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As the year winds down to a close, so too does this blog. But that doesnt mean I’m done blogging, just moving addresses and I’m looking forward to it.
From now on I’ll be blogging over at popeyeprinciple.blogspot.com. The blog is called “The Popeye Principle,” based on a motto I live by that is a mash-up of what the Apostle Paul and Popeye used to say: “By the grace of God I am what I am (and that’s all that I am).”
In my new life we’ll be exploring moments of Grace as they come to us in Scripture and in our daily lives. I’ll still be blogging primarily on my daily devotional readings, but the emphasis will be on how Grace helps us figure out who we are and who God is calling us to be.
Hope you’ll make the move with me and head over for a helping of Scriptural spinach to help you be the best possible you that you can possibly be!
(1 Samuel 25-27)
How many times do we say we’re sorry, but how many times do we actually mean it?
Throughout the story, Saul says he’s sorry, but actions that follow dont back his words. His son, Jonathan, once confronted him, telling him that he was acting foolish in the way he was treating David. Then, in a moment of sobriety it seems, Saul looks at his son and says, “You know what? You’re right. And I’m sorry.”
But does he stop trying to kill David? Is he really sorry for sticking to his personal vendetta, fueled by selfish jealousy and insecurity? No.
Later he’s just exited the cave where David could’ve killed him, but didnt, shearing just the corner of his robe instead. Then it’s David who confronts him at a distance, asking Saul, “Why? Why are you acting this way? What have I done?!” And Saul again, for just that moment, says “I’m sorry.”
Now again in today’s passage–another opportunity for David to kill Saul, sneaking into the camp seemingly to do just that but leaving with only Saul’s spear and water jug. Again, it’s David who asks Saul why. And again, Saul admits to being wrong.
But by the end of my reading today, Saul’s back at it, pursuing his selfish vendetta against a servant who has only been faithful, even when he had every reason not to be.
Saul might have said he was sorry, but he didnt stick with it. It may have sounded good; it was certainly genuine–that moment of clarity perhaps–but without follow-through, the words were empty as a bag of coffee when the last pot’s been brewed.
We have to stick to our sorries, or sorry is just a word.
Our apologies are only genuine if actively practiced.
Repentance is a lifestyle, not a printed confession in some church bulletin that’s run week in and week out.
We must live the words I’m sorry, not by thinking that we are somehow making up for what we have done, but by trying to go and surely sin no more.
In life we get stuck in ruts, and we come to God and loved ones saying we’re sorry, but it often tends to be the same thing we’re apologizing for; subsequently, there comes a point–I believe even with God–that the words just dont cut it anymore, not without actions.
Saul said he was sorry and he meant it, but he didnt follow through with it. We must go out and, yes, say we’re sorry, but then we need to stick with it–to break that pattern, to pave a detour around that road that has become a rut, to start living in a way where the words “I’m sorry” appear in our vocabulary less and less.
No matter how hard we try, there will always be occasions for apologies–it’s just how we’re put together, beastly beauties that we can be. But by Grace, each day, we can begin anew, just like every player gets to skate out of the penalty box.
This one always gets me. Some hand choir and a song from Casting Crowns.
(Deuteronomy 14-16)
Ev’ry seventh year,
all debts were supposed to be
cancelled, forgiven, forgotten.
Ev’ry seventh year.
Ev’ry seventh year,
all slaves were supposed to be
set free, unless they wanted to stay.
Ev’ry seventh year
It didnt matter what had happened
those previous six years. It did,
but not so much that it couldnt be
forgiven; that it couldnt be cancelled out.
That didnt mean in those six years
you were supposed to spend it up
to max it out, to run up your tabs.
But if you had gotten yrself into
a jam—overhead or underwater—
this was the way out, the only way out.
The idea of grace did not begin with the birth of Jesus Christ.
Ev’ry seven years
all debts were cancelled,
all slaves were freed,
the past was sealed.
Ev’ry seven years,
everyone got to start over,
begin anew,
to try again.
Ev’ry seven years.
Were I to tell you that this was the seventh year …
those who are overhead or underwater,
those who have watched their interest rates
up and down, wondering, “Did I really agree to this?”
those bought their dream, only to realize that
dreams cant be bought, they can only be taken away,
those who’ve watched the “sale” in their sign
get scratched out and turned to “closure,”
those who’ve been told that they’re cutbacks,
those who’ve been told “We’re not hiring,”
those who are trying to pay reconnect fees,
those who are waiting for their food stamp cards,
those without heat,
those on the street,
… oh were I to tell you that this was the seventh year
and all debts were off!
It’s not.
It doesnt work like that anymore.
Someone always has to get paid
at your expense,
but
I can tell you
there has been
one debt cancelled–
one debt paid,
and it’s a big one.
Dont wait seven years to figure that out.
Preaching on Genesis 32, I talked about how Jacob faced tough times, yet tried to work things out himself–dividing his property, trying to bribe his brother, Esau, from killing him. And as he wrestled with the fear and uncertainty that he faced, God met him where he was–God wouldnt fight the fight for him, but God would fight with him. That’s my take on the “wrestling with God thing.”
For my illustration (and how could any preacher not use this story this week) I talked about Gregory Smith, who was facing hard times and tried to work things out for himself–robbing a store. And there in the fear and uncertainty he faced God met him where he was–in the form of a woman named Angela, who talked with him–who prayed with him–who helped him understand that, indeed, God’s grace was enough.
This is their story:
1. you can make up for past mistakes.
2. keep yr head down and yr feet moving.
3. even the easiest positions are important (e.g. the long snapper)
4. it isnt over until it’s just about over.
For examples of all of these and more, watch below:
(Numbers 21-22)
This is one of those funny God stories. When the people are griping and complaining, what does God do—sent them snakes.
“Snakes, why did it have to be snakes?!”
I agree with Indiana Jones and the Israelites, ANYTHING else but snakes. EXCEPT wasps—I need an explanation from God on the existence of wasps.
Yet when the Israelites were complaining, God sent snakes. Why? To show them that life really bites sometimes. Figuratively, literally. THEN, when they cry out saying, “Okay, okay, we GET IT?” what does God do? Does God take away the snakes?
NO. God tells Moses—”You know that logo you see on the side of drugstores, hanging in doctor’s offices–the snake wrapped around the pole thing? Yeah, do that and tell people to look at it. Then they’ll be alright.”
God doesnt take away the snakes; instead God just gives an antidote for snakebite in the pole that Moses lifts in the wilderness. Later, isnt it in John that Jesus compares himself to this snake on a pole? The point being that Jesus didnt die and rise again to make us sin-free, but to free us from sin so that we might live in Christ.
Anyway, the point so that I can wrap this up and head to the Presbytery Assembly meeting where we’re installing our new Presbyter for Common Life. The point: GOD WONT TAKE YOUR PROBLEMS AWAY. I’m sorry, but God wont. Life does bite sometime. YET GOD HAS GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO DEAL WITH YOUR PROBLEMS. We have grace, forgiveness, new life. We have truth. Hope. We have faith. Above all we have love. None of these will take our problems away, but dont they make them a lot easier to deal with?
(Leviticus 14-15)
As a pastor, am I allowed to say that the Bible has some dumb rules in it? Take today’s reading–rules about mildew, menstruation, and other matters of a personal nature. All of which are kinda dumb. Like the mildew thing. You cant keep a shower liner from mildewing. You just let it go, try to spray some cleaner on it every now and then, pretend that you’re actually doing something to combat it–then just go to Old Time Pottery and buy a new liner. But according to the Bible, when that little spot of mildew appears I’d have to call a priest, leave my house for a week, and if things dont improve, it might even be condemned.
Then there’s my wife. Every month at a certain time for about a week I couldnt touch her, couldnt eat with her, couldnt sit where she had been sitting–might even have to send her away for awhile (and look, over the past few months I’ve had to be away from her for several nights in a row–I cant do it). And as far as being intimate with her, even outside of that certain time–forget about it! It’s too much of a risk.
So as we read through Leviticus and all the rules therein, what do we do? Believing that the Bible is infallible and to be followed letter by letter, are we to banish our wives, condemn houses when the Chlorox doesnt make a dent, abstain from intimacy for our lives? Are we to call a priest instead of a housecleaner? Are we to wrap ourselves in saran wrap, wear one of those masks, and live our lives in holy terror of becoming contaminated?
No. We are to read the Bible in context. And we are to realize that though written by God, the means God chose to pen the Story were men who werent scientists, biologists, or even historians. They were just storytellers, writing the greatest story of all-time–at a certain place, at a certain time. They didnt realize that most leprosy was just juvenille and adult acne; they didnt realize that mesturation itself was the cleansing cycle. Yet though they didnt realize this–and that we must realize that God could only work within the confines of the experience of the human author–there is a point to some of these dumb rules: that God’s Presence is so holy we should be aware of our own unholiness when we commune with God. Mildew isnt the end of the world, women dont have to be quarantined, and the common teenager is not a condemned leper. But there are things in our lives that we let contaminate us–in my opinion, though, these are mostly matters of the heart–jealousy, anger, selfishness, hypocrisy, negative self-righteousness.
Yes, there are probably going to be a few more dumb rules that I’ll be reading over the next week until I can plow through Leviticus, but as I read I will keep in mind what sort of things contaminate me such that I am not even worthy to be in God’s Presence. And yet I will always remember–as I do every morning when I awake–that I am encompassed by Grace. It’s not a bubble to protect me from all harm, but it does get the job done. Always has; always will.
(Genesis 28.10-22)
Just like this father, no matter what we do, our heavenly Father is always there to hug us too.
3-Year-Old Tosses Dad’s Foul Ball Back
(Exodus 7-12)
YOU DONT HAVE TO HIT BOTTOM
“You dont have to hit bottom you know,” I once heard a person say about addiction. They werent speaking of me; we were talking about someone who was struggling with an addiction–a young person in a battle they refuse to acknowledge. From what I knew, I commented that this young person would just have to hit bottom. But I was corrected. “You dont HAVE to hit bottom. You can start pulling yourself up any time.”
I stood correctced and knew it was true. Yes, people dont have to hit bottom before the evil wizard’s spell is snapped–but bottom is the best wake-up call.
NINE PLAGUESE
Take Pharoah for instance. How many plagues did it take? His addiction was power, tyranny, stubborness. How many plagues did it take–nine? Blood, frogs, gnats, flies, boils, etc. Nine plagues lasting well into the harvest. Nine plagues, each time Pharoah saying, “Okay, I’ll let you go” but then changing his mind. Nine plagues–each a step to the basement, where Pharoah paused, considered changing his way, walking back up the stairs but then …
Nine plagues. Each a moment to reconsider. To change his heart, as it were. It couldve stopped at one, but nine later it was the same old tune. “Maybe I’ll …, ah heck, maybe tomorrow.” And by the ninth the country was already a disaster.
THE TENTH PLAGUE
It couldve stopped at blood–the first plague where the rivers turned red–but that wasnt bottom. Frogs, neither–gnats, flies … And bottom was further down than the stubborn Pharoah could’ve ever imagined. He lost the one thing most precious, most dear to him–a loss that for most is the wound that never heals. Defeated, asking Moses and Aaron, “Leave. And please, pray for me.”
It’s often what it takes … bottom. And we shouldnt reserve the term simply for “addicts” for we are all addicted to something–it’s how sin works. We are addicted to being the center of attention, addicted to being right, addicted to holding that grudge, addicted to feeling miserable about ourselves, addicted to having people fawn all over us and worship us. We are all in a one-step recovery program; it’s called Sin Anon., and the program is all about grace.
But how far before we stand up and start moving forward in our lives instead of just falling down–looking for the bottom, waiting for the tenth plague before you decide to really change your heart as Pharoah did? How selfish do you have to be? How angry? How self-righteous? How vain? How stubborn?
It can stop at frogs.
