15). Conscious of his inadequacies and failures, he became increasingly aware that the only answer was a constant contact with the source of life: God. He found that source—the water by which he planted his tree— in Jesus Christ. And yet he lived out his life as a Christian amid the stress and strain of a pagan world. Paul's limitation in face of the perils he confronted only emphasized his frailty.

Although Paul's life was always difficult, the reality of Jesus' constant presence gave him determination and enabled him to say, "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed" (2 Cor. 4:8-9).

Paul had found the true service of God in his life. His faith in God—and his dependence on God's leading—gave the confidence that no person can conjure up on his or her own. The same service of God is available for our lives. God casts a bunch of keys down before us; they are waiting to be used to unlock any door of life through which we might enter.Which one will you choose?

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- In what ways has God offered you guidance?

- Do you relate more to the tree planted by the water or the bush in the wastelands? Why?

- Is there anything God has revealed to you about your life that you have yet to take hold of? What's standing in your way?

CHOOSING TO BE WHOLE

Day 28

Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit

within me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation

and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.

Ps. 51:10, 12

Have you ever looked up the definition of integrity? One definition is "the state of being complete or undivided." It's a challenge I have experienced in my own life.

For a long time, even in the early years of my ministry, I was a one-man war. I used my deprived background as a rationalization to excuse my dividedness. If I wasn't successful, I had an excuse for my failure—even God wouldn't expect much out of a poor kid from Perry County, Mississippi! I didn't use this excuse often, but when I did, it served as an ace in the hole. With it, I could explain away an occasional bad grade in college or seminary; my background was inadequate. I had a dreadful fear of failure, and this rationalization was always there to fall back on.

I cultivated the estrangement of my various selves, yet there was within me a surging desire to be whole. There was something within me that demanded that I acquire—or recover—integrity. To use the modern idiom, I knew that I had to get it all together.

All the while, though, I fed myself a prescription from my "Christian survival kit." It was the remedy we call selfcondemnation, and it was one of the primary prescriptions of my brand of Christianity at that time. Self was to be put down, negated, and brought under subjection—not to be fulfilled, unified, and made whole.

Instead of curing me, self-condemnation only made matters worse. Then something happened. A psychologist friend introduced me to the work of Abraham Maslow. This was the real treatment I desperately needed.

In the past, psychologists believed that we could best understand psychological health by first understanding psychological illness. Maslow provided an alternative viewpoint. Instead of studying sick people, he studied healthy ones—those who had achieved a high degree of self-satisfaction or fulfillment. These were the "healthy champions," the models of what people could be. That made a lot of sense to me.

I noted that Jesus was one of the people who, according to Maslow, demonstrated self-actualization. I started looking at Jesus in that light. I learned what Jesus was all about. He didn't come to tear me up and scatter the pieces. He came to help me get it all together. His purpose was to help me to find my true self and to celebrate it. That made all the difference. I began to understand the reality of choosing to be whole, not just once, but daily. I became able to look at God's grace and goodness in a new way.

Think of Psalm 51, for example. We may think David is trying to rationalize his actions or seeking to evade responsibility when he says, "Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me" (Ps. 51:5). This misses the point altogether. If David thinks for a moment that he has an excuse, that thought soon leaves him as he faces the spectacle he has made of himself. Standing before the mirror of his soul, he sees himself in every repugnant detail. He paints a picture of himself so repulsive that he is afraid God will completely recoil from him if he looks upon him before the process of cleansing makes him presentable again. This psalm is the urgent plea from David's heart in seeking a fresh start.

When we look in the mirror of our own souls, we don't all see the same reflection, for we are not the same people. Yet each of us has a soul-reflection. Some of us never look at it, but we need to.

Look now in the mirror of your soul. What do you see? Pride, deception, sexual lust, self-righteousness, wasted talent, callousness toward the needs of others, idolatry (making a god out of your money, security, or self-image), cheating, lying, neurotic fear, failure to develop the gifts God has given you, or exaggerated ego that puts others down and puffs self up?

The good news is, no matter what's there, God offers forgiveness for it, as well as the choice to have it become part of our past rather than part of our present or our future. The new life that God promises is not just some throwaway idea that was only relevant in biblical times; it is every bit as applicable today.

Unfortunately, many professing Christians still don't walk in true freedom, understanding that they can be fit for kingdom living. Is it because we think God has only partly forgiven us? If we have a tough time loving and accepting God, it may be because our attention is still upon our sin, rather than on him. We spend our energy wrestling with our guilt. But true conviction has to come to us at the core of our being, and when it does, it overcomes all other temporary feelings or reversals into guilt and self-condemnation: Christ has forgiven me. My sin is no longer the issue. I am being made new. I will not be uptight over my sins. I will choose to stand tall in God's forgiveness and allow him to mold me after his likeness.

In those times, then, when we find our days—or our selves—to be meaningless, when we feel complacent, we must remember that there really is more to life than we have known thus far. The choices that bombard us on a daily basis—everything from a new deodorant to a new Jaguar— won't provide us freedom. But God—through Christ—does. He frees us from meaninglessness by providing a sense of purpose, a sense of mission, a sense of responsibility, a feeling of self-worth, a basis for relationships, and a reason for being. He's just that good.

CHRIST FREES US AND FITS US

The full measure of Christ means that he comes to both free us and fit us for kingdom living. Incredible news, isn't it? Keep in mind Paul's word to the Colossians: "For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins" (Col. 1:13-14). As for the "fitting" part, recall that the answer is not giving our sins to Jesus. Rather, the key is giving ourselves to Jesus and allowing him to take the sins away. In the process, however, we are as holy as we want to be. This week, have you asked yourself: do you want to be holy? Are you willing to yield?

CLAIMING THE PROMISE

Do you recall the grand promise? It's certainly one worth committing to memory: "I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father" (John 14:12). Don't forget, though, that it's easy to settle for less than is promised and far less than is possible. Yes, you can do even greater things. For that to happen, however, you must remember that you are more than you think you are, and that there are things that you can be and do, but will never be and do apart from Jesus Christ. Has this study had an effect on your faith in any area? If so, how?

THE SUREST PATH OF ALL

Think now of Paul's one-sentence autobiography: "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me" (Gal. 2:20). Paul's commitment to Christ shaped every decision he made and determined every step he took. How close are we to saying the same? Identifying with Jesus, according to Paul, means identifying with Jesus' suffering. As Christians, we can't simply sidestep challenges just because of the one we serve. But there is good news: suffering produces perseverance, perseverance, character; and character, hope. And knowing this, we can face any situation with our heads held high. In what ways could Jesus be with you in a time of suffering?

THE HANDS AND FEET OF JESUS

The gift of the Holy Spirit, which fell on the early followers of Jesus at Pentecost, changed their lives forever. It still carries the same power today. As we mature in our own relationship with God, we are called to disciple others with the help of the Holy Spirit's power. It matters not whether we've got it all together; God simply works through willing vessels. At the same time, no matter how mature we become, God still expects us to be disciplined, too. Is there anyone in your life that you currently disciple (either formally or informally)? Is there anyone who disciples you? If your answer to either of these questions is no, consider asking God to open your eyes to the people around you. Certainly there are both people who need your wisdom and people who have wisdom of their own to give you.

COMMUNION THROUGH CONVERSATION

Prayer is not about telling God what to do; it's about giving him the chance to meet our needs. Remember that God really does want to give good gifts to us, and that one of those gifts is to be in relationship with us. He is like the shepherd who misses even one lost sheep from the flock, and as such, it is his desire that we come to him with our concerns, our problems, our fears, and our joys so that he might share this life with us. In that vein, have you been considering your prayer life a privilege or a duty? Have you established a regular practice of coming before the Father? If not, what is keeping you from it, and how can you overcome those challenges?

PLANTED BY THE WATER

Yes, we can know the will of God for our lives. We can know it through the Scriptures, through the wise counsel of godly people, and even through the Holy Spirit. But once we hear that direction, we must be obedient to it if we are to walk in the fullness of Christ. Recall now the many examples of trees being planted by the water, gaining their strength directly from the source. Recall, too, that those who choose to live their lives without connection to (and guidance from) God are like a bush in the wastelands. How could/would your life be different if you sought consistent guidance from God?

DAY 29: THE DWELLING PLACE OF WONDER

DAY 3O: THE BODY OF CHRIST

DAY 31: WHAT DEFINES CHRISTIAN COMMUNITY?

DAY 32: THE PEOPLE OF GOD

DAY 33: ESSENTIAL CHARACTERISTICS

DAY 34: THE PRIESTHOOD OF ALL BELIEVERS

DAY 35: A CHURCH SHAPED BY THE GREAT COMMISSION

THE DWELLING PLACE OF WONDER

Day 29

And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him

to be head over everything for the church. . . .

Eph. 1:22

American dramatist Robert Sherwood once described theater as "the dwelling place of wonder." That is well said—but I believe the definition is more apt for the church than it is for the stage.

Think about it: the church is the dwelling place of wonder. The idea resonates with Paul's word in Ephesians.When God raised Jesus from the dead, he:

. . . seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every title that can be given, not only in the present age but also in the one to come. And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way. (Eph. 1:20-23)

Ephesians has been called the "Epistle of the Ascension," and that's exactly what it is; it is here that we meet the exalted Christ of power.

In the modern church, we make too little of the Ascension of Christ. The early Christians were post- Resurrection, post-Ascension Christians. They knew the gospel story. They knew the Jesus who was once a baby in his mother's arms—but not that now. They knew the Jesus who was once a carpenter, teacher, companion, and friend—but not that now. They knew one whose healing love mercifully blessed all he touched, saw, heard, and spoke to; that healing love is not limited by time and space now. The self-giving, suffering servant who hung on a cross, pouring out his life and love on our behalf does not still hang there. God raised him from the dead!

But there is more: this Jesus ascended, and in doing so, brought the curtain up to reveal a new act in the drama. Pentecost happened. The Spirit of this ascended one poured out on his followers, and the church was born. He remains "far above all rule and authority, power and dominion." His name is exalted above "every title that can be given, not only in the present age but also in the one to come" (Eph.l:21). Everything has been put under his feet. He is the head, the authority. He has been given dominion. And the church is his body—the fullness of him who fills everything in every way.

Do you stir with excitement when you think of that, as I do? The church is the dwelling place of the wonder of Christ. We—the church—are his body.

THE WONDER OF THE GOSPEL

So, what is it that is so wondrous about being Christ's body? It begins with the wonder of the gospel. John Wesley defined the visible church as a congregation of faithful people, "in which the pure word of God is preached." For Wesley, the Scriptures were "the only and sufficient rule both of Christian faith and practice."

In his pamphlet entitled "The Character of a Methodist," Wesley said: "As to all opinions which do not strike at the root of Christianity, we think and let think." One of the distinguishing characteristics of Methodism throughout history is that it has been inclusive in spirit. The Methodist Church has been ecumenical and open to other denominations.One example of this openness is that it does not require rebaptism when persons from other Christian denominations present themselves for membership.

This inclusiveness, however, does not mean that Methodists are unconcerned about doctrine and theology.One of the grave problems of contemporary United Methodism—as well as other mainline churches—is that it has substituted ideology for theology.

One ideology that is currently damning us is that of pluralism and diversity. Don't misunderstand me: I do value cultural pluralism and diversity (and I believe my life in the ministry witnesses to that fact). However, I believe that when we make theological pluralism an ideology, when we act as though diversity is redemptive in itself and make it an ultimate value over orthodox Christian doctrine, we undermine both the gospel and the church. Jesus Christ, and his uniqueness as God's ultimate revelation, is central to the gospel. And the church must be the dwelling place of that gospel.

For the past couple of decades, the discovered remains of the sunken Titanic have received a lot of media attention. Along the way, we have learned a great deal about that tragedy. For example, when the crew of the Titanic knew it was in difficulty, an SOS radio signal went out. The ship California was only ten miles away, but it could not respond because its radio was turned off. Though the Carpathia was further away, its radio was on—and that vessel arrived in time to save lives.

Our "radio signal" in the church is the gospel, and the centrality of Christ is the heart of the gospel. What we think about Christ will determine how we approach mission and evangelism. What we think Christ can do for people's lives will determine how we plan for ministry.

THE WONDER OF GRACE

If the church is the dwelling place of the gospel, then it also must be a dwelling place for grace. Wesley referred to the fellowship of the church as "one loving heart setting another heart on fire." The quality of our fellowship must be so grace-filled that people experience redemptive power in relationships. My favorite way of thinking about that is to picture the church as a home of grace. If the church is a home of grace—if grace is what defines the family of God— then the church must be a home for all.

Over the years, former U.S. President Jimmy Carter has been in the news for a variety of reasons. He has negotiated peace conversations, monitored elections, spoken out on issues like poverty and immigration, and led the cause for a Palestinian state. But almost every time I've seen him on TV or read about him, I recall a story that was printed in Newsweek many years ago.

If the church is a home of grace, then

the church must be a home for all.

The article was about Hubert Humphrey's memorial service. Hundreds of people came from all over the world to say good-bye to their old friend and colleague. But one guest was shunned and ignored by virtually everyone there. That person was former President Richard Nixon. Not long before, Nixon had endured the shame and infamy of Watergate. Humphrey's service brought Nixon back to Washington for the first time since he resigned from the presidency.

Before the service, people were avoiding Nixon like the plague—no one would talk to him or even acknowledge him. Then, a very special thing happened, perhaps the only thing that could have broken the ice. Jimmy Carter, who was president at that time, came into the room and was about to be seated. When he saw President Nixon standing against the wall, all by himself, Carter walked over to him as though he were going to greet a family member. Nixon stuck out his hand to the president, but to the surprise of everyone there, the two of them embraced, and Carter said, "Welcome home, Mr. President! Welcome back home again!"

Commenting on the scene, Newsweek reported, "If there was a turning point in Nixon's long ordeal in the wilderness, it was at that moment in that gesture of love and compassion."

Isn't that what the church is all about? It's that home of grace where we, too, can be greeted with an embrace and feel that we belong.

WELCOME TO OUR HOME OF GRACE!

What if congregations began posting huge signs that read "Welcome to our home of grace"? Do you think people might show up who hadn't before? How would people respond to your church if the people could say—and really mean—the following?

Welcome home, you who are weary and heavy laden; welcome home!

Welcome home, you who are sinking under the onslaught of life; welcome home!

Welcome home, single mothers, forsaken by selfish men; welcome home!

Welcome home, young people who love rock music, whose body piercings say more about seeking and desire to belong than protest and rebellion; welcome home!

Welcome home, sexually broken, and you who are confused in your identity; welcome home!

Welcome home, you who are poor, both the working poor and those who have given up altogether; welcome home!

Welcome home, you who have spent your life seeking success but have yet to find significance; welcome home!

Welcome home, you millions of baby boomers who are coming to retirement age but don't know what to do with yourselves; welcome home!

Welcome home, immigrants—legal and illegal— who desperately need safety and a place to belong; welcome home!

Welcome home, you who do not feel at home anywhere; welcome home!

The church is meant to be the home of grace, a home for all. If it is not a home for all, it is not a home at all.

If this is a hard concept to swallow, we must ask ourselves if, at any point, we've lost our confidence in the gospel. The wonder of it all is that the gospel is still a saving, reconciling, healing power.

Though we may think we're doing a good job of letting our lights shine before others and offering a welcoming presence, consider this: large national samples of unchurched people have indicated that most have never been invited to church by a Christian. Not only that, but most unchurched people have said that they've never been told by a Christian what it means to believe in Christ, and never been invited to embrace Jesus as their Lord and Savior.

Has the church really strayed so far from its Wesleyan roots?

John Wesley's central objective—upon which the Methodist movement was founded—was to "widen" and "deepen" what he called "the work of God." George Hunter reminds us that "the work of God" here does not refer to everything we do in obedience to God. Wesley used the term to mean "the conversion of sinners from sin to holiness." He never substantially deviated from that evangelical meaning of the term. Wesley had confidence in the gospel and the claims that the gospel makes about the cross as the heart of its good news. The good news is that through Christ, God has done for us what we could not do for ourselves. Our responsibility, now as much as ever, is to be Christ to others, to extend that sense of wonder, that hand of welcome, and that message of grace.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- Be honest: how do you feel about the idea of the church as the home for all?

- Is it difficult for you to share with others what God has done in your life or to invite them to church? Why do you think that is?

- How did you end up in your current congregation? Did you first come because you believed it could be a home of wonder or grace? If someone invited you, take a moment to thank God for that person now.

THE BODY OF CHRIST

Day 30

Now you are the body of Christ,

and each one of you is a part of it.

1 Cor. 12:27

Will Campbell has been a prophetic challenger of the church for decades. He's a sort of renegade Baptist preacher who calls himself a "steeple dropout," a preacher without a pulpit, and he ministers to people in some of the most interesting and fascinating ways. He has been a civil rights activist, a prison reform advocate, and even a priest to members of the Ku Klux Klan. He was the minister to the University of Mississippi at the height of the civil rights movement back in the 1960s, and he worked with the National Council of Churches following his time at Ole Miss. But he became disillusioned with the way the National Council did ministry, feeling that they were far more sociological than they were theological, so he became a "minister-at-large."

When I was with The Upper Room, Will Campbell lived close by on a small farm in Mt. Juliet, Tennessee. He was lecturing all over the nation and had written a number of books. In my opinion, his best book is Brother to a Dragonfly; it is at once a sensitive biography and a compelling novel.

In the book, Campbell shares a confrontation with an agnostic friend named P. D. East, the editor of a radical little newspaper in Petal, Mississippi. I got to know East during my student days at the University of Southern Mississippi. He had an interesting discourse in which he compared the church to an Easter chicken, and Campbell shared the story in his book.

You know, Preacher Will, that Church of yours and Mr. Jesus is like an Easter chicken my little Karen got one time. Man, it was a pretty thing. Dyed a deep purple. Bought it at the grocery store. . . . But pretty soon that baby chicken started feathering out. You know, sprouting little pinfeathers. Wings and tail and all that. And you know what? Them new feathers weren't purple. No siree bob, that damn chicken wasn't really purple at all. That damn chicken was a Rhode Island Red. And when all them little red feathers started growing out from under that purple it was one hell of a sight. All of a sudden Karen couldn't stand that chicken anymore. . . . Well, we took that half-purple and half-red thing out to her Grandma's house and threw it in the chicken yard with all the other chickens. It was still different, you understand. That little chicken. And the other chickens knew it was different. And they resisted it. . . . Pecked it, chased it all over the yard. Wouldn't have anything to do with it. Wouldn't even let it get on the roost with them. And that little chicken knew it was different too. It didn't bother any of the others. Wouldn't fight back or anything. Just stayed by itself. Really suffered too. But little by little, day by day, that chicken came around. Pretty soon, even before all the purple grew off it, while it was still just a little bit different, that damn thing was behaving just about like the rest of them chickens. Man, it would fight back, peck the hell out of the ones littler than it was, knock them down to catch a bug if it got to it in time. Yes siree bob, the chicken world turned that Easter chicken around. And now you can't tell one chicken from another. They're all just alike. The Easter chicken is just one more chicken. There ain't a damn thing different about it.

Campbell knew that East wanted to argue, so he didn't want to disappoint him: "Well, P. D., the Easter chicken is still useful. It lays eggs, doesn't it?" That's exactly what P. D.wanted him to say.

Yeah, Preacher Will. It lays eggs. But they all lay eggs. Who needs a Easter chicken for that? And the Rotary Club serves coffee. And the Four-H Club says prayers. The Red Cross takes up offerings for hurricane victims. Mental health does counseling, and the Boy Scouts have youth programs.

I share the story to put the question about the nature of the church in perspective. Unfortunately, Campbell's friend is right. Too many congregations are like an Easter chicken, painted up a little bit on the outside, but the same as other chickens when the color's gone—a gathering of people who do not have that distinctive mark of Jesus upon them.

THE BODY

This week, we've already considered that the church can be the dwelling place of wonder, the dwelling place of the gospel, and the dwelling place of grace. We don't have to stretch our thinking, then, to conclude that the church can—and should—also be the dwelling place of Christ. As Christ is the Incarnation of God, so the church is to be the continuation of Christ's presence in the world.

One of the most prominent images of the church in the New Testament, then, is the body of Christ. Donald English tells a quaint but poignant story that speaks to this image. In Birmingham, England, there is a store called Louis'. It's a great chain store in one of the main streets, and it wanted to expand. In the way of the expansion was a little chapel of the Quakers, a Friends Meeting House. Louis' sent a letter to the leaders of the Friends Meeting House, saying:

Dear Sirs:

We wish to extend our premises. We see that your building is right in the way. We wish therefore to buy your building and demolish it so that we might expand our store. We will pay you any price you care to name. If you will name a price we will settle the matter as quickly as possible. Yours, Sincerely

They got a letter back by reply which said:

Dear Sirs:

We in the Friends Meeting House note the desire of Louis' to extend. We observe that our building is right in your way. We would point out, however, that we have been on our site longer than you've been on yours, and we are so determined to stay where we are that we will happily buy Louis'. If therefore you would like to name a suitable price we will settle the matter as quickly as possible. Signed, Cadbury

Here's the clincher, if it has not dawned on you. The Cadburys are great chocolatiers in England; they own an enormous business with outlets all across the country. The Cadburys are also Quakers. They could very well have bought Louis' many times over.

We are a letter of Christ;

his seal is upon us.

The point is that it is not the size of the building that counts, but who signs the letter. One thinks of Paul's word to the church of Corinth: "You show that you are a letter from Christ. . . written not with ink but with the Spirit of the Living God. . ." (2 Cor. 3:3).

The church is never in a defensive position as long as we remember who we are, and whose we are: the body of Christ through whom he intends to become head over everything. Christ himself signs the letter of the church. It is Christ with whom every power in the universe must reckon. We who make up the church are not operating out of human wisdom and strength alone; we are a new creation, a fellowship of Resurrection life. We are a letter of Christ; his seal is upon us. The church is Christ's body—the fullness of him who fills everything in every way.

BEING CHRIST IN THE WORLD

The image of the church as the body of Christ speaks primarily of serving. To be the body of Christ is to be his presence in the world. Let's ponder what that means.

Being Christ in the world means that we must see through the eyes of Christ. Through Christ's eyes, there is no East or West, no black or white, no slave or free, no male or female. All are one in Christ. Through Christ's eyes, every person is of worth, and the church must respond in loving concern for each one. We must not be selective in our outreach, seeking only those who are like us. In Christ's eyes, every person is a person for whom Christ died.

Not only must we see through Christ's eyes, we must also speak with the voice of Christ. And we must speak to people in every situation and every condition. It is not a matter of social gospel or personal gospel; it's a matter of the good news of Jesus Christ. War and peace, inflation and the national deficit, how the government spends the taxes we pay, where and how people live, abortion, pornography, adultery, immigration—whatever is of concern to human beings is a concern to the gospel. The gospel has something to say for our human plight, and we can't forbid it from addressing any area of human life. Nothing is off limits to Christ.

The church, then, must speak fearlessly and compassionately the word of God's good news to every person, wherever he or she may be. But that's not all; the church must also heal with hands of Christ. The ministry of the church is the ministry of redemption and healing.

I served Christ Church in Memphis, Tennessee, for twelve years before becoming president of Asbury Theological Seminary. During my last weeks at Christ Church, we received a lot of mail—Jerry and I were overwhelmed with the outpouring of love. But the letters that moved me most deeply were those that witnessed to the transformation that had come through the ministry of the church. Over and over again, people said in one way or another, "the church has been Christ to me."

Consider, for example, a young man who had fought a battle with his sexuality and was being healed. He was finding the power to leave a lifestyle behind; in fact, he was planning to get married and was disappointed that I would not be the pastor performing his wedding. Four sentences in his letter captured the depth of his gratitude.

Thank you. You knew all about me and you loved me. Thank this congregation. They didn't know, but had they known, I believe they would have loved me just the same. Christ is present here.

I thanked God then that the congregation had come through, and as a result, so had this man. The church had been the body of Christ to him, rather than just some paintedup, no-different-from-anyone-else Easter chicken. That's about as beautiful as it gets.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- What does it mean to you to be a part of the body of Christ?

- In what ways has the church represented the body of Christ to you?

- If you were to be honest, how do you do at seeing others through the eyes of Christ? Why do you think that is?

WHAT DEFINES CHRISTIAN COMMUNITY?

Day 31

Dear friends, let us love one another,

for love comes from God.

1 John 4:7

The poet Robert Frost once wrote, "Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in." Christian congregations are often called families of faith, suggesting that the church is that family's home. That's a good picture of the church—a home of grace, the only institution I know where the requirement for joining is that you are not worthy to be a member.

Remember that the message of the Bible is not that we are perfect, or that we should be perfect in the way we normally define that word. The point instead is that God is gracious. Even though we have faults, we have been assigned a place in God's family and a room in God's home. All we have to do is be humble enough to admit our need for such a thing—and be willing to extend to others the same grace that we hope they will extend to us.

Make no mistake: God planned for us to live in communities and environments of grace. We all need grace. All of us enter relationships with others with a mixed bag of strengths and weaknesses. Some folks engender immediate trust; others give us reason to disregard them and write them off. But God created us for community, meaning that we need to trust God and others.

In such a community and environment, we not only deliberately pay attention to and seek to care for others, but we also begin to trust people who are different from us. You can see this dynamic in action at any Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. In that setting, you'll find people from many different ethnic groups: Hispanics, African Americans, Asians, Caucasians. There will be rich and poor folks, men and women, young and old. All have one thing in common: they are battling an addiction. The primary dynamic of the meeting is humility and trust, expressed in statements like, "Hi, I'm Tom, and I'm an alcoholic."That beginning point of humility and trust breaks the grip of alcoholism. If grace can happen in an arena like AA, it can certainly happen with the church, as well.

Although our Christian faith and experience must be personal, they cannot be private. A personal experience of Christ kept private soon dies, because there is no such thing as solitary Christianity. Whether or not this has been your experience, there is no true Christianity apart from the church. The more private we seek to make our faith, the more distorted it becomes. Jesus' life and ministry were never matters of private religious feelings that he kept to himself; he lived his life for others.

GOD ADDICTION

What, then, does it take to become a true Christian community? First, I believe, is a complete obsession with God. If we are not completely obsessed with God, we fall short of what should define us.

It's okay if you don't like the way I express that. But if you are going to disagree, first consider what I mean. The driving power of our life is our response to the greatest commandment sounded by Jesus: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength" (Mark 12:30). God should be so real to us that we pulsate with the unshakable conviction that in God we live and move and have our being; that in God lies all truth, love, goodness, and beauty.

There are different kinds of knowing. It interests me that in both the Old and the New Testament, words for sexual intercourse are translated as knowing. Adam knew Eve, and she conceived. Joseph did not know Mary, yet she conceived a child of the Holy Spirit. The Bible presents that kind of knowing as the deepest human bond—the joining together of male and female.

Then there's the word of Paul to the Ephesians, the prayer that they could "know this love that surpasses knowledge" and "be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God" (Eph. 3:19). Yes, there are different kinds of knowing, just as there are different kinds of congregations, and different kinds of places where people think and talk about God. The hope, however, is that no matter what kind of congregation, denomination, or cultural composition, your church would be a community defined by a complete obsession with God.

In a challenging Christianity Today article entitled "Saint Nasty," Mark Galli called the obsession of the saints "God addictions." The most revealing expression of this addiction is the prophet Jeremiah. Like so many others, he was so Goddriven that he couldn't break his fixation even when he wanted to. Listen to a verse from Jeremiah chapter 20:

But if I say, "I will not mention him or speak any more in his name," his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot. (v. 9)

SOUR SAINTS AIN'T NO SAINTS AT ALL

In addition to being obsessed with God, I believe the Christian community should be defined as one that is happy and holy. Wesley talked about being holy and happy. Authentic and strength-giving holiness does not begin with— nor is it preoccupied with—rules and regulations; rather, it begins with God. Holiness that centers on rigid rules and regulations turns us into "sour saints," self-assessing and constantly stressed out in seeking to keep the law. Sour saints ain't no saints at all.

We become holy as God shows us moral

and spiritual things in startling clarity,

and gives us the strength to do his will.

For holiness to be happy, it must be connected with the Holy Spirit. We don't become holy by "main strength and awkwardness," to use a Mississippi phrase. We become holy by the power of the Holy Spirit. With heart and soul and mind consumed with God, our joy lies in doing God's will. We become holy as God shows us moral and spiritual things in startling clarity, and gives us the strength to do his will. We not only become holy, we also become happy. Show me a person who is holy but not happy, and I'll show you a person whose holiness is at least a bit distorted. Let's look to Paul's word to the Colossians:

Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. (3:16)

That's the description of a joyful and holy community: the word of Christ dwells within it richly; it is a happy community, one that sings with gratitude.

Holiness should be contagious. I was talking with Ron Crandall, a professor at Asbury Seminary, about this, and he reminded me of C. S. Lewis's phrase, "the good infection."Lewis used this phrase in his book Mere Christianity to describe the Holy Spirit as the third Person of the Trinity, generated out of eternal love, for God is not static. "The union between the Father and the Son is such a live and concrete thing that this union itself is also a Person."

Acknowledging that he might be thought irreverent, Lewis contended that the most important difference between Christianity and all other religions is that the life of God is in the Trinity—and is a kind of dance. In other relationships, the spirit, spelled with a lowercase s, does not actually become a "person." But in the divine dance of love, the Spirit is truly a Person who is one with and yet other than the Father and the Son. Lewis then writes:

And now, what does it all matter? It matters more than anything else in the world. The whole dance, or drama, or pattern of this three-personal life is to be played out in each one of us; or (putting it the other way round) each one of us has got to enter that pattern, take his place in that dance. There is no other way to the happiness for which we were made. Good things as well as bad, you know, are caught by a kind of infection. If you want to get warm you must stand near the fire: if you want to be wet you must get into the water. If you want joy, power, peace, eternal life, you must get close to, or even into, the thing that has them. They are not a sort of prize which God could, if He chose, just hand out to anyone. They are a great fountain of energy and beauty spurting up at the very centre of reality. If you are close to it, the spray will wet you: if you are not, you will remain dry.

A NEW PATTERN

The New Testament makes it abundantly clear—as do the early church fathers—that the early Christians saw themselves as part of a new creation. By coming together, they were shaping a new pattern for the human community, a pattern of love and sharing which reflected the very life of the Trinity.

Paul described the essence of the new community, the church, in his call to bear one another's burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ. In his book Christian Wholeness, my friend Tom Langford expressed it this way:

Our strength, as Christians, comes from our relation to God and to the people of God. We are directly related to God, and in that relationship we find our ability to move to action and to live for others. Indirectly we receive the strength of God through sharing in Christian community. This is a sharing which empowers, guides, corrects, and renews our ability to be and to serve.

Emphasis upon Christian strength is often neglected for fear of abuse, and the strength given by community is often neglected because it is so meagerly realized in contemporary experience. Yet the church is the Body of Christ; it is the special embodiment of the Holy Spirit. The church is the community graciously given by God to persons who need and who intensely seek community. Into our solitary, isolated style of living there comes a concrete community of persons who are willing to bear one another's burdens, enhance one another's living, to be together in joy and in sorrow, in hope and in hurt, at ordinary moments and in critical junctures of human experience.

In the context of the church, strength comes from lives which are bound together. The chief binding is not that of a desperate clinging to one another in a dangerous and frightening world. . . . The deeper truth, however, is that persons in Christian community are bound together by a common love, by a common worship, and by a common mission. The church is the community of persons who are in community with Jesus Christ. It is a community of persons precisely because there is a common center for their lives.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- On a scale of one to ten (ten being the highest), how "addicted" would you say you are to God? Why is that?

- In what ways could holiness be contagious? What about joy?

- Is your congregation bound by common love, common worship and common mission? In what ways can you individually improve—or detract from—the situation?

THE PEOPLE OF GOD

Day 32

Once you were not a people,

but now you are the people of God.

1 Pet. 2:10

I was converted under the powerful preaching of Brother Wiley Grisson, a preacher at the Eastside Baptist Church in Perry County, Mississippi. Holy Communion was not a big part of the worship life of that congregation; they observed it twice a year. That's the way they talked about it, too—they observed it. They would not have been familiar with the word Eucharist, our term for Holy Communion. They would not understand—and would certainly be taken aback—to hear me refer to one of their classic gospel songs as a great Eucharistic hymn.

All the same, I remember the joy with which we sang "Come and Dine." Today, when I am in a worship service where people are cold and formal, moving through the liturgy without feeling, not truly acknowledging who we are as Christians, I remember that song and how those people sang.

Jesus has a table spread

Where the saints of God are fed

He invites his chosen people, "Come and dine";

With his manna he doth feed

And supplies our every need;

O 'tis sweet to sup with Jesus all the time!

And how the chorus would ring out:

"Come and dine," the Master calleth, "Come and dine";

You may feast at Jesus' table all the time;

He who fed the multitude, turned the water into wine,

To the hungry calleth now, "Come and dine."

For those weary, hardworking, poverty-bound country folks, this was the very best image for fellowship: a meal together. They knew joy, despite their circumstances, because they were confident of their salvation. They knew that one day there would be a great banquet spread in heaven; and they knew that Jesus would be the host to welcome them home. The joy of salvation was not squelched, no matter what might be going on in their grinding everyday lives.

PART OF GOD'S HISTORY

Earlier this week, we considered "the body of Christ" as a New Testament image of the church. "The people of God" is also one of the most prominent images in Scripture. Consider 1 Peter 2:9-10:

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.

The church, then, is the people of God, called especially to fulfill God's purposes. Notice that Peter applies all of the Old Testament images of "the people of God" to the New Testament church: "a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation." This image, then, grounds the church in the history of Israel. Having heard the promises of God, and knowing God's discipline and mercy, the church, the "people of God," also knew that it had received a distinct calling. This calling was to "declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light."

When this image is alive in our congregations, we know we are a part of God's history. When we are firmly grounded in that knowledge, our evangelism, mission, and worship becomes a part of God's working out his purpose in history. The local church becomes a kingdom community.

FELLOWSHIP

One of the most important characteristics of the "people of God" image is fellowship: we belong. We belong to Christ, and we belong to each other. That's what the people at Eastside Baptist Church sang about: "Come and dine." We are part of a kingdom people whose roots stretch back to creation, to God's call to Abraham, and our hope stretches forward to a time when all the people of God will be gathered in the kingdom for a heavenly banquet. When this image comes alive in our local congregations, our church will begin to look more like the church.

John Wesley emphasized this dimension of fellowship in the way he structured the Methodist movement. He had an exceedingly strong doctrine of the church, and his commitment to the church was unquestioned. He remained a priest in the Church of England, resisting the idea of the Methodist movement becoming a separate body of believers. He urged all the members of the Methodist societies to stay in communion with and to receive the sacraments of the Church of England. His beliefs and his life demonstrated his love and commitment to the established church.

Yet Wesley knew that it took more than hearing the Word and participating in the sacraments for Christian growth and discipleship. A deep fellowship for mutual encouragement, examination, accountability, and service was essential.

There is a dubious story of how actress Tallulah Bankhead went into an Episcopal church that was so "high" liturgically that Roman Catholics were said to attend to see what it was like in their church before all the reform of the second Vatican Council. The procession came in, and it was quite a spectacle, including a crucifer and Bible-bearer, a handsomely robed choir, and a retired bishop who wore a gem-studded chasuble and waved a censer that emitted a cloud of incense. Bankhead, so the story goes, reached over and touched the old gentleman. Getting his attention, she said in her gravelly voice, "Dahling! Your gown is divine, but your purse is on fire."

When the fellowship of the church

comes alive by the presence

of the Holy Spirit, it draws people.

That's what evangelism is all about.

That's not the kind of fire we need in the church! We need the fire of Christian fellowship, shaped and empowered by the Holy Spirit—the kind of fellowship Wesley talked about when he talked about one loving heart setting another heart on fire.

Effective evangelism happens when the congregation becomes a living witness, when we move from seeing evangelism as a special program, inspired preaching, or individual Christian testimony to the church and its fellowship being the evangelist. In fact, the research of Wesley scholar Thomas Albin suggests that the early Methodists often witnessed the experience of justifying grace only after they had participated in small group experiences for a period of months or even years. What they knew about Christ, as a result of John Wesley's preaching, did not become real for them personally until they had experienced the fellowship, nurture, and accountability of the people of God.

When the fellowship of the church comes alive by the presence of the Holy Spirit, inspiring and empowering people to care for one another, the fellowship is redemptive within itself, and it draws people. That's what evangelism is all about.

COGNITIVE DISSONANCE

Through the years, I have kept a note from a fellow in our congregation in Memphis. He was a part of our singles ministry. I heard him play the flute in a singles talent show and urged our director of music ministries to have him play in the worship service. He had played in one of our Christmas services and I wrote him a note of thanks. This stimulated his note to me:

Dear Maxie:

In my adult life I've experienced events that I didn't think possible. My first wife married my best friend, my second wife killed herself, and I've been left with enormous debts. However, I discovered Christ United Methodist and Positive Christian Singles. The unconditional acceptance and true Christian love of PCS Social Singles has changed my life forever. There's no way to describe how, for the first time in my life, I'm truly happy and at peace with God and myself. I may not ever have much money, but there's no one in this church any richer!

My friend experienced a fellowship that was redemptive within itself; it was not simply one person doing evangelism, but the fellowship as a whole, the congregation becoming the evangelist.

Stanford University psychologist Dr. Leon Festinger developed a theory called "cognitive dissonance." As strange as it may sound, it is actually very simple. It refers to our awareness of the big gap between our ideas and our actions. It's about what we believe versus what we do; our goals versus our deeds.

The big problem of the church, I believe, is cognitive dissonance: we know but we don't act. We have head knowledge, but our souls are not burning with the faith that won't let us sit still. We continue to debate the purpose the church. Why so? It is so clear, underscored in every chapter of the New Testament:

Go into all the world and preach the good news to

all creation. (Mark 16:15)

a Whatever you did not do for one of the least of

these, you did not do for me. (Matt. 25:45)

Our witness is in word and deed, in our speaking and in our actions. Our witness is also in the quality of our fellowship. I do believe that our personal testimony is important, but the quality of our fellowship within the Christian community is another ingredient in proclaiming the wonderful deeds of him who called us out of darkness into his marvelous light. There must be a quality about our life together that will reach out and invite— and when people come, the fellowship must be redemptive.

Are we ready, then, to work on this together, to "come and dine?" There is much work to be done, and the people of God are the ones most fit for the job.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- What has God taught you through the fellowship of other Christians?

- Why might congregational evangelism—the idea of the church itself being the witness—be as important as individual evangelism?

- What does it mean to you to love your neighbor as yourself?

ESSENTIAL CHARACTERISTICS

Day 33

They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching

and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to

prayer. Everyone was filled with awe, and many

wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles.

Acts 2:42-43

Can you imagine being a member of the first church? From the very beginning, it was miraculous. In a single day, according to Acts 2, some three thousand people gladly received the gospel and were baptized. That marked the mighty beginning of a church that would turn the world upside down. It would be worthwhile, then, for us to take a closer look.

A LEARNING CHURCH

The early church was made up of people who had come to a sure knowledge of salvation through Christ's death and Resurrection and had received the living presence of his Spirit. Those first Christians were sure of who they were, because they were sure of Christ.

Does that raise a question in your mind? Are we sure of who we are? One of the primary tasks of any congregation is to recover a strong sense of identity. This church at Pentecost was made up of people who were thoroughly convinced, soundly converted, and Holy Spirit-filled.

That's not all: another reason to look to the first church for inspiration, encouragement, and guidance is that it was a learning church. In the King James Version, Acts 2:42 says that the church members "continued steadfastly in the apostles' doctrine." The word for doctrine is an active rather than passive term. In his book The Acts of the Apostles, William Barclay explains this approach to understanding the continually unfolding wisdom of God:

One of the great perils of the Church is that it offers a static faith which looks back instead of looking forward. The riches of Christ are unsearchable and inexhaustible, therefore we should ever be going forward. (Ever seeking to probe the mystery and find its direction for our present day life). The Christian must journey, not looking to the sunset, but to the sunrise. We should count it a wasted day when we do not learn something new and we have not penetrated more deeply into the wisdom and the grace of God.

A PRAYING CHURCH

The first church was also a praying church. You can't miss that, even at a casual reading of the text: "They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer" (Acts 2:42).

Not that long ago, I came across Psalm 130 in my devotional reading. For me it is one of the most moving of the psalms, and I especially like verses 5 and 6:

I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,

and in his word I put my hope.

My soul waits for the LORD

more than watchmen wait for the morning,

more than watchmen wait for the morning.

I am sure this psalm was often on the people's lips. They were a praying people, as part of the faith life of Israel.

The believers who received Christ at Pentecost may have known those verses, too. They had the vibrant, vital presence of the Spirit, and it invested their prayers with even deeper meaning. They could wait for the Lord as a watchman waits for the morning, because of the sure gift of the Holy Spirit. They took into that early fellowship their strong commitment to prayer, which was now clothed with new power, the power of the living Christ, present through the Holy Spirit. No doubt, the early church was a praying church.

Today, we need to be the same. I am convinced that we are not as effective in our Christian living as we could be, and we do not live in the power of the Holy Spirit because we don't spend enough time on our knees.

A SHARING CHURCH

The early church was also a sharing church. Their sharing is as important as any other aspect. "All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need" (Acts 2:44-45). They were a radical people— it was their response to the Holy Spirit working in their lives and making them genuinely concerned for the total community's well being.

Unfortunately, the system didn't work, and the church gave it up before the end of the first century. It failed simply because of sin, not because it wasn't God's way. There is no question about it: the model reflects the heart and mind of Christ. Those early Christians had an intense feeling of responsibility for each other. So great was their commitment to one another that they willingly sold everything they had and distributed the essentials of life according to the need of everyone. And remember, all of that was in response to the living Spirit of Christ taking control of their lives. It was a sharing fellowship.

A CHURCH IN FELLOWSHIP

I once read of a seminary professor whose last years were spent in and out of hospitals, suffering from a debilitating and incurable disease. As he reflected on his ministry, he said that when he began, he thought of himself as the expert, standing upon the bank of the stream of life, shouting instructions to the swimmers down below.

In the second stage of his ministry, if he saw someone going down for the third time, he would plunge into the water, get the person started in the right direction again, and then return to the bank. He was the rescuer.

But during his last years, he saw the human family—his fellow strugglers in the water, their arms around each other, all trying to reach the shore. What a marvelous image of the church: fellow strugglers, arms around each other, committed to the same Lord and to the same purpose in life.With that picture in mind, let's pursue one more essential characteristic modeled by the early church: fellowship.

Almost everything that happened in the early church took place either within the fellowship or grew out of the direction and power received from the fellowship. For the most part, the believers practiced their fellowship in small groups—gathering in homes, breaking bread together, listening to the teaching of an apostle, sharing with one another about their lives, praying for one another, and then returning to the world.

As we noted earlier, John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist movement, knew that it took more than hearing the Word and participating in the sacrament for Christian growth and discipleship. A deep fellowship for mutual encouragement, examination, accountability, and service is essential. Colin Wilbur Williams explains:

Wesley sought to restore the depth and transforming power of the fellowship present in the early Church. He felt the Church of England did not sufficiently provide for the fellowship of Christian people, which he sensed to have been the unique characteristic of the early Church. Speaking of the failure of the fellowship of the Church of England, he wrote: "Look east or west, north or south; name what parish you please: is there Christian fellowship there? Rather, are not the bulk of parishioners a mere rope of sand? What Christian connection is there between them? What intercourse in spiritual things? What watching over each other's souls? What bearing of one another's burdens?"

Wesley established class meetings to provide the fellowship essential for Christian growth and discipleship. I do not believe there is anything more essential for growing as a disciple than this kind of experience.

I've seen it in my own life—I could share witness after witness of the power of small-group fellowship, the growth it provides, the changed lives, the attitude shifts, even the vocational moves. We all need a support system; without it, we can't stay alive spiritually, and many people can't survive emotionally or even physically.

We all need a support system;

without it, we can't stay alive spiritually.

Consider this example: a man had been unfaithful to his wife, walked all over her, used her, and went his own selfish way. At the same time, he kept coming back to his wife, asking her to accept him, and promising to be faithful. The story repeated over and over again, until the woman could take it no more. She committed suicide. That woman had a friend in our church who had a similar experience with her own husband. The church member told me the story of her friend's suicide. As she wept, she confessed, "That has been my temptation. You don't know how many times I have been on the verge of suicide. But I couldn't follow through on my temptation, because of the love and support of Christ through this church."The people in her small group, she said, literally kept her alive.

You see, at the heart of small-group fellowship is the genuine care that all of us desperately need. We study, we pray, we talk with one another at a level deeper than the superficial conversations that make up most our days, and by the work of grace, a community of caring develops. Who doesn't need that?

One of the most exciting things I see happening in the church today is coming from people coming together as "missional" groups. They are committed to discerning God's will as individuals. They want to know the best way to invest themselves vocationally as servants of Christ. They are also committed to finding a corporate expression of ministry in which to live out their call as Christians together.

As an expression of this dynamic, I have seen four young couples in Memphis deliberately relocate from middle-class suburban neighborhoods to a community of the working poor fighting all the battles of poverty: drug infestation, substandard housing, and the diminishing of identity. I have seen small groups, inspired separately but acting corporately, ignite a congregation into taking on a radical ministry of serving designed to transform an entire urban residential community. The primary expression of this ministry is redevelopment, not only of housing needs but also of community structures—all in the name of Jesus Christ. I have seen the radical commitment of four young doctors, who came to Memphis just out of medical school "on mission," result in the establishment of Christ Community Clinic, which has become a national model for delivering health care to the poor.

Memphis is not unique. Anywhere Christians are being faithful in the church, these incredible changes can happen. But they don't just occur naturally—it takes guidance from the Holy Spirit, as well as the support of a loving congregation that understands learning, praying, sharing, and fellowship as much as the people of the early church.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- When you hear stories about the couples who gave up the comforts of their suburban neighborhoods for the challenges of poverty-stricken communities, how does that make you feel? Inspired? Challenged? Uneasy? Why do you think that is?

- Where do you personally find fellowship in the body of Christ?

- How is your congregation like/unlike the early church?

THE PRIESTHOOD OF ALL BELIEVERS

Day 34

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation,

a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of

him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.

1 Pet. 2:9

Early one morning, a woman heard the garbage truck arrive, and suddenly remembered that she had not put out her trash the night before. She was barely out of bed; her hair was rolled in those ugly, prickly wire curlers; she had on a shabby bathrobe; and her face was covered with a chalk-like, white cream. She was a sight to behold. She went running out and shouted to the garbage truck driver, "Am I too late for the garbage?"

He took one look at her and said, "No, hop right in!"

This woman definitely looked peculiar, but the King James Version uses the word "peculiar" in a different way—to describe God's chosen people, who have been called out of darkness into God's wonderful light. The word peculiar comes from Latin, meaning "of one's private property." So, as Christians, our relationship to God is unique: we are God's own people, God's possession.

Our identity and vocation—as both individual Christians and the corporate church—are tied together and shaped by the nature of God, to whom we belong. In Acts 15, Paul and Barnabas witnessed to what God was miraculously doing among the Gentiles. James sought to interpret their story: "Brothers, listen to me. Simon has described to us how God at first showed his concern by taking from the Gentiles a people for himself" (Acts 15:13-14). The Kingjames Version calls it "a people for his name." The Greek word for people is laos.

Our identity comes from God and our relationship to God. He has taken "a people for himself," or "a people for his name."

Throughout the history of the church, there has been a lay/clergy dichotomy—a sharp division between those who "do" ministry and those to whom it is "done." There is something ironic about the development of this dynamic, because there is absolutely nothing in the New Testament to suggest the notion. In his book The Other Six Days, R. Paul Stevens reminds us that the word layperson (laikoi) was first used by Clement of Rome at the end of the first century but was never used by an inspired apostle to describe second-class, untrained, and unequipped Christians. Stevens suggests that we ought to eliminate it from our vocabulary. I'm not sure about that, but we need to stay aware of the fact that "laity" in its proper New Testament sense of laos—the people of God— is a term of great honor denoting the enormous privilege and mission of the whole people of God. That's what Peter is talking about. Once we were not a people at all—but now, in Christ, we are a "chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God."

The church does not have a ministry;

it is a ministry. It does not have

a mission; it is a mission.

Here is a rather ironic twist: Stevens tells us that the word clergy comes from the Greek word kleros, which means "the appointed or endowed" ones. But here's the kicker. In Scripture, this word is not used for the leaders of the people, but rather for the whole people of God (Col. 1:12; Eph. 1:11; Gal. 3:29). Again, ironically, the church is without laity in the usual sense of the word, but full of clergy in the true sense of the word—all baptized Christians are endowed, commissioned, and appointed by God to continue God's service and mission in the world.

So underscore this in your reflection: the church does not have a ministry; it is a ministry. It does not have a mission; it is a mission. There is only one people in the church—God's own people. "Only a layperson" is a phrase that should never be found on our lips. It is irreverent and demeaning and a denial of the truth.

God has adopted, called, empowered, and gifted all Christians to receive the incredible privilege of being colaborers of God, lovers of one another, and those who share God's love with the world—this is our true identity and the essence of the phrase "the priesthood of all believers."

To gain perspective on this calling, we can observe the areas of the world where the church is experiencing explosive growth. God is bringing revival in China, where thirty-two thousand people pray to receive Christ every day. It's happening in Africa, too; twenty thousand people pray to receive Christ there every day. In Iran—can you believe it—more Muslims have come to know Christ since 1980 than in the previous one thousand years in that nation. We must not give up on the Muslim world.

These revival fires are burning where Christians claim their identity, or where ministers are willing to repent, humble themselves, pray, and seek God's face. These revival fires are burning where people take seriously their call to witness, declaring the praises of him who called them out of darkness into his wonderful light.

The church is growing in those places where Christian believers are open to and dependent upon the Holy Spirit. I have observed it in believers all around the world. They are what I call "practicing supernaturalists." They expect the Holy Spirit to be dynamically present, converting, reconciling, healing, providing, and guiding. It is no wonder that the church is spreading like wildfire in China, Africa, Cuba, and other places around the world, and that stories of miracles abound. Believers fan the fire of the Holy Spirit. Christians in those regions—not just the ordained folks—see themselves as ministers, and they live as such.

Great revival is going on all over the world—and for the most part, the mainline church of America is missing it. Diminishing membership suggests that we have become too secure in our congregations, giving all of our attention to ourselves and forsaking the evangelistic call to go into all the world and preach the gospel. We have become "come-to," rather than "go-to," churches. And the reason for that may be that we don't know who we are and we don't know what our function is.

It is rather easy for Western Christians, especially in the United States, to settle into the comfort and security of congregational life that meets our needs. We worship with our friends and with like-minded people, and we have pastors who function primarily as chaplains: baptizing babies, marrying our children, visiting the sick, and directing funeral services. As a result, the church becomes a kind of "spiritual resting place" by default. Maintenance rather than mission claims our attention and energy.

There is another problem as well. Awakened Christians— those who have experienced a "second touch" and have been renewed and revived by the Holy Spirit in their faith and Christian walk—grow weary from what they experience as dullness, even deadness, in the church. Sometimes we feel bereft of power, and wonder if God is going to act in our setting. Here, then, is a word for us:

Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good. As you come to him, the living Stone— rejected by men but chosen by God and precious to him— you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. (1 Pet. 2:2-5)

There is our power—-Jesus Christ, the living stone, who builds us into a spiritual house. His Spirit, indwelling us, is the constant source of power which keeps us going and growing as God's people. God is not going to give up on his church. The Holy Spirit is alive and working.

EMPOWERED BY THE HOLY SPIRIT

One final observation: the church that is responsive to the gospel and earnestly desires to obey the Great Commission is charismatic by its very nature. By charismatic, I mean that the church came to birth through the Holy Spirit, thus the church lives and functions by the Holy Spirit. Theoretically, no one would disagree with that. But functionally, we do disagree.Where is the mainline denomination, or the classic evangelical denomination, that incorporates this conviction as a core principle by which the congregation orders its life? The charismatic church not only depends on the power of the Holy Spirit for life and sustenance, but also expects a Spirit-empowered community of love and mutual caring where forgiveness, healing, reconciliation, restoration, deliverance, social witness, and the breakdown of racial, economic, and social barriers are anticipated as the norm, not the miraculous.

Let's not count out miracles, though. Consider this story from the book The God Who Hung on the Cross. In the Ukraine, part of the former Soviet Union, thousands of churches had been destroyed, and of course, the building of new church facilities had been banned. But after the fall of communism, the government granted a group of believers a swampland in which to construct a new church.

It took six months, but the Christians packed the marshy bog with fill dirt—wheelbarrow by wheelbarrow. But once they had prepared the site, they could not obtain any bricks to construct their building. So local officials permitted them to tear down a nearby unused nuclear missile silo, a relic of the Cold War.

When the believers started dismantling the silo and carrying the bricks away—again, wheelbarrow by wheelbarrow—one man found a fragile slip of paper, rolled tightly and stuck between two bricks. The others gathered around as he carefully unrolled the old paper and smoothed it flat. "These bricks," he read out loud, straining to decipher the faded ink, "were purchased to build a house of worship. But they were confiscated by the government to build a missile silo. May it please the Lord that these bricks will one day be used to build a house to His glory!"

Those people knew where the power was.

But what about us? Do we know? When was the last time you attempted something so great for God that you knew you would fail unless you were empowered by the Holy Spirit? When was the last time your congregation or ministry looked around, discovered a particular area of concern or need, and attempted to do something about it that on the surface would appear impossible? Maybe you looked at your resources and you looked at the need and you felt it just couldn't be done; there was no way. But you decided to do it anyway, knowing that unless God intervened and provided the supernatural power and resources of the Holy Spirit, you would fail.

You see, we Christians and the church must always be attempting those things that we know we'll fail miserably in unless the Holy Spirit comes with power. It happens—it happens all the time where people are faithful, when they act boldly, when they follow God's will, and when they humbly trust that God will provide.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- Why do you think Christianity is spreading so much more quickly in other countries than in the United States? What kind of hindrances has our society put in place?

- Is your congregation more of a "come-to" or "go-to" church? Why do you think that is? What can you personally do to help it become more "go-to?"

- Think now of the last time you experienced something miraculous. Thank God for that miracle once again. (And if you don't believe you ever have experienced a miracle, ask God to show you how he is at work around you.)

A CHURCH SHAPED BY THE GREAT COMMISSION

Day 35

Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them

in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,

and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.

And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.

Matt. 28:19-20

My mother and father—whom I affectionately called "Mutt" and "Cobell" in my adult life—are buried at the cemetery near Eastside Baptist Church. On Cobell's tombstone are the last words she spoke to Mutt from her deathbed: "I'll see you." On his tombstone is his response: "I'll be there." It was a great witness to their confidence in eternal life and in heaven as our home.

Last words are important, since they often stem from the very core of our being. Let's turn, then, to some of the last words of Jesus:

All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age. (Matt. 28:18-20)

New Testament scholar Otto Michel has said this passage is "the key to understanding the whole of Matthew's gospel" and that these verses are "the summary of the whole gospel."Michel's statement certainly underscores the crucial importance of this word of Jesus. These last words to his disciples represent the marching orders that are to be followed until he returns. There is no more powerful motivational text for Christian mission and evangelistic zeal. Yet in too many cases, this text is not shaping the ministry and mission of our church.

These words, known today as the Great Commission, were spoken by the resurrected Christ, appearing to his disciples. Note that they come after the Resurrection. The gospel is the good news of what God has done to death in raising Jesus from the grave. The heart of the gospel message proclaimed by the apostles was a shout: "Christ is risen!" At Easter, death was conquered and a new ruler was enthroned in the world. "Christ the King!" What happened as a result of that event is absolutely decisive, uniquely authoritative, and universally valid.

"All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me," Christ claimed. "All nations" are to be made disciples and baptized in the name of God. They are to be taught all that Jesus commanded—and the promise that keeps going is that he will be with us "to the very end of the age."

Somehow, though, the Great Commission is no longer a part of the DNA of the church. Could that be because the church is no longer convinced of the uniqueness of Jesus? If that's the case, then we have no compulsion to share the gospel with the world. Let's imagine, then, a church shaped by the Great Commission—one that truly honors the last words of Jesus.

ONLY DISCIPLES CAN MAKE DISCIPLES

Let's first consider the obvious: only disciples can make disciples. This is an example of what Stephen Covey calls "beginning with the end in mind." The bottom line of the Great Commission is discipleship; that's the "end" we must keep in mind. Otherwise, we will end up with an evangelism void of discipleship, privately engaging but socially irrelevant.

Discipleship means following Jesus to the end that we are transformed into his likeness. Herein lies our problem: the majority of contemporary Christians have no compelling sense that being Christian means understanding and conforming our lives to the teachings of Jesus. As a result, our society is too frequently missing Christians who witness by following their Master in modeling justice, peace, and righteousness. How have we missed the point?

Now, a second observation: a congregation of disciples committed to making disciples will become apostolic in style and passion. In his book The Once and Future Church, Loren Mead described three eras in church history. The apostolic era of the church began at Pentecost and was characterized by rapid growth amid hostility and persecution. It ended with the Edict of Milan in 313 AD, when Emperor Constantine "Christianized" the empire. This ushered in a period of seventeen centuries during which the church existed within a culture generally friendly to Christianity. Mead calls this second era "Christendom." Today we have entered another era. Much of the church is once again living in a hostile—or at least indifferent—atmosphere. Mead refers to this as "post-Christendom."

In this postmodern, post-Christendom age, we must become apostolic in our style and passion. In style, we must move from being that previously described "come-to" congregation to being a "go-to" church. Because we've been schooled in the "come-to" church, one credible observer of Christian evangelism claims that 95 percent of all Christians in North America will not lead anyone to Christ in their entire lifetime.

This paradigm shift is not just about style; we must also be apostolic in our passion. For the apostles, Jesus Christ was the good news. This conviction is the only power that will give us the passion to be for our age what the first-century Christians were for theirs. We must be convinced of—and we must be passionate about—what Christ can do for individuals and for society. Our big task is to put the message of the gospel in context for our culture, because Christ's saving power is universal; it is not culturally bound, but culturally friendly and infinitely adaptable.

This week, we spent a lot of time thinking about the church and our congregations as a dwelling place of wonder, the body of Christ, and the people of God. It isn't enough, however, to just be those things and hope that others outside will somehow stumble upon us. No, we must go into the world, taking with us the message of God's extravagant love.

"Going to" may be the greatest apostolic task of our day. You may know the story:

Thirty-six million Americans (14 percent of the population) live in poverty. Are we going to them?

Ninety percent of the United States' population lives in urban settings. Are we going to them?

Seventy million individuals in the United States are under the age of eighteen. Are we going to them?

Nearly one million foreign-born people immigrate to this country every year. Are we going to them?

Thirty-two million people in America speak a language other than English as their primary language. Are we going to them?

We have more unsaved and unchurched people in our nation than ever before in our history—172 million. Are we going to them?

Next week, in the final few days of this study, we'll look more at how we can be partners in the gospel through our prayers, presence, gifts, and service.

THE DWELLING PLACE OF WONDER

Remember the picture of the church as the dwelling place of wonder, as well as the home of grace. It is meant to be a home for all. Remember, too, the illustration of former U.S. President Jimmy Carter greeting former President Richard Nixon with a bold embrace. Is this concept of grace hard to grasp? Have we lost our confidence in the gospel as a saving, reconciling, healing power? If so, how can we return to Wesley's ideal of the church fellowship as "one loving heart setting another heart on fire?" The quality of our fellowship must be so grace-filled that people experience redemptive power in relationship. If it is not a home for all, it is not a home at all.

THE BODY OF CHRIST

Remember that purple-painted Easter chicken? It looked different than the other chickens on the outside, but turned out to be just like them in the end. So what about the church? Are we just like everyone else? Or do we bear the distinctive mark of Jesus? As the body of Christ, we must remember both who we are and whose we are, and that our calling speaks primarily of service. We must see through the eyes of Christ, speak with the voice of Christ, and heal with the hands of Christ. Then, and only then, will we be able to reach a dying world with the saving grace of the gospel. As you have continued your study this week, have you thought any more about your congregation as the body of Christ? Is that body a healthy one?

WHAT DEFINES CHRISTIAN COMMUNITY?

Make no mistake: God planned for us to live in communities and environments of grace. In that type of environment, we begin to pay more attention to others, and we learn to trust people who aren't like us. That's part of the Christian community, but it's not all. Christian communities must also be places where people are completely obsessed with God. They must be places where the people are both happy and holy. Remember that "sour saints ain't no saints at all"; authentic and strengthgiving holiness does not begin with us, and it is not preoccupied with rules and regulations. For holiness to be happy, it must be connected with the Holy Spirit. We become holy only by the power of the Holy Spirit. So how is your congregation? Happy? Holy? Empowered by the Holy Spirit?

THE PEOPLE OF GOD

Recall that one of the most important characteristics of the people of God is fellowship; we belong. We belong to Christ, and we belong to each other. But we can take it a step further. The people of God can move into the place where the congregation as a whole is the witness. When the fellowship of the church comes alive by the presence of the Holy Spirit, inspiring and empowering persons to care for one another, the fellowship is redemptive within itself, and that draws people. That's what evangelism is all about. The problem, however, is that the church experiences cognitive dissonance. We know what we're supposed to do, but we still don't act. As you've pondered this idea, have you been compelled to act? How has your view of the congregation— and your place in it—been challenged this week?

ESSENTIAL. CHARACTERISTICS

This day's lesson took us back to the early church, a great place for inspiration, encouragement, and guidance. We discovered, first, that these early Christians knew who they were: they were thoroughly convinced, soundly converted, and Holy Spirit-filled. In addition, they were a learning church, consistently sitting under the teachings of the apostles. They were a praying church, and they were a sharing church. They would gather in homes, break bread together, and share with one another what was going on. So how are we doing with all of this in our modern congregations? Remember the importance of true community, including the impact of small-group fellowship, which can offer the genuine care that we all need.

THE PRIESTHOOD OF ALL BELIEVERS

Remember that all baptized Christians are endowed, commissioned, and appointed by God to continue his service and mission in the world. In other words, carrying out the Great Commission—or simply representing Christ—is not just the clergy's job. We are all to be co-laborers with God. Recall that a couple of things are happening in those places where the church is rapidly growing. First of all, the people fully expect the Holy Spirit to be dynamically present; and second, they truly embody the priesthood of all believers. As you've continued through this week's study, how has that truth manifested to you? When you look around your congregation, do you see evidence of each person being involved and expecting the Holy Spirit to show up and help them with the tasks at hand? If not, what can you do to better help that happen?

DAY 36: PRIVILEGED PARTAKERS IN THE PROMISE

DAY 37: PRAYERS

DAY 38: PRESENCE

DAY 39: GIFTS

DAY 4O: SERVICE

DAY 4 1: EPILOGUE

PRIVILEGED PARTAKERS IN THE PROMISE

Day 36

. . . I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the

gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this,

that he who began a good work in you will carry it on

to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

Phil. 1:4-6

In the 1950s, a tent evangelist came to a northeastern Pennsylvania town. Among the people who responded to the evangelist's preaching and accepted Jesus were a man and woman who had lived together for many years in a shabby little house on the edge of town. They had a house full of children, but had never married.

After the evangelist left town, this couple came to the pastor and asked him to marry them and to receive them as members of the church. When the pastor did so, one of the officials of the church was indignant.

"Do you expect us to associate with trash taken in by a fireand-brimstone tent preacher? I never thought I would see the day when a Methodist preacher would marry people like that. It's a disgrace."

The pastor replied, "The only disgrace is that some preacher didn't do it sooner. In all the years these people have lived in this town, we have never invited them to our church. I'm grateful that a tent evangelist did our job for us."

Isn't this a fitting story for us? In this final week of our study, we turn our attention to being Christ to others, and being partners in the gospel. What Jesus has been and done for us, we must do and be for others. There really is no choice in this; our life in Jesus and our ministry in his name are inseparable. A spirituality that does not lead to active ministry becomes an indulgent preoccupation with self, and therefore grieves the Holy Spirit and violates the presence of the indwelling Christ.

I think now of Paul's visit to Philippi; the church there was his "joy and crown" (Phil. 4:1). Of all the early churches, it gave Paul the least trouble and the most satisfaction. Paul's letter to the Philippians, then, is one of joy, brimming over with expressions of gratitude, affection, and love.

Philippi was a Roman colony, the leading city of the district of Macedonia. Do you remember how the church was born there? Lydia, a seller of purple silks, was converted, then her entire household responded to the gospel and were baptized with her. A church began in her house. Dramatic events followed: Paul, in the name of Jesus, freed a slave girl from a spirit which made her a source of gain for her owners. As a result of that miracle, Paul and Silas were arrested, flogged, and thrown in jail. But again the Spirit did his work—the jail became the setting for another display of the Holy Spirit's presence and power when the jailer and his household were converted and baptized.

Isn't that a remarkable beginning for a church—the conversion first of a woman and her entire family, then a jailer and his entire family? Think about that: they were probably the most unlikely candidates for church membership that could have been imagined in Philippi. Let me urge you, parenthetically, not to forget that. When was the last time your congregation looked seriously at your community and asked, "What audience are we missing? Who is out there that no church is paying attention to?" Those you think the most unlikely prospects for hearing the gospel may be waiting for you to share it.

Reaching people, however, requires us to be partners in the gospel. Paul gives thanks to the believers in Philippi for their "partnership in the gospel" (Phil. 1:5). This partnership involves three things: privilege, partaking, and promise.

PRIVILEGE

For Christians, it all boils down to this: we belong to Jesus Christ. That is our unique privilege.

Emerson Colaw, a retired bishop of the Methodist Church, tells a story that comes out of his longtime ministry at Hyde Park Community United Methodist Church in Cincinnati. The Taft family (of political fame) was part of that congregation, and the six-year-old daughter of the family was named Mary. During her first week at school, the teacher asked each of the students to introduce themselves and to tell something about their family. When it came little Mary's turn, she stood up and said, "I am Mary Taft. My great-grandfather was the president of the United States. My grandfather was a senator, my father is a congressman, and I am a Girl Scout Brownie."

Isn't that beautiful? We need to celebrate who we are. Our privilege is that we belong to Christ—what a powerful reality! What would happen to your congregation if that reality permeated your corporate awareness?

PARTAKERS

The second word that helps us probe the depths of what it means to be partners in the gospel is partakers. Philippians 1:7 says, "For whether I am in chains or defending and confirming the gospel, all of you share in God's grace with me." The New King James version says, "You all are partakers with me of grace."

Consider now your expansive identity and your solidarity with the Christian movement around the world. What would it mean for your church to grasp the reality of what Paul was talking about when he said "partakers with me of grace"— both in his imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel?

Paul felt that the Philippians were in solidarity with him in prison. What would it mean for your congregation to be partakers of grace with the ones Jesus termed "the least of these": the hungry, the stranger, the naked, the sick, the prisoner?

Mother Teresa, who was remarkably gifted in demonstrating this dynamic of solidarity—this partaking of grace—put her finger on the deepest need of all human beings, and not just those who were dying in the slums of Calcutta. She said:

I have come more and more to realize that being unwanted is the worst disease that any human being can experience. Nowadays we have found medicine for leprosy and lepers can be cured. There is medicine for TB and consumptives can be cured. For all kinds of diseases there are medicine and cures. But for being unwanted, except there are willing hands to serve and there is a loving heart, I don't think this terrible disease can be cured.

Willing hands to serve and loving hearts to love—that's what it means to be partakers of grace, and to enter into solidarity with suffering humanity. But not many of us want to be servants like that, do we? We have the notion that Christianity centers in service, but I submit to you that there is a vast difference between the way most of us serve and the willful decision to become a servant after the style of Jesus. Most of us serve by choosing when and where and whom and how we will serve. We stay in charge.

Jesus calls for something entirely different. He calls us to be servants, and when we make this choice, we give up the right to be in charge. Then, amazingly, we experience great freedom. We become available and vulnerable. We lose our fear of being stepped on or manipulated, or taken advantage of—and don't we all experience those fears? In every church where I have served, people have said to me: "Preacher, I don't want to be taken advantage o f . . . I don't want to be stepped on." But what joy comes—what energizing of life, what power for ministry—when we act out of the desire to be a servant, rather than the pride-producing choice to serve now and then, and when, where, how, and whom we please.

IN DEFENSE AND CONFIRMATION

Paul says we are partakers of grace with him even in prison. But he also says we are partakers in defense and confirmation of the gospel. I could write many pages on this, but just a word: Methodism is being torn asunder today. Everywhere I turn, people are asking, "Is the church going to split? How long can we survive the tension and strife?"

The unfortunate reality is that nearly every Christian denomination is struggling with a few hot-button moral issues that challenge the very fabric of our faith. But if these fiery issues that make news headlines were to disappear tomorrow, we would still be in trouble as a church.

We would be in trouble because we have forsaken the authority of Scripture; we have diminished the uniqueness of

Willing hands to serve and

loving hearts to love—that's what

it means to be partakers of grace.

Christ as God's revelation, as God's gift of himself for our salvation; we have made our personal experience the measure of judgment, rather than the faith once and for all delivered to the saints. When everything is relative, you don't have a center, and there is no way to define a circumference. We need to recover Paul's meaning of being partakers in defense and confirmation of the gospel.

PROMISE

Listen to this breathtaking promise in the words of Paul in Philippians 1:6. He says he is "confident of this very thing, that he who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ" (NKJV) . It is a great day in the life of a pastor and a congregation when they realize the ministry and mission of the church is not dependent upon their human resources. The church is not our idea, anyway. It is God's idea. It is God's kingdom enterprise, and God is in charge.

What a great time this could be in your congregation to turn to a new chapter in your life of faithfulness and service. How that chapter is written will not be dependent upon the gifts and graces of your pastor. The future will be dependent upon:

How clearly you as a congregation hear God's call;

How deeply you feel the heartbeat of a hurting world;

How willingly you will deny self and follow Christ;

How sacrificially you will give your talents and financial resources as servants of the Servant who is Lord; How quickly you will respond to the Holy Spirit's guidance;

How authentically you will live together as though it were a privilege to be the recipients of grace; and

How disciplined you are as a praying people, coming boldly to the throne of grace and holding tenaciously to the horns of the altar until God has blessed you with his presence, and you have yielded your will to God's command.

That's where the secret lies. That's the reason you can rejoice in the promise: he who has begun a good work in you will bring it to completion.

I have seen it happen, and I know it will continue. It was dramatically confirmed for me back in January 1990, when Jerry and I visited churches in what was then Czechoslovakia. There were not many Methodist Christians there, but what committed Christians they were. One pastor who came to spend the day with us in a seminar spent more than half his monthly salary to buy the gasoline to drive to the meeting. As I looked around the room, I saw a people who were filled with great hope. It was no wonder—until November 1989, every church in Czechoslovakia was severely restricted by the communist government. Christians could not evangelize. They had to be careful about how they spoke in public. They could post no public notices on their church buildings. No signs or advertisements could be erected outside their churches. They could make no public declarations. They couldn't even ring their church bells.

Then in November 1989—you may remember the story, it was on television and on the front pages of newspapers around the world—a group of students confronted a group of soldiers, and in the magnificent square of Prague, gave the soldiers flowers. That was the catalyst that brought the revolution against the government out in the open and to full blossom. Everybody took to the streets, and the old communist regime knew it was over.

These devoted Christians told us their story: it was decided that on November 27, at noon, everybody would simply walk out of homes, businesses, offices, factories, and fields. Every church bell in Czechoslovakia would be rung at noon. When that day arrived, bells that had been silent for forty-five years began to ring. It was electric—can you imagine the surprise of the pigeons in those bell towers? Everybody knew that something new had come.

Dr. Vilem Schneeberger, one of the pastors, whom I had known during my years as world editor of The Upper Room, said that for the first time he was able to put a sign in front of his church in Prague. Do you know what he put on that sign? Just four words: "The Lamb has won!"

What a victory! What a sign of the kingdom. The Lamb had won—not the bear, but the Lamb. Not the tiger, but the Lamb. Not the lion, but the Lamb. He who had begun a good work in them—because of their long years of faithfulness and the faithfulness of the body of Christ around the world—had brought it to completion. The Lamb had won. You can count on the promise: he who has begun a good work in you will bring it to completion. We are to be partakers of that promise, and we are to count it all privilege.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- Have you ever questioned whether the promises of the Scriptures apply to you personally? If so, take that to the Lord now.

- Do you consider it a privilege to be a Christian? Why or why not?

- What does it mean to you to be a partaker of grace?

PRAYERS

Day 37

This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—  we know that we have what we asked of him.

1 John 5:14-15

One of my favorite theologians is Charles Schultz, the artist who gave us the wonderful Peanuts cartoons. In one installment, the character Lucy storms into the room and demands that Linus change the television channel, threatening him if he doesn't:

"What makes you think you can walk right in here and take over?" Linus asks.

"These five fingers," says Lucy. "Individually, they are nothing, but when I curl them together like this into a single unit, they form a weapon that is terrible to behold."

"Which channel do you want?" asks Linus.

After a moment, he turns away, looks at his own fingers, and says, "Why can't you guys get organized like that?"

Like Linus, most of us need more discipline and organization in our personal lives. How do we withstand the tyranny of the urgent, not allowing the immediate claims on our energy to distort our priorities and sidetrack us from our mission? The ministries we lead and the people we serve need organizational attention as well. To be sure, most of our churches and ministries are organized, but too many are organized for the sake of organization. Maintenance gets far more attention than mission.

As we move into these last days of our journey together, I'd like to reflect on the organizing principle that members of The United Methodist Church use to order their lives. Vows like these are a part of membership in most churches. Even though the vows may be informal, the practices are important expectations. Every person joining a local United Methodist Church takes a vow to uphold the church with prayers, presence, gifts, and service—not a bad way for any denomination to shape its membership. The first vow that we make is to uphold the church with our prayers. It is no accident that it is first.

HOLY HELPLESSNESS

As a pastor who counsels people, I have felt helpless many times. Especially with alcoholics, other addicts, and the mentally ill, I have come to the point of despair, feeling that I had done everything, but had actually done nothing. In those cases, the best we can do—both the least and the most we can do—is pray. Interceding for others is yet another opportunity for us to offer generous grace to those in need.

When I served a church in California, I pastored a couple there for five years. During that time and for at least five years prior to that, the husband was almost completely debilitated by alcoholism. His wife tried everything, seemingly to no avail. She became a member of Al-Anon, a support group for families of alcoholics. She concluded that her husband was helpless, but she continued to love him anyway and began to pray earnestly for him.

Two years after I moved from that community, I received a letter from her sharing the marvelous news that her husband had been sober for nine months. She had waited that long to write to test the reality of his transformation. And last I heard, many years later, my friend is still sober. Neither husband nor wife would hesitate to affirm the role of prayer in his healing process. And he, especially, is quick to say that it is prayer—his and hers—that keeps him sober.

Make no mistake: prayer is essential.

As we have considered all along our study, love is powerful. Compassion is a compelling force. Even so, though our compassion may be deep and our love seemingly limitless, some situations still require more. Occasionally, we will find ourselves feeling helpless. Consider the mother and father willing to give their lives for a dying child, yet unable to restore health. Consider the heartbroken woman whose husband has left or the man just diagnosed with a serious disease.

When we come to that point of helplessness, when we really feel we have nothing else to offer, our intercession (praying on behalf of others) will possess that deep quality which is often called supplication. It is simply a feeling for, a wrestling with, and an allowing of the Holy Spirit to pray for us as he does. As Paul said:

We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will. (Rom. 8:26-27)

In our helplessness, we are brought to the place where intercession is both purified and powerful. We come to the place of utter faith in God to do what we cannot do.

SPIRITUAL SOLIDARITY

An interesting thing happens when we pray for others.Our praying doesn't bless only the people for whom we are praying. The more we seek to pray in the name and spirit of Jesus, the more we are driven to experience our own weakness and finitude. We remember Gethsemane and the anguish of Jesus as he embraced his human limits. "Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted" (Heb. 2:18). The writer to the Hebrews makes the case that Jesus' suffering and temptation prepared him to be our priest, our great intercessor.

And so Jesus also suffered outside the city gate to make the people holy through his own blood. Let us, then, go to him outside the camp, bearing the disgrace he bore. For here we do not have an enduring city, but we are looking for the city that is to come. Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise—the fruit of lips that confess his name. And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased. (Heb. 13:12-16)

As intercessors, we are to embrace our own weakness as well as the weakness of others. How do we pray for all the poor, the hungry who are dying for lack of food with every tick of the clock? How do we pray for the reign of peace in a world so torn apart by selfish ideology and opposing values?

We intercede by identification. We seek to live in solidarity with the poor, the oppressed, and the suffering of the world. Sometimes we can do that literally, physically entering into the darkness of the sufferer. But most of the time we can't. So our praying becomes a profession of faith. We position ourselves before the God of justice, mercy, and righteousness. We stand with our brother, the suffering Christ. Knowing that in his earthly sojourn of full humanity, Jesus did not meet every need, we anguish with him, as he anguished over Jerusalem. We feel the pain in his heart as he cries out in these words recorded in Matthew 23:37: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing."

Those who practice living prayer often testify that things happen when we pray that would not happen if we didn't pray. People are healed, situations change, conditions are altered, people find direction, revivals come, even the courses of nations are redirected.

God has so ordered life and the

world that our praying is a vital

part of his redemptive plan.

It appears that God has so ordered life and the world that our praying is a vital part of the redemptive plan for individuals and the entire universe. Through intercessory prayer, God does something that would not otherwise be done. There are numerous facets to intercessory prayer, some that we have experienced, no doubt many that are yet undiscovered. But there is one dimension that is such a part of life that we need to give it attention: intercessory prayer is a ministry of love and care.

In his Cotton Patch Gospel version of the New Testament, Clarence Jordan translates Second Corinthians 5:19 in this fashion: "God was in Christ, hugging the world to himself."That's what we do when we pray. We put our arms around another person, a relationship, a situation, our community, even the world—and hug it to ourselves and to God in love. In a mysterious way that we may never understand, something always happens to us, and sometimes in those for whom we pray.

Intercessory prayer also opens our minds to hear what else God wants to tell us about the way we can minister to others. When we pray for another person, we are centered on that person as well as on God. God can then speak to us about the needs of that other person and how we may be instruments of meeting that need. In that way, intercessory prayer can become the launching pad for our service to others. People often say, "Prayer alone is not enough." Frank Laubach, the great practitioner of intercession, reminds us that "prayer that seeks to do God's will is not alone. It will be accompanied by any other approach that God may suggest. It will be accompanied by service, by considerations, by kindnesses of every kind."

We must note that intercessory prayer can also become the power base for our relationships with others. There was a period in my life when I did not take intercessory prayer seriously. During that time, I always felt somewhat frantic and hassled—almost always under pressure for the next appointment or too intense in my relationship with the person with whom I was sharing. Then I began to practice intercessory prayer, always reserving time between appointments to pray for the person with whom I would be counseling next. The practice was revolutionary. I became more relaxed in my relationships, sharper in my perception, and focused in my attention. But more than that, something happened in the people I prayed for, as well. They were more relaxed, more open and honest in their sharing, more receptive to me and what I had to offer, and willing to accept my inability—and often unwillingness—to give advice.

This practice of prayer can be transferred to every area of life. We are empowered to serve others, and we serve with the greatest insight and effectiveness, when we pray for those we seek to serve.

A "WAR OF AMAZING KINDNESS"

Finally, intercessory prayer allows us to invest ourselves in God's design for his kingdom among people and nations. Frank Laubach called for a "prayer army" of ten million people who "would start praying until our minds were in perfect harmony with the will of God . . . who would tip the balance and save the world." He called this a "war of amazing kindness." We have yet to see what could happen should such an army arise!

In the meantime, however, praying for others will bring you to love them. Loving them will lead you to serve them. Serving them will be the open door through which God can move in to save, heal, and make whole.

Make no mistake: the ministry of intercession is very demanding. To be serious about intercession is to be ready to give ourselves for the sake of others. This may be the very reason we don't take intercession to heart.

As Christians, when we look for our clearest picture of God, we look to Jesus. One of the most characteristic dimensions of Jesus' life and ministry was the attention he gave to people around him. He heard blind Bartimaeus call out from the roadside (Mark 10:46-52). Jesus felt the touch of the woman who had been hemorrhaging for twelve years when she reached out in the crowd and touched the hem of his garment (Matt. 9:20-22). He saw Zacchaeus up in the sycamore tree (Luke 19:1-10). He listened to the leper who came to him and said, "If you will, you can make me whole" (Matt. 8:2). If God is like Jesus, then we can know that no matter what we pray or who we're praying for, God hears us. Not only that, but he answers, as well. Just as surely as we speak to God, and as we seek to be related to God, God answers.

There is a marvelous word of the Lord, recorded by the prophet Isaiah, that speaks to this issue. "Before they call I will answer; while they are still speaking I will hear" (Isa. 65:24). What an extravagant word—God hears and God answers. And he waits for us to rise up, reach out, and love others as he has loved us.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- Do you consider prayer the least you can do for someone, or the most? Why do you think that is?

- Have you ever prayed for someone and seen that prayer answered? Remember the experience now. How did that encourage your faith—as well as the faith of the person you prayed for?

- Do you keep a list of people and situations to pray for? Some Christians find it helps keep them on track. If you don't have such a list, would you consider starting one now?

PRESENCE

Day 38

"Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice

and be glad and give him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb

has come, and his bride has made herself ready. "

Rev. 19:6-7

Bishop James Baker lived to be ninety years old— and even at ninety, he had a zest for life. He was too blind to read during the last years of his life, but volunteer readers kept him up on current events and movements. His mind was agile and alert, and he possessed a keen perception that got right to the heart of things and probed their meaning with clear insight.

There were many glowing tributes at Bishop Baker's memorial service. The one that came nearest to summarizing the soul of this great man was a brief word by Bishop Marvin Stuart of the Denver Area. Bishop Stuart told of how his son, Rob, while a graduate student at the seminary in Claremont, had been one of the persons who graciously read to Bishop Baker. He also drove the bishop to church in Pasadena on Sunday mornings and sat with him down front. Over the weeks, the bishop had apparently noticed something he did not quite like about the way Rob sang the hymns. So, one Sunday, at the close of the final hymn, in a quiet voice that could nonetheless be distinctly heard by many people sitting around them, the bishop turned to Rob Stuart and remonstrated, "Rob, don't fade out on the amen!"

Of course there is an admonition here about singing— Methodists in particular are supposed to be a singing people. Their theology and understanding of the gospel and the Christian life is carried forward as much in Charles Wesley's hymns as in John Wesley's sermons. Bishop Baker reminded Rob of that: "Don't fade out on the amen!" Sing heartily. But this is more than direction for singing—it is direction for worship and all of life: don't fade out on the amen.

Amen means "So let it be! God's will be done." On the other hand, hallelujah means, "Praise Jehovah; praise the Lord Most High!" So we say both "amen" and "hallelujah," and we say them in a lot of different ways.

The primary meaning of worship—no matter the style—is to pay attention to God. In fact, I would go so far as to say that the primary task of the pastor is to pay attention to God and to inspire and guide the congregation to do the same. We need to be open to different styles of worship so that people will be able to say "amen" and "hallelujah" in their own tongue—we want to use any and all mediums that will enable them to express "amen" and "hallelujah" in the most authentic way.

What would happen in our worship if everything we did was an effort to lead people to pay attention to God? What would happen if we allowed persons in worship to express their "attention to God" in ways that were indigenous—that is, a part of their being, and their culture?

It's not easy—not easy at all—to say "amen" in worship. I don't mean the shout of a verbal amen, though unfortunately that would be out of place in most worship services. I mean affirming, "So let it be to the will of God."

We are self-centered people. Even at our best, when we are sincere about wanting our life to be filled with meaning and to count for something, it's not easy to say "amen" to the will of God. Worship with integrity is always calling people to pay attention to God, to deliberately put themselves in God's presence, and to say "amen" to God's will.

Simply being religious is not the answer. Having a particular ritual for worship is not the answer. Worshiping just to make ourselves feel good, to find comfort or escape from the world, is not what true worship is all about. The question is not whether our worship should be traditional or contemporary—to change or not to change—it's a matter of whether we are paying attention to God.

WHAT CAN BE

At the heart of worship is hallelujah—celebration and praise. We remember the mighty acts of God in history, but we also remember how God has acted in our lives and we give him thanks.

We shout hallelujah not only for the current state of our lives, but also for the promise of a future that rests in God's hands. Our circumstances may not be so good on any given Sunday morning. Some of us come to worship brokenhearted, grieving because a loved one has died, a spouse has left us, a child has fallen into the wrong crowd, and the future looks pretty grim. We may have lost a job or we may be struggling with an aged parent, where no decision we make can please everyone. Whether or not we come in joy, we come to worship ready to praise God for what is. But we can also come to praise God for what can be.

What does it mean to worship in confidence? The psalmist asked the question, "How can we sing the songs of the LORD while in a foreign land?" (Ps. 137:4). Because our day-to-day lives often seem bereft of God's presence, this same question lingers in our hearts today. In authentic worship, however, we bring the past into the present, and are empowered to believe that things really can be different in the future. We celebrate the past, knowing that just as God has delivered us before, so God will deliver us now. He has not brought us this far to forsake us.

Do people who worship in your church each Sunday experience that kind of confidence? Is the presence of a God who is acting now celebrated and made real? Is Christ, who walks the road of every day, walking the aisle of your place of worship?

There is nothing more essential for individual Christian growth and discipleship than worship. Certainly there is nothing more essential for the "body" (the congregation) than worship. So we vow to uphold the church with our presence. At a very foundational level, our worship defines who we are.

A COMMAND AND A CALL

Weekly worship wasn't meant to be seen as optional for God's people. Consider that one of the Ten Commandments instructs us to observe the Sabbath:

Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates. (Exod. 20:8-10)

Some of us may not resonate with the idea of worship as a command, but consider this: our god is who or what we worship. God's chosen, covenant people were preserved in identity by their worship.

The early Christian community followed the command of God to worship; those first believers came together for worship more than once each week. I believe that's because they understood the true nature and dynamic of worship.When we join with them, when we remember who God is and when we rehearse his mighty acts, we too will say, "amen" and "hallelujah!"

My hope is that we have all taken the vow (or at some point will take it) to worship. And we faithfully keep that vow by gathering with our Christian family every Sunday. We remember God's mighty acts in history and we offer our lives afresh to God, that God may continue to act through us.

MADE READY

In worship, we not only remember God's history, we imagine God's future and we pray, "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done." Even though our vows of "prayers, presence, gifts, and service" can be an often-repeated promise, there are still those who miss the importance of simply showing up. Yes, we are called to be present for those around us in need. But as surely as Christ established the church, part of expressing our love for others means we take part in regular gatherings with members of our faith community. We cannot be responsible members of God's family without being willing to hang out with our siblings.

Again, worship is not an option; it is a command. Beyond that, it is a privilege and an honor. Worship allows us to connect with the one who made us, and that's exciting business, a far cry from the idea of just "paying back a debt to God" or being bored in a pew.

We must acknowledge, too, that the business of praise is not a professional business. It is not restricted to a chosen few, the ordained and the specially trained. It is the business of every believer, everywhere. Participation is essential— worship is not a spectator sport. It is everybody gathered and paying attention to God. Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!

Annie Dillard, in her book Teaching a Stone to Talk, asks this question: "Why do people in churches seem like cheerful, brainless tourists, on a packaged tour of the Absolute?" Then she shares this observation:

On the whole, I do not find Christians, outside of the catacombs, sufficiently sensible of conditions. Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies' straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us out to where we can never return.

That's the awesome possibility that is present whenever we worship. As we pay attention to God, we may be drawn out of ourselves into a living relationship with God from which we can never return. And, if we are privileged to have it happen, we will shout with those gathered around the throne, Amen! Hallelujah! For the Lord our God reigns. Let us rejoice and exalt and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come and his bride—the church—has made herself ready.

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- Have you ever experienced a deeply moving worship service? How did you feel? How did that experience have an impact on your life?

- How are you doing with your commitment to attend worship? Are there areas where you could improve on your vow to be present in your family of faith? If you have any resistance to this idea, take it to God in prayer.

- Has your time in this study helped you focus more on paying attention to God? Have you experienced any changes as a result?

GIFTS

Day 39

Do not wear yourself out to get rich;

have the wisdom to show restraint.

Cast but a glance at riches, and they are gone. . . .

Prov. 23:4-5

There's a wonderful story connected with the terrible earthquake that shook Alaska and almost destroyed the city of Fairbanks in November 2002. Following that earthquake, many people wrote the governor to describe the suffering they had endured and demanded that the state take responsibility. A few weeks later, the governor gave a news conference and reported that among all the correspondence he had received about the disaster, there was a letter from a small boy that included two nickels taped to an index card. The boy had written on the card: "Use this wherever it's needed. If you need more, let me know."

What a spirit! The amount of the gift is not nearly as important as the heart behind it. The real challenge for us is whether, in all things, we're giving our best to the Lord.

Many Christians don't like to talk about money, but it must be addressed. Jesus dealt with money and possessions in a radical way because he knew that our possessions too often possess us. It is a sign of our original sin that we are possessive. The unconverted self, the ego—by nature, it seems—is in bondage to things, slavishly persistent in acquiring and keeping. Apparently one of our natural instincts is acquisition. Children have to be taught to share. Owning and holding, not giving, are natural traits.

The discipline of generosity—the actual giving of money— is essential for spiritual growth. Because the acquiring and holding aspects of our being are so tenacious, generosity must begin with the giving of ourselves. That's what much of this study has been all about. Paul captured this concept succinctly in Second Corinthians 8:5. It is, I believe, the heartbeat of generosity in all things: "They gave themselves first to the Lord and then to us in keeping with God's will."

Committing time and energy to the family of faith comes easily to some of us, but when the offering plate is passed, our comfort turns to denial. We may believe the church doesn't really need our money, but that misses the point. As Christians, we need to give. Giving keeps things in perspective. Before we go any further, an explanation of tithing might help.

Tithing is the biblical pattern established for practicing generosity in the use of our money. The principle, which became a law in Judaism, began not with a focus on money, but rather on all we possess: land, animals, crops, even the bounty of war.

The story of the first offering in history is found in the fourth chapter of Genesis. This is the account of Cain and Abel making their offerings to God. In this story, Abel's offering was acceptable to God but Cain's was not. To understand why, we must look at the quality of the offering. Abel gave the firstlings of his flock, while Cain's offering seems to have been an indiscriminate collection of the fruit of the ground. The Genesis story may confuse us to some degree, but in the Epistle to the Hebrews there is this word: "By faith Abel offered God a better sacrifice than Cain did" (Heb. 11:4). That's because God requires the best we have to offer.

As for the first mention of tithing in the Bible, Genesis 14:18-20 contains the story of Abraham (then called Abram) paying tithes to Melchizedek, who was a king of Salem as well as a priest of God. After Abraham had won a great battle, Melchizedek blessed him and said, "Blessed be Abram by God Most High, Creator of heaven and earth. And blessed be God Most High, who delivered your enemies into your hand." After receiving this blessing, Abraham gave the priest a tenth of everything.

The amount of the separated portion is designated here for the first time—it is the tenth. It was a common practice among ancient warriors to tithe the spoils of war. Abraham, no doubt, was familiar with this custom. Yet there was something different about this act of Abraham: it was an act of genuine devotion. He was worshiping the one true God and was giving to God a tenth of all he received. Therefore, it set the precedent of tithing.

The concept of tithing grows in the Old Testament, and Jacob is the first person on record to enter into a tithing covenant with God:

Then Jacob made a vow, saying, "If God will be with me and will watch over me on this journey I am taking and will give me food to eat and clothes to wear so that I return safely to my father's house, then the LORD will be my God and this stone that I have set up as a pillar will be God's house, and of all that you give me I will give you a tenth." (Gen. 28:20-22)

To be sure, there is something far less than Christian about praying such a prayer. God is not one to be bargained with. We don't make deals with God—he is not one from whom we can buy favors. God is not a godfather in the mafia sense or a cosmic bellhop in some grand hotel. Even so, the story of Jacob and what Jacob is doing is something to reckon with.

When we read the story of Jacob's rising early in the morning, going out and setting up an altar and praying to God as a result of what had happened to him, then the story speaks to us. You remember that Jacob had dreamed that a ladder was set between earth and heaven. Angels of God were ascending and descending the ladder. Jacob beheld the Lord standing above that ladder and the Lord spoke to him, offering great promises, climaxing with the affirmation, "I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you." (Gen. 28:15). After awakening from that sleep, you will recall, Jacob uttered that famous witness, "Surely the LORD is in this place, and I was not aware of it" (Gen. 28:16).

Our relationship with God always

involves giving to God a portion of

that which God has already given us.

When, in reflection, Jacob prays again and enters into that tithing covenant with God, it is on the basis of having received the promise from God. It is as though he is testing that promise and seeking to offer a response to it. That is certainly only the beginning of the development of the tithe in the history of the Hebrew people and in the Christian church, but it symbolizes the fact that our relationship with God always involves giving to God a portion of that which God has already given us.

It is this principle—returning to God a portion of that with which God has blessed us—that must be at the heart of our understanding of the tithe. Moses formulated the principle into law that all faithful Jews were to keep. That law was expressed at the close of the book of Leviticus, after many new statutes, both moral and ceremonial, had been given. The ancient law of the tithe was added as a constant reminder and for preservation and emphasis. Listen to that principle stated as law:

A tithe of everything from the land, whether grain from the soil or fruit from the trees, belongs to the LORD; it is holy to the LORD. . . . The entire tithe of the herd and flock—every tenth animal that passes under the shepherd's rod—will be holy to the LORD. (Lev. 27:30, 32)

After that final law, the Book of Leviticus closes with this word: "These are the commands the LORD gave Moses on Mount Sinai for the Israelites" (Lev. 27:34). The precedent was set firmly in the fabric of Jewish life.

The classic and most dramatic warning about tithes, however, came from Malachi. In language that is strong and unmistakable, this prophet pointed out that disobedience to the law of the tithe was the cause of Israel's apostasy in his day and that reformation in this regard was the sure and only way to the restoration of the divine favor and blessing. Consider it:

"Will a mere mortal rob God? Yet you rob me. But you ask, 'How are we robbing you?' In tithes and offerings. You are under a curse—your whole nation—because you are robbing me. Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this," says the LORD Almighty, "and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it." (Mal. 3:8-10 TNIV)

For many Christians, the scriptural precedent set in words like these is reason enough to commit to tithing. It should be so for all Christians if we are going to be people of "the Book." But that's still not all there is to it.

WHAT MONEY CAN AND CAN'T DO

Earlier I mentioned perspective; giving my tithe to the Lord is an ongoing reminder of what money can and cannot do. As it is wrong to idealize poverty, it is equally wrong to characterize riches as though they were innately evil. Money can make an enormous positive difference in our lifestyles, but it is crucial to maintain perspective about the things money cannot buy. Money can't buy friendship. It can't buy love. It can't buy respect. It can't buy exemption from the problems that are common to everyone.

You see, we don't purchase character, meaning, and direction in life. We can't charge peace of mind, a sense of fulfillment, understanding, and wisdom to our credit cards. Death is the great equalizer—I've never seen a hearse pulling a U-Haul trailer. Eternal life is certainly not for sale, but how we spend our money may rob us of eternal life. Jesus said, "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Matt. 6:21).

On the other hand, what money can do is teach us to let go and let God, to fund ministries that help those in need, to pay the salaries of those who pastor and preach on our behalf, and to allow us to be part of something bigger than ourselves. That last one, I believe, is the reason we are to bring our tithes into the storehouse, that is, the church. The church can use that cumulative money to accomplish far greater things than we could ever accomplish on our own.

I recently discovered a marvelous verse of Scripture that was packed with meaning for me. Does that happen to you now and then? Maybe you've read the passage countless times, but suddenly something happens—a light goes on in your mind; your heart stands at attention as you read a word that never before had registered. For me, it was the ninth chapter of Second Corinthians. I was reading the New English Bible, and this is what verse 10 says: "Now he who provides seed for sowing and bread for food will provide the seed for you to sow; he will multiply it and swell the harvest of your benevolence, and you will always be rich enough to be generous."

Wow! Does it hit you as it did me? Rich enough to be generous! Oh, to be rich in that way! The good news is that any one of us can be; it has nothing to do with how much we earn, or how much we have—we all can be rich enough to be generous. And we will be, when we see life as an opportunity to live in the fullness of Christ, to understand God's great and gracious gifts to us, and to practice passing that generosity on to others however we possibly can. That truly is a life of riches—and definitely one worth living!

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- Has tithing been a challenge for you? Why or why not?

- Has this study changed your perspective on generosity? If so, how?

- Why do you think it is important for Christians to model generosity to the world?

SERVICE

Day 40

Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, "If anyone wants

to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all. "

Mark 9:35

Pastor Mark Trotter once told a story about a young woman who lost her husband, a doctor in India during the Second World War; he died from some tropical disease. The shock of her husband's death sent her into despair, and she lost all interest in life, not caring whether she lived or died. She booked passage on a ship back to America, and on that ship she met the survivor of another tragedy, a seven-year-old boy, whose missionary parents had been killed in the fighting in Burma.

The boy was drawn to the woman—a seven-year-old needs a mother, especially under those circumstances. But she would have nothing to do with him. In fact, she tried to avoid him. She couldn't get outside of her sorrow long enough to comfort the little boy. "I have my own problems to deal with," she said.

One night, the ship was torpedoed and slowly began to sink. The woman came out on deck prepared to go down with the ship. She had no will to live and decided not even to seek an escape. But on the deck she saw the little boy, shivering with cold and fright. He saw her, ran over, and clung to her.

Something came over the woman. She led the boy to one of the lifeboats; they both got in, and for the next several days until they were rescued, she held him. Her friends, looking back on that incident, say they don't know whether the woman saved the boy or the boy saved the woman.

What a true picture of kindness and servanthood; they were yoked together in a fashion that made the way easier for both of them. Why are we so blind that we fail to see how many among us share the same need?

I was with a man recently—a big, macho man, some would say—successful both in terms of professional recognition and material wealth. But that day, he was like a little child as he poured out his pain and talked about how desperately he needed to be loved, held, and yoked together in gentle kindness with his wife. We mistakenly think it is only the woman who needs that in a marriage, but that is not true. All people in all relationships need someone there with us, yoked as Jesus is to us, to help make the way easier. We all need to give—and receive—acts of kind service.

IN WORD AND DEED

Methodists, in particular, should not be surprised that when they become members of the church, they are asked to take a vow of service. Jesus launched his ministry in Nazareth with these words: "The Spirit of the Lord . . . has anointed me to preach good news to the poor . . . has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners . . ." (Luke 4:18-19). When Jesus promised his followers the Holy Spirit, he said, "But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses . . . " (Acts 1:8). We see through these verses that word and deed go together. There are times when the word is the deed—the only deed we can perform. We must speak, even if we can't act. There are also times when acting is the word we speak. Of course, we are most effective when both word and deed are combined.

There is a marvelous statement about the necessity of word and deed in the First Epistle of Peter: "But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed. 'Do not fear what they fear; do not be frightened.' But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have . . . " (1 Pet. 3:14-15).

When teaching the Ephesians about gifts and service in the church. Paul also established the linkage between word and deed, and how both are essential:

It was he who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, to prepare God's people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ. (Eph. 4:11-15)

Here is the conflict: even though we make the decision to serve, undisciplined as we are, we continue to choose when, where, whom, and how we will serve. Thus we continually run the risk of pride, and we are always vulnerable to a good-works mentality that sends us frantically to engage ourselves in whatever deeds of mercy we can devise. How do we deal with these snares?

First, Thomas Merton reminds us that:

. . . he who attempts to act and do things for others or for the world without deepening his own sell-understanding, freedom, integrity, and capacity to love, will not have anything to give others. He will communicate to them nothing but the contagion of his own obsessions, his aggressiveness, his egocentered ambitions, his delusions about ends and means.

If we think we know others and their needs perfectly well, our serving will often hinder rather than help. To combat pride, we must be attentive to the other person (which is a form of submission) as well as having a patient intention to serve the genuine needs of the other, rather than serving our own need to serve. In this fashion, we will be open to the Spirit to guide us in discerning need and in making appropriate responses to need.

As for the good-works mentality—the mindset that tells us that, given a decision to serve, we must immediately spring into action—we must guard against two pitfalls. Our desire to serve may be poisoned by a desire to please. Also, there is the snare of turning our servant action into controlling power over another.

To be a Christian person, one

fully alive in Christ, is to be one

whose life reflects the life of Jesus.

One antidote for a good-works mentality, then, is an ongoing sensitivity to our own unworthiness. The biblical witness is clear—awareness of a calling to service is accompanied by a sense of personal unworthiness. A good-works mentality is also dissolved by keeping alive the conviction that our salvation depends upon God's grace, not our performance. A third antidote to a good-works mentality is an ongoing awareness that our serving is not redemptive within itself; it simply provides the environment, sets the stage, and releases the energy for the person we are serving to be genuinely helped, even healed, by God.

The central issue, however, remains: we deliberately act as servants because we are servants of Christ. As such, our choosing to serve elicits no false pride. In a disciplined way, we choose and decide to serve here or there, this person or that person, now or tomorrow, until we take the form of a servant and our lives become spontaneous expressions of the cross. We begin to understand the difference between being a Christian—the noun form of the word—and being Christian—the adjective. To be a Christian is to be one who professes the Christian faith and has begun the journey. To be Christian—to be a Christian person, one fully alive in Christ— is to be one whose life reflects the life of Jesus.

THIS IS HOW WE KNOW WHAT LOVE IS

I know many people who are ready to give themselves to others and to causes. They are terribly unselfish, yet they don't stop to ask, "What worthwhile gift do I have to offer?" This question always precedes effective relationship. Our task is not just to help someone in a vague sort of way—we need to help them specifically, so they might become the unique person they were intended to be. We are never able to do that until we recognize and accept our own gifts. In fact, much of our "helping" may be just another escape from the demanding task of developing our own potential.

I want to close this study with a beautiful story, one that hits at the heart of selfless service. Beware its innate challenge. Dr. E. V. Hill, a dynamic African American pastor, served a church in the Watts area of Los Angeles. In the 1960s, when horrible riots broke out in his neighborhood, he showed his courage. From his pulpit, he denounced his neighbors who were burning and destroying property and stealing from the merchants. His bold preaching provoked all kinds of threats.

Late one night, the telephone rang. There was something about the way Hill held the receiver that told his wife something was wrong. When he hung up, she wanted to know who had called and what they wanted. Hill didn't want to talk. She persisted, almost demanding that he tell her.

Finally he did. "I don't know who it was," he said, "but they've threatened to blow up my car with me in it."Throughout the night, Hill was restless and uneasy. He couldn't sleep for the longest time, worrying about the threat to his life. Finally his drowsiness caught up with him and he fell asleep about 2 AM.

At seven o'clock in the morning he awakened, terrified. He reached over to touch his wife and she was gone. He couldn't find her anywhere in the house. He then looked out the window to see if she had gone outside. To his great horror, she wasn't on the patio or in the yard. He then realized the car was gone from the carport. He was beside himself and was about to call the police when he saw her turn in the driveway and park the car.

"Where have you been?" he almost shouted at her.

Do you know what she said?

"I just wanted to drive the car around the block to make sure it was safe for you this morning."

"From that day on," the late Dr. Hill said, "I have never asked my wife if she loved me!"

What a picture! Mrs. Hill was paying attention to Jesus; she understood his call to serve in a way many of us can't fathom. "This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers" (1 john 3:16).

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

- How do you think serving others could help deepen your relationship with God?

- Is there anything that hinders you from serving more often? What would that be?

- How can serving others with the right motives help demonstrate Jesus' love to the world?

EPILOGUE

Day 41

Lately I've been hearing the same questions over and over. Where is all of this going to take me? What does it really mean to get serious about the Christian life? I can't answer those questions completely; I'm still trying to Figure them out for myself. But I have learned one thing thus far: the life to which we are called as Christians is one of holy recklessness. Nothing short of utter abandonment to God will do.

I say this now because you have reached a threshold. You can no longer plead ignorance about what it means to be Christian, what it means to be extravagantly loved by God, what it means to be fully alive in Christ. You are responsible now for what you have learned. The invitation is to receive the extravagant love of God—an invitation that, when considered fully, is well nigh irresistible. If we respond to that invitation, we begin to live our lives in Christ, with the exhilarating possibility that we can one day say with Paul, "It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me" (Gal. 2:20 NKJV).

I don't want to scare you. Rather, my invitation to you is to take a leap of faith in your discipleship. This is your opportunity to walk in knowledge and faith, putting into practice everything that we have covered in the last six weeks. What an exciting journey awaits!

Understand that when we fully commit to Christ, our questions no longer matter. We are able to affirm with Paul:

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. . . . Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Cor. 4:8-9, 16-18)

Understand, too, that every decision we make restricts the opportunity for every other decision and narrows the range of our choices. For this reason, the decision of our true relationship with Christ is basic—it is the momentous choice that we must all make and for which we are all responsible. When by some mysterious grace, God touches the intimate center of our lives, at that point we accept or refuse on the basis that henceforth we belong to God or we do not. It is this decision that precludes all other decisions and in which all other decisions are caught up and properly assessed.

Know that your decisions have eternal significance. I am continually challenged by Elie Wiesel. In his remarkable collection of Hasidic tales, he tells of a young couple discussing their marriage announcement with the rabbi. The announcement indicated that the wedding would take place in Berditchev, Poland, on a certain date. The rabbi, with that particular Hasidic wisdom, edited the announcement to read as follows: "The wedding will take place in Jerusalem, but if the Messiah has not come, it will take place in Berditchev."

So, the hour strikes for each of us. We stand before God. This is the day—a day of visitation and testing, a moment of judgment, but, praise God, a moment of grace. The past and the future meet and the source of life and freedom is ours. To miss it is to deny ourselves that for which we must forever seek, that which we eternally need. To miss it is to settle for the ordinary rather than the extraordinary; the natural rather than the supernatural; and to deny the extravagant, bountiful, beautiful gifts God wants to bestow not only on his children as a whole, but on each of us individually.

So, are you ready to turn the page? A new life awaits. May you walk into it boldly, immersed in grace, fully aware of the constant presence of Christ, who will be with us until he returns in glory.

ACCEPTING JESUS

If you don't remember ever confessing that Jesus is your Lord and Savior, you can take care of that right now. Just repeat the prayer listed below. Please let someone else know that you have done it—tell a member of your church or a friend whom you know is a Christian. They will help you take the next step.

God, I know I have made a lot of mistakes in my life. I know that I have sinned. But I believe that you can help wipe the slate clean. I believe you sent your Son, Jesus, to die on the cross for me, and I accept him now as my Savior and Lord. God, I thank you for drawing me to you, I thank you for your forgiveness, and I thank you for the new life you have begun in me. I believe I am a new creation. Amen.

OTHER WORKS BY MAXIE DUNNAM

Alive in Christ: The Dynamic Process of Spiritual Formation

Barefoot Days of the Soul

Be Your Whole Self

Channels of Challenge: Fifty-six Meditations that Inspire and Challenge

Congregational Evangelism: A Pastor's View (The Denman Lectures, 1992)

Dancing at My Funeral

Direction and Destiny: Making Decisions that Shape Your Future

Jesus' Claims—Our Promises: A Study of the "I Am" Sayings of Jesus

Keeping Company With the Saints

Homesick for a Future

Let Me Say That Again: Maxims for Spiritual Living

Living Life on Purpose: The Joy of Discovering and Following Cod's Call

Living the Psalms: A Confidence for All Seasons

Pack Up Your Troubles: Sermons on How to Trust in God

Perceptions: Observations on Everyday Life

Praying the Story: Learning Prayer from the Psalms with John David Walt Jr.

Staying the Course

That's What the Man Said: The Sayings of Jesus

The Christian Way: A Wesleyan View of Our Spiritual Journey

The Devil at Noon Day: Battling Temptation in Daily Life

The Gospel of Mark: Bible Study for Christian Living

The Workbook of Intercessory Prayer

The Workbook of Living Prayer

The Workbook on Becoming Alive in Christ

The Workbook on Christians Under Construction and in Recovery

The Workbook on Coping as Christians

The Workbook on Keeping Company with the Saints

The Workbook on Lessons from the Saints

The Workbook on Living as a Christian

The Workbook on Loving the Jesus Way

The Workbook on Spiritual Disciplines

The Workbook on the Christian Walk

This Is Christianity

Twelve Parables of Jesus: Bible Study for Christian Living

With Kimberly Dunnam Reisman:

The Workbook on the Beatitudes: An Invitation to Kingdom Living

The Workbook on the Seven Deadly Sins

The Workbook on the Ten Commandments

The Workbook on Virtues and the Fruit of the Spirit

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Maxie D. Dunnam is chancellor of Asbury Theological Seminary in Wilmore, Kentucky, where he also served as president from 1994 through 2004. Widely known as an evangelist, leader, and pioneer in smallgroup ministries, he organized and pastored three United Methodist churches before becoming the world editor of the Upper Room Fellowship. He created the Upper Room Cursillo that later became the Walk to Emmaus.

Dunnam served twelve fruitful years as senior minister of the six-thousand-member Christ United Methodist Church in Memphis, Tennessee. He has served as president of the World Methodist Council and is currently on its Executive Committee. He is a director of the Board of Global Ministries of The United Methodist Church and a member of the Executive Committee of the Association of Theological Schools.

In 1989, he was inducted into the Foundation for Evangelism's Hall of Fame. In 1992, he was awarded the Chair of Distinction by the World Methodist Council, and the following year he received the Philip Award for Distinguished Service in Evangelism.

Dr. Dunnam has authored more than forty books, most notably The Workbook of Living Prayer, which sold more than one million copies; Alive in Christ; This Is Christianity; and two volumes in The Communicator's Commentary series. He resides in Memphis, Tennessee, with his wife, Jerry.

Table of Contents

EPILOGUE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

INTRODUCTION

WEEK ONE: COMING HOME TO GOD

Day 1: Incandescent Amazement

Day 2: God's Creation Is Good

Day 3: A Gracious God

Day 4: The Picture of God

Day 5: Coming Home

Day 6: A Roadmap for the Journey

Day 7: Taking It All In

WEEK TWO: A LOVE LIKE NO OTHER

Day 8: The Hint Half Guessed

Day 9: Why We Still Preach the Cross

Day 10: He Comes as He Came

Day 11: A Love Like No Other

Day 12: The Stone Was Rolled Away

Day 13: The Gospel by Which We Are Saved

Day 14: To Live in Joy

WEEK THREE: ALIVE IN CHRIST

Day 15: The Essence of the Gospel

Day 16: Alive in Christ

Day 17: Constantly Abiding

Day 18: Humble and Available

Day 19: The Shaping Power of the Indwelling Christ

Day 20: What Christ Has Been and Done for Us

Day 21: Dying and Rising with Christ

WEEK FOUR: FIT FOR KINGDOM LIVING

Day 22: Christ Frees Us and Fits Us

Day 23: Claiming the Promise

Day 24: The Surest Path of All

Day 25: The Hands and Feet of Jesus

Day 26: Communion Through Conversation

Day 27: Planted by the Water

Day 28: Choosing to Be Whole

WEEK FIVE: THE HOME OF GRACE

Day 29: The Dwelling Place of Wonder

Day 30: The Body of Christ

Day 31: What Defines Christian Community?

Day 32: The People of God

Day 33: Essential Characteristics

Day 34: The Priesthood of All Believers

Day 35: A Church Shaped by the Great Commission

WEEK SIX: PARTNERS IN THE GOSPEL

Day 36: Privileged Partakers in the Promise

Day 37: Prayers

Day 38: Presence

Day 39: Gifts

Day 40: Service

Day 41: Epilogue

ACCEPTING JESUS