Leaning Forward

The book and the cover thing

"Don't judge a book by it's cover" is another axiom that runs shallow today. It's attributed to an article in the Piqua Democrat newspaper, June, 1867. The entire sentence is, "Don't judge a book by its cover, see a man by his cloth, as there is often a good deal of solid worth and superior skill underneath a jacket and yaller pants."

Verily, yes, amen and amen. How ironic that such flimsy reasoning would come from a newspaper with the word "democrat" in the title. Evidently it's just more tripe from the golden enlightened years post-Civil War when Americans became so liberal that we had to invent phrases like this to hide our identity behind an indistinguishable cover. Sad, that we'll still applaud this kind of drivel and pretend that what happens on the outside is not really an indication of what lies within. Seems I remember Jesus saying something more to the point: a tree is known by it's fruit (Matthew 12:33). 

Here is the cutting edge of convenient Christianity, what Chuck Colson so aptly named McChurch, the church of any way you like it. One of most devastating divorces in this "gospel according to me" environment is the separation of belief and lifestyle. Since what I do is no indication of what I believe the demographics of morality down is no great surprise. Pop religion is the digression of belief in truth (sort of), and change (sort of), which are no truth at all or no change at all.

This is the reason world-view issues are so clearly significant these days. As election 2012 looms next week, this book and cover thing will play out at the polls when many professing believer's will stand in line to vote for candidates whose political stances are so distant from even the most chiseled down Biblical world-view. Well you know, "you can't judge a book by it's cover" is just more code language for people to present a whole-some, all-American veneer while valuing and standing for ideals far from the truths of faith.

Well, yes, this gets into the judging thing too. Of course, people loose with Scripture will just as quickly announce prohibitions against judging others. You know, the "judge not..." (Matthew 7:7) convenient reduction (which actually ends, "...lest you be judged"). Well, excuuuussssse me! Kids, we'd better learn wisdom, discernment, and judgment or well let our children play in the streets, or hire unreliable people to repair our cars, or allow child predators play in the school yard. Sometimes we've sacrificed the simple discipline of being observant on the altar of judging others.

Pictured above is a clever device to disguise a smart phone as a pocket Bible. Nice. OK, so I'm being judgmental. The phone may actually be a repository of every Bible app ever produced, the Vatican library in your pocket. Then again, why would you have to put that cover on it. Oh, cover up! Well, shut my mouth wide open. It could just as well be a sexting tool, or a porn camera, or something more devious. The fake cover makes me more suspicious, not less.

So, the point. Jesus said it clearly: "by their fruits you will know them" (Matthew 7:16). Of course, you can give that verse and others like it the black marker editorial slash. So, that's up to you. But, then don't tell me you hold a biblical world view.

You see. Apples and oranges. It just isn't so.

Changed, sort of

Even change has changed. Let me explain.

As a child we sang a song. The lyrics addressed God's work in our lives---"From glory to glory He's changing me, Changing me, changing me, His likeness and image to perfect in me, The love of God shown to the world. For He's changing, changing me, From earthly things into heavenly. His likeness and image to perfect in me, The love of God shown to the world." 

So, yes, in a way it's kids stuff. And, we ask, what has changed about that? The answer is actually a loud and clear "nothing".  The change isn't really about what has happened to change anyway. Underneath it's really about our treatment of it and the way the contemporary church has modified the dynamics of change. You see, unless we discovered hitherto hidden manuscripts, there's just no Scriptural evidence of a Gospel that doesn't change us through and through. What has changed about change is that for some reason, modern sophisticates have taken the change right out of the message entrusted to the church. There's no longer an expectation of change.

Look around. One difference about the world now is the velocity of change. That every thing is calibrated for speed is seldom argued. Culture, technology, teaching, and the norms by which we measure life are constantly in flux. Quantum movement defines every aspect of human life, atoms and cells living and dying, growing and changing with every tick, each breath. It is the motion of all creation, this changing world where the seasons and sun and moon are guaranteed to rock things til God intervenes. It is the way of His creation.

Into this creation He announced redemption in Christ. He could actually give broken humans a new heart by living within them. From the instant of salvation they would be changed. The miracle could be expressed in the words of a child's song and even be grasped by people whose dark soul had been reborn. And, they were changed. In the Bible it was described in dramatic terms---death to life, darkness to light, lost to found, blindness to vision, confused to understanding, unknown to known, and many other stark, shocking comparisons. An inner transformation was happening. A new creature was formed. This new creature would be transformed into the image of Christ day by day, moment by moment, from glory to glory, as exemplified in the great passage 2 Corinthians 3:18.

That there could be genuine faith without change doesn't resonate with Scripture. So, the Christian life is one of consistent change, life moving to the image of Christ. And, what is more, the church is the place when this change should occur. It is a very deliberate and delicate assignment, being entrusted with the unchanging truth while guarding against organizational inertia. The new wine requires fresh new wineskins. But, the long and short of the modern dilemma is the church as an unchanging haven for unchanging people in a world fluctuating at the speed of thought.

Of course, we really can't advertise that, so, we've become the people of change, sort of. That is, change what works for us, change what's comfortable or easy or trendy. But, let's not be maniacs about it, or fans, for goodness sake, or offensive or legalistic or exclusive. 

Changed, sort of, is the change that has happened to change. And, it means there is no change at all.

Tracking

Whenever the storm team guys start tracking a hurricane my mind and heart are blown to the text in Matthew 8:23-27, when Jesus calmed the storm. It was this passage I preached to the kind and caring Northwood Baptist Church family the day after our son's funeral service. "Suddenly, a violent storm arose on the sea..." (8:230). At the time it seemed very appropriate.

Well, there's a glitch in this comparison. Hurricane's don't actually appear suddenly. That's why we have tracking maps, longitudes and latitudes, projected paths, and all the computer models. We can watch them escalate from tropical depression to tropical storm to hurricane, right up the stage progression. Life could be that way too, many of the harshest storms starting small then suddenly being whipped into a meteorological frenzy by changes in temps and pressure and other anomalies. Now with satellites and weather probes and drones we can follow the storm and prepare for it as we watch is grow.

Many of life's storms are like the one encountered on Lake Galilee by Jesus and the disciples. It descended through the valleys from Mt. Hermon and dropped on them without warning from the Golan Heights. It was fierce. The HCSB say "violent". Of course, Jesus was on the boat and "...He's the Master of the sea. Billows His will obey". He rebuked the wind and sea and then, just as suddenly, "...there was great calm" (Matthew 8:26).

I suppose that's the tracking tip for the day. If you look in the backyard this weekend and Jim Cantore is out there, remember this: if Jesus is on the boat with you, He can calm the seas and bring peace to you in the midst of the most terrible storm.

How does this happen? Well, it's hard to explain. Words like peace, hope, and joy are somehow superimposed over the storms visible terror. Out there somewhere is the distant future are answers hidden in the mystery of His ways. We know they're there, even though we can't tell you exactly what they are. We can imagine them and find peace in them, though they are not clear at the moment. Perhaps you could call it faith, or trust, or confidence. He doesn't reveal everything. But, what He has given is sufficient to guide us through the violence. Gradually, we've learned there will be "great calm".

The other day Dr. Danny Akin posted a Adrian Roger's quote. It washed over me like a soothing oil. I'm taking license with it, so it's not exact. Two groups of people cannot have hope. People in hell because they can't get it, and people in heaven because they don't need it. That just may be the calm I'm trying to describe. It is hope.

So, Sandy is going to barrel on up the coast, touch us with some wind and rain, and hopefully aim on out to see without loss of life or property. It is a storm. And, it reminds us life is about these kinds of disturbances, and when Jesus is on the boat with us there will be calm.

Peace, be still!

Endurance or stubborness?

Endurance is a virtue. Stubbornness is not. Often we confuse the two. Being vigilant and alert, standing strong in principle, being reliable under test, are disciplines of grace that position us to be useful to the Master. Being stubborn may simply reveal a a deep level of self-absorption that has stopped listening to the One whose word and command is central to mission and life. 

Scripture teaches the value of endurance. Under test, "...keeping our eyes on Jesus, the source and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that lay before Him endured a cross..." (Hebrews 12:2) is our pursuit. His motivation for the horrors of death weren't selfish or in any way a personal stand against the Roman operatives or the religious people of Israel. He was doing the business of His Father in heaven and was therefore able to announce "It is finished" when the ordeal was over. The hours and minutes of His passion were characterized by humility, submission, and endurance. There was no self involved. In fact, Philippians emphasizes that "He emptied himself" (Phil. 2:7). There was no dig-in-the-heels face off with His accusers or face-to-face challenges. There was endurance for "...the joy that lay before Him..." (Hebrews 12:2). 

Ours is an attention deficit culture, and therefore, one that is short on endurance. Well, some people can run the race, but most cannot, or will not. At the same time, often an unbending stance is just the bulldog in us, a set-of-the-jaw devotion to winning that exceeds principle or ideal. Many of us just like to take our stand and be the immovable object that blocks the path of others. What is more, endurance is not always so passive, that is, standing against the odds. Sometimes, it is aggresive and active, keeping with something until there is release from it.

Like prayer! There used to be an acronymn about prayer: PUSH, that is, pray until something happens. It was a reminder to be steadfast in prayer, to be enduring over those people and events and circumstances that He has placed before us. It is this steadfast spirit that Jesus entrusted to His disciples, that propelled Paul and his mission entourage through their journeys, and helped maintain focus in planting churches. He wasn't stubborn or mean-spirited and ego-centric. He was yielded and therefore steadfast.

When Paul's ministry to Ephesus was closing, he said to them, "Therefore be on the alert, remembering that night and day for three years I did not stop warning each of you with tears" (Acts 20:31). In my mind, this was an example of steadfastness, of true endurance, weeping and praying over the Ephesians day and night for three years. And, here I am feeling good about myself because I prayed for someone for three minutes, or less. Lord, teach me to be steadfast, to endure!

Just the same, this prayer continues. Lord, redeem me from being hard-headed, stiff-necked, or in any other terms, stubborn and immovable. Remaining soft to His touch is the image from the potter's house. So, my inner resolve must be the quality of endurance and steadfastness, and not merely the decision that someone is going to die on this hill. 

David prayed it too. "God, create a clean heart for me and renew a steadfast spirit within me".
Psalm 51:10

Versions

Scenes from two motion pictures come to mind, both involving, oddly enough, Jack Nicholson. In the first, Nicholson plays marine Col. Nathan Jessup. This famous line has Jessup, inflamed by the young Navy lawyer, shouting, "You can't handle the truth". Which, even though penned in the script of a fictional movie, is true enough.

The second is from the Nicholson flic with Diane Keaton, Something's Gotta Give. Here Nicholson plays rich, 60+ year old play-boy Harry Sanborn. He's falling in love with playwright Erica Barry, also past her prime. They meet in Paris for the denouement. He says, "But it was always a version of the truth" (or something like that). The Keaton character says, "there are no versions of the truth."

Long and short, both statements are true. Since they are true, the world has gone insane about truth, and what constitutes truth, and how we respond to it. It's now sheer madness, a chaotic world because truth is up for grabs. For the very reason most people can't handle the truth (STATEMENT ONE), we've invented shades of grey. If there really are no versions of the truth (STATEMENT TWO), then even the most shallow people have a hard time dealing with the shading. Salt of the earth folks, you know, the taxpaying, working public, click their tongues, shake their heads, and remain silent at the ways truth has been scandalized in our nation. Rational people can't contemplate a world without absolutes.

There's film at five of one such appalling episode. There was a crime spree involving a low-level local red neck. He ran from the police and a pursuit ensued. Many lives were endangered. The entire thing was captured on film. When the perp was finally apprehended, our county Sheriff slapped him one time. Now, we've got this thug on camera, running from the authorities, breaking laws every second, and everybody goes berserk because the Sheriff slapped him. He's an alleged criminal, innocent until proved guilty. Even on film, caught red-handed. Now, there's what happened. And, there's what everybody thinks, says, believes, or wishes happened. So, what is the truth? Which version wins.

You see, today, truth is down the toilet. Positioning, appearances, personality, and everyones version of things are what matters, the truth being down the list. It's the stuff of talking heads, syndicated columnists, minority politics, and even the itching ears thing in churches around the nation. What is worse, contemporary culture seems contented with the ambiguity of fifty shades, or at least the promiscuity of it. Most everything is permissable in this system. Who wouldn't love it.

And, that is sad. When a desire for truth slips below the surface most standards fade too. The absence of standards creates confusion and often chaos beacuse societal lines and boundaries are blurred. The outcome is troubling--- a world of disrespect for systems, human life, government, religion, traditon, law, education, the arts, the family, marriage, and you know the drill. 

There's an interesting parallel in the history of Israel. The historian records in the Book of Judges (2:10), "That whole generation was also gathered to their ancestors. After them another generation rose up who did not know the or the works He had done." The Last verse of Judges (21:25) indicates, "In those days there was no king in Israel; everyone did whatever he wanted." They stopped loving truth, and the entire culture collapsed.

Of course, truth for me is theological. But, as much as I'd love for everyone to love God and come to Him in Christ, that isn't even what this is about. It is about living in times when people aren't open to God's truth because they aren't even open to truth at all.

Truth just doesn't resonate with all the verions.

Inspiration and comfort

Yesterday I attended a funeral service at a local Lutheran church. To my surprise, it was a source of deep inspiration and comfort. The symbols of our faith, the rituals of the funeral liturgy, and the recitation of familiar passages touched a place in me that was perhaps a little barren. It brought me to tears.

Early years as a mill village Baptist taught me the value of God's Word, the heart-warming hope of Southern gospel music, and the special character of unpretentious people. Worship was great singing, hard preaching, sincere praying, and a steady chorus of audience participation. The only symbols were engraved on the Lord's Supper table. Ritual was a responsive reading ever so often, and the ordinances on the fifth Sunday each quarter. Well, unless singing the Doxology when the offering was taken is also considered a ritual. Or, dinner on the grounds.

Only later, when Harriet and I met at Hayes Barton Baptist Church in Raleigh, N.C., and then later joined First Baptist Church, Goldsboro, N.C., did I learn the meaning of stained glass windows, pipe organs, crosses, candles, flower arrangements, Advent Wreathes, Maundy Thursday, and other items on the liturgical calendar. Still later, in seminary, I studied worship from an academic perspective. The repetitive nature of some if it eventually created a vacancy in my spirit. Worship by rote just didn't seem to take me where I needed to go. 

Enter Curt Bradford and the worship ministry under his leadership at First Baptist Church, Goose Creek, S.C. Every week they guided me back to a heart of worship even before such contemporary thoughts changed the world of Christian music. Since then, contemporary Christian music has been my personal preference, a fresh expression of the new thing He was doing in my life every day. Today, I'm a 60+ year old pastor with an iPod loaded down with music for my heart. Now, worship is very expressive, the celebration of Christ's resurrection renewed every time we gather. Since Brian's death, the urgency of Revelation Song and 10,000 Reasons and Jesus Draw Me Ever Nearer give me thoughts of heaven, our son worshiping the Lamb on the throne. It's just a personal preference and doesn't imply I've reached a pinnacle of super worship. It's what moves me.

But, yesterday, the stained-glass windows, crosses, strategically placed baptismal font, and some of the liturgy evoked a deep comfort and joy, the touch of lasting symbols that have sustained believers for two millennia. The only creed I usually recite is the biblical "Jesus is Lord". But, reading the Apostles Creed reminded me of the inner strength of my convictions, and the centrality of Christ in my worship. The Old and New Testament lessons clearly announced a respect for the Word of God that is often side-stepped in our corporate experience, a grievous omission for people known to love the Book.

The real learning? As usual, something I already knew, and have preached on more occasions that I can count. Worship is really in the heart of the believer. The rubrics in the Lutheran service touched a place in me that pointed me to Him, a sensory element---windows, candles, organ music, crosses, united voices, and quiet---that is so often down-played in worship these days. It was inspiring and comforting.

Now, don't get me started on a couple of the theological positions---

Encouragement

It's surprising how a cup of coffee and some worn pages can embrace us so. Maybe this explains the java revival in America, the growth and commercial success of coffee shops. A frantic world and discouraged people need to step off the tradmill occasionally and talk, reflect, think, or just observe. A hot cup of Starbucks Anniversary Blend plays into that scenario. Unless you have asbestos lining your lips and mouth, you must take time to savor it.

I cannot argue the scientific merits of coffee therapy. Caffeine addiction is not quite as harmful as other dependencies and we all know the health plusses of a cup at least now and then. For me, a cup of coffee and two additional items are the most encouraging solitary moments in what are often demanding days. My Jet Fuel (which is not a generic name I apply to high octane coffee, but is a real brand of K-Cup sold by the Coffee People), along with a calendar and prayer journal are the stuff of genuine spiritual nourishment. Let me unpack that.

The coffee makes me stop for a few minutes. Yes, to-go cups make it portable and we can always spill it all over the car and ourselves if we want. But, usually, it invites me to step aside from the to-do list and watch the world develop around me. People watching is entertaining and lifts the spirits too. But, the proverbial coffee break is a recognized medium for pausing. The coffee makes me pause.

The calendar invites me to see where I've been and where I'm going. Arrows, stars, circles, and other notations mark the occasions of life. Some are moments, days, occasionally people, and events of special notation, memorable times. More than a few resurrect tragic circumstances. What could be encouraging about that?

The calendar shows me where God has been in my life. Calendar bullets tend to jog the memory. They are a trigger for the forgotten. Looking back over the long haul we can see the times, good and bad, and the ways we celebrated the good and endured the bad. Musing through the days of our lives proves the guarantee of His presence and the certainty of faith. It's an exercise of "ah ha" moments.

Looking through the prayer journal has the same effect. There are pages of prayer requests from more than thirty years in His service. Many of them are annotated as "ANSWERED", meaning an outcome to the plea. A short survey of the prayer journal puts steel in your blood because it assures us of the merits of prayer. Often, we lose heart when we pray long and hard for dear family and friends as they struggle with the issues of life. Even a cursory review of the journal keeps us grounded because it shows us even more where He was in our greatest tests.

So, being a relator, encouragement is most effective when some arms or kind words embrace me. But, often, a cup of coffee, my personal calendar, and the old prayer journal invite me into an even greater embrace, the arms of the one who created me, called me, and guides me in life every single day. His embrace assures me of His presence and power. 

And, that is perhaps the greatest encouragement.  

Markers

Life is often chaotic. The pace is frantic, the directional signs are confusing, and many people have no markers to guide them through the maze and complexity of such times. Faith is directional, that is, providing a fixed point of reference and a compass to guide through the twists and turns. But, few believers possess the navigational savvy or spiritual discernment to interpret the times and plot a sure course through them. So, we're adrift, as som many commentators observe.

Road markers must be more personal. Like traveling in an automobile these days, most of us need more than some MapQuest directions to stay the course. Siri or Mr. T can speak to us personally in the GPS and tell us we missed the turn or that the way is being re-configured. We can all memorize favorite Scriptures, develop some cute acronyms to help point the way, or take notes of our favorite preachers and teachers so we can be more purposeful about the journey. 

Even more, we can pray for direction from above. Richard N. Bolles, author of the best selling What Color is Your Parachute?, also wrote a small book titled How to Find Your Mission in Life. In it he writes, "Every keen observer of human nature will know what I mean when I say that those who have found some sense of Mission have a special joym "which no one can take away". Further, author Laurie Best Jones, in The Path:Creating our Mission Statement for  Work and for Life adds, "Having a personal mission statement can help you navigate the mercurial world of relation- ships, where seemingly so few of us can exert much control." At this personal level, the direction is narrowed to something intensely personal, a focal point to guide us through the confusing road signs along the way.

Being a little OCD, I need the fine-tuned focus of specific guiding statements. Over my desk are three framed Bible verses, clearly labeled---LIFE VERSE, MINISTRY VERSE, and PASSION VERSE. In the swirling waters of church life they are placed in such a prominent location to keep me grounded in His claims over me, what He has called me to be about. They are the final arbiters of most personal decision making and how that is translated as chief elder of this local congregation. They include---

LIFE VERSE: I waited patiently for the Lord, He turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and more; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord.
Psalm 40:1-3 (NIV).

MINISTRY VERSE: Although I am less than the least of all God's people, this grace was given to me: to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ, and to make plain to everyone the administration of this mystery, which for ages past was kept hidden in God, who created all things. Ephesians 3:8-9 (NIV).

PASSION VERSE: Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me O God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your might to all who are to come. Psalm 71:18 (NIV).

They are markers to keep me on point to what He has called me to do. They help me sort through extraneous matter so I can stay on target, best invest personal strengths and gifts, and move the church to fulfill our own mission statement. It's not infallible and I'm not all that focused, being somewhat ADHD too. 

But, having markers, gives guidance, and reduces the number of times I'm asking "which way did they go?", "which way did they go?"

Meaningful words

When our sweet Elizabeth was in kindergarten she bought home a class assignment. This one involved a listing of the seven most important words---thank you, I love you, I'm sorry. It was  lesson learned about the important words that often are left in the dictionary every day. In college Citadel knobs were asked almost every morning, "OK, smack, what's the good word?". Again, it was teaching time about being wise and selective in our choice of words. In a very profound way our language expresses so many things. Words matter!

Since April, 1978, my only ambition has been to be a local church pastor. Of course, the joys of marriage, parenting, and family relationships are on the priority list too, a calling God issued before He set me apart to be a pastor. That calling has a set of words that launches my spirit whenever I hear them---husband, partner, soul mate, daddy, and now Ganga. What words they are. How honored and blessed I am to hear them! When Harriet whispers endearments or Liz speaks the words daddy or dad, I am immediately humbled to bear those titles. They touch a deep place within, and also send me too!

In the same way, when someone references me as "my pastor", it overlays whatever is happening at the time with a fulfilling joy. They are words that transmit so much human emotion---personal levels of trust, mutuality, relationship, safety, comfort---
that over-ride the fears and insecurities of times like these. When someone says "my pastor", it is a bestowal of honor higher than medals, accolades, diplomas, trophies, or other flourishes. Like the sweet nothings from Harriet, Liz and the family, "my pastor" says something special.

It's clear the use of this terminology doesn't announce an arrival, a career destination finally achieved, or a terminus of accomplishment. For me it is the recognition of an on-going relationship that continues to mature and grow. The shepherd, which is the root of the term "pastor" in the New Testament, becomes more adept at caring for the sheep, leading and nourishing them, and training other shepherds to take the flock when his final departure nears. Of all the terms traditonally used of those of us serving in church leadership roles, it is the most endearing. 

Like the Apostle Paul, being called "my pastor" involves a heavy dose of "Not that I have already reached the goal..." (Phil. 3:12). None of us can measure to the model of the Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ, our Lord. That should be the aim, the goal of our personal sanctification, being transformed into His likeness day by day. Regrettably, contemporary models of spiritual leadership may emphasize management, recruiting, leadership, visioneering, communication, information technology, and contemporary influence more than the humble attitudes of simple shepherding. 

Jesus saw a multitude of simple, first century people. His heart was moved because "...they were weary and worn out, like sheep without a shepherd" (Matthew 9:36). He told His disciples to pray for the Lord of the harvest to send workers because it was abundant. The implication was that they needed shepherds to guide, direct, and protect them. It was a profound lesson for the twelve, right before He commissioned them. It still is a shocking wake-up call.

So, when someone uses the words "my pastor" in reference to me, it honors me. To be called "pastor' may be the most meaningul words I ever---except husband, daddy, dad, or Ganga.

Or, maybe, "time to eat".

 

 

Sifting

I remember watching my mother make biscuits. Not from a package, mind you, but from scratch. Gathering the right ingredients was a first step in her meticulous preparation ritual. Insuring they were used in the correct consistency was, though, the most important and time-consuming element. She used a contraption like the one pictured to sift the flour, remove the lumps, and insure a smooth batter. She did it so often she could do it blind-folded. She was a great cook.

Sifting is an exercise that could help us achieve a little perspective about life. Often the blend of life ingredients is weighted with elements that aren't the most essential to the final mix. Too much of this or too much of that makes for a final outcome that may be hard, soft, or even totally distasteful. Sifting through some of them may make for better results. Often, the trouble is not having the wrong ingredients. It's not really grasping which ones of them should be measured out with a certain quantity. We seem have lost the ability to sift things properly.

What really matters about life is sometimes lost in the daily avalanche of muchness, busy-ness, loudness, and speed. Humans tend to give attention to the issues that scream at us! So, inconsequential things often assume a higher posture in our list of priorities than we'd usually assign them. Quieting the noise of nuisance consumes a lot of time and effort, and distracts us from addressing more significant matters. So, on occasion there needs to be some sifting, balancing the ingredients, if you will. 

Jesus once warned Simon Peter that Satan was threatening to sift him. This has been a puzzling translation for me and not until recently did it make sense. It seems that  Simon was at the center of a heated debate among the disciples about who would be greatest in the Kingdom. Certainly Simon is central to what we know about the early church and held a position of authority in the group of Christ's closest followers. In the Lukan text, he appears to be dealing with competing priorities---submission to Christ on the one hand, an inflated ego on the other. Simon Peter was a candidate for imbalance in his commitments. Jesus cautioned that Satan would sift him and reveal in him what really was most important in his schematic.

It is a staggering truth. Humans are prone to lose perspective about the truly valued things under the sun. Persistent, constant sifting is required. Inconsequential things suddenly dominate the screen of our attention, capture our best efforts and energy, monopolize our resources and attention, distract us from monumental things. Sifting helps us refine the lumps, reduce things to a consistency that we can understand and grasp. With the sifter we gain focus about what matters most.

Our son's death last year has changed the way I look at most things. Seeing your dear child in a casket forces a new set of eyes on values on the circumstances that drive us. Many trivial things that used to worry the daylights out of me are no longer main issues. Situations and events and people that previously pulled my chain no longer seem significant. Life just looks different now. There's been some sifting. So, I don't have much room for playing little church games any longer. More important matters are at the fore-front now. The sifting has helped thin out the materials so that most things are in sequence now.

The Lord's answer to Simon is instructive. He said, "But I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And you, when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers" (Luke 22:31-32). You see, the sifting thing is a spiritual problem. When we can't distinguish what is important from what is merely urgent, we have a spiritual issue.

The answer is to pray, turn back, and strengthen others with what He has taught us. It's the sifting thing. Again.