Pastor’s Point: I wouldn’t be caught dead…

You’ve certainly heard the phrase before. Perhaps you’ve even used it in conversation. I wouldn’t be caught dead… In reality, unless the Lord comes first, everyone of us will be caught dead doing something. I had a college buddy who got a letter from his mom informing him that their church organist had literally died in the middle of the service that Sunday. Needless to say, it was not a joyful noise.

As a retired pastor, my own grandfather, William Frederick Dommer, died instantly of a heart attack administering communion to a woman in a hospital. That’s the thing about death—no matter when it happens, there is always a where.

But this phrase, I wouldn’t be caught dead is usually heard in the context of some despicable job or life situation in which we could never imagine ourselves. Years ago, I served a church in the Chicago area as a minister of music and full time teacher in their Christian school. Once, while taking my eighth grade students on a field trip to a factory in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, I actually made the unfortunate and arrogant statement that “I wouldn’t be caught dead” working on an assembly line doing something menial and boring like that. Almost a year to the day later, I was standing in a paper mill, counting notebooks and packaging them for shipment…eight hours a day, six days a week.

It followed a fateful decision to leave that church position in Chicago and embark on a consulting ministry with a pastor friend of mine. Long story short, the free-lance ministry never gained traction, and I found myself jobless with a wife and three young kids in Appleton, Wisconsin. The factory job was my last resort. In fact, I wasn’t found dead in that paper mill, but for close to nine months I found myself slowly dying inside.

How could I have so misheard God? How could I have been so presumptuous as to leave one job without securing another? How could I take such a risk with my wife and family involved? And what good was I now to God, when all my education and training was for “ministry?” I’m making no music. I’m not teaching young minds the things of God. I’m not leading people in worship. And to add insult to injury, any attempt at rational Christian thought was drowned out by the noise of high-speed machinery and worse, the loud blaring rock music over the factory PA system.

Among the many decadent and depressing lyrics to which I was subjected was a song repeated several times daily by the rock band Pink Floyd. Into my already dwindling self esteem rang out this mantra…

We don't need no education

We don't need no thought control

No dark sarcasm in the classroom

Teachers leave those kids alone

Hey! teachers! leave those kids alone!

All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

Well I was no longer a teacher, but that is exactly how I began to feel. In the kingdom of God, I had become just another brick in the wall. So I cried out to God, admitting my sense of worthlessness, repenting of squandered opportunities and wasting His time in this God-forsaken place.

It was then that God spoke to me in a way I had not heard before and have treasured ever since. It went something like this: Tim, your value to me is not in what you do…in how much ministry you accomplish. Your value to me is simply that you are my son. I pictured, for a moment, those words ringing over Jesus after His baptism…this is My Son, in whom I am well pleased. At the beginning of…not the end of…His public ministry. God’s pleasure in Jesus was rooted in relationship, not behavior. If that were not the case, God could not be pleased with any of us. As the Psalmist says in Psalm 130: If you should [keep track of] iniquity, who could stand? God’s introduction of Jesus to the world was not “TA DA! Meet the Savior of the world!” but rather, “Here’s my Boy, in whom I am well pleased.” The Father delighted in His Son simply because He was His Son.

We have been bought with a price, not with silver or gold, but with Jesus’ very own blood, to secure that relationship. It was, after all, while we were yet sinners that Christ died for us. That’s how much we matter to Him. Do you believe that on a deep level? I know for me personally, it took me ending up in a place “I wouldn’t be caught dead” to really discover my true value to God.

                                                                                                                                                      tad

Memories of Mom 

Her children stand and bless her. Proverbs 31:28 

As I was driving to work today I passed by several flags displayed throughout my neighborhood. What’s the deal?—I thought. July 4th is three weeks away, and we just celebrated Memorial Day. Then it occurred to me—it’s flag day—June 14th, and immediately a smile came to my face. It was also my late mother’s birthday, and the running joke in our house was how the whole country honored her birthday by flying their flags. In the decades since she left this earth, I have come to understand how worthy of honor she really was, whether anyone else in the country knew it or not.

Her name betrayed the period of time and culture she came from…Edna Mae. As names go, I never really cared for it while she was alive, but since her passing, it has taken on a sweetness like few others. Born in 1925, she crammed a lot of life into her 53 years. Married at 18, a mother at 19, a grandmother at 46, her life seems to have been characterized by how much she did simply because she had to do it.

Though she loved her southern roots, she left her family and friends at age 20 and followed my dad to the bustling metropolis of Yale, South Dakota, population 150. Its tallest structure was the water tower. One of my earliest memories of my mom’s life was the piles of laundry that stalked her day after day. Since she lived in the day prior to wrinkle-free anything, every shirt, pair of pants, heck—every handkerchief(!) that my dad needed in his profession had to be washed in a washtub, rung out and hung out to dry, then starched and pressed for every day of the week. Add to that the clothing needs of six kids and her own clothes, and you have just written a full-time job description right there.

And where did this stay-at-home mom perform these duties? In various matchbox-sized parsonages, the largest one totaling 1500 sq. ft. (It was only after most of her children had “left the nest” that she and Dad were rewarded with a much larger, modern home. Go figure that one.) The first of these homes did not have indoor plumbing. For the first 17 years of mom’s married life, air circulation was created by the cross breeze of open windows, or perhaps a ceiling fan; air-conditioning was inconceivable, as were dishwashers, garbage disposals, washers and driers, much less first floor laundries, master bathrooms, carpeting, frost-free refrigerators, and Wal-Marts. (You’re thinking, “What was this, the Cro-Magnon period?”) For the rest of her life you can add to that list things like online banking, cell phones, computers, or a myriad of other conveniences the modern-day mother has available to her.

She didn’t have a lot of formal education, but was she full of wisdom. She was a tomboy as a child, but as a young woman her womb became the safe and tender incubator for five boys and one girl, all before her 28th birthday. In her seventh month of pregnancy with me, she required an emergency appendectomy. From that moment on, I gave up expecting to be her favorite. But she did know me. In a clan of six, I was still on her radar. She started every one of her children on a musical instrument. I was the only one she never allowed to quit. She taught me my first song, “Whispering Hope”, when I was five. She observed that though, like my siblings, I hated to practice, I seemed to gravitate to the piano to express my soul.

She was not a perfect woman, but I never heard profanity fall from her lips even once. (In retrospect, I wonder where all of those frustrating thoughts got processed.) Regardless, any slips of the tongue on my part were rewarded with a mouth washing—with soap. That practice did little to cleanse the heart, but it did raise a value and leave an impression.

One thing I have come to believe is that mothers are handpicked for us. In many ways, my mom could have been more nurturing, more emotionally connected. But she sought to toughen me up and round me out. She helped me to become more socially involved, pressed me into activities, sports, etc. which not only helped me to break free from the typical artist stereotype, but also brought me a lot of fun and a sense of accomplishment.

I remember her helping me transition from Christian elementary school to public junior high. When I came home from a football game with neighborhood kids at age 12, I was stressing over all the profanity I had heard. I went straight to my room and burst into tears. “I’m not going to school with those sinners,” I said. She would have none of it, and basically told me to wake up and smell the decaf. I can’t remember her exact words, but they went something like this: “This is the real world, son, and you better get used to it. No one ever died from hearing curse words, so learn to deal with it.” While she would never win any touchy-feely awards, it was, “like a word fitly spoken, an apple of gold.” (Proverbs 25:11) And you know what? She was right. I’m still alive.

As a child, I never went without a meal, lacked for clothing, attended church with unpolished shoes (or missed church for that matter, unless sick at home with a fever), felt unsafe or uncared for. Was I ever misunderstood?—sure. Did she ever hurt my feelings or wound my spirit?—of course. But she also taught me much about Jesus, encouraged me to sing in the church choir, even made a lame attempt at sex ed. I remember distinctly her showing me pictures in a doctor’s book of where babies come from, after I embarrassed her and her very pregnant sister by asking, “Why are you just fat in the stomach?”

After the discovery of colon cancer at age 52 and months of failed chemo treatments, she began preparing to die. In anticipation of her death, she wrote her own funeral service, beginning with “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” and ending with “How Great Thou Art.” Thirty three years later, I still miss her, admire her, and look forward to our reunion. 

Today I look back with gratitude for God’s personal selection of my mother. What about you? Good or bad, treasure or trial, they are the vessel our Creator God used to start us on the journey of a life with Him. To the degree that they reflected His image and kindness to us, we can count ourselves extremely blessed. And at whatever level they failed to demonstrate that and took from us more than they gave, perhaps God even used that to draw us more desperately to Him. The fact is that when He chose to reveal Himself to us in history, He selected the safety and security of a mother’s womb for His very own Son. Accepting His handpicked choice for our mother is the very first step toward learning to trust His judgment. When it comes to mothers, I have come to the conclusion that Father knows best.

Evidence that Demands a Verdict

O Happy Day is upon us. And here we are, some 2000 years after the first Easter, still preaching the resurrection of Christ as the unique and central core of our Christian faith. His coming back from the dead established once and for all that “He is” who He said He is—both God and Lord. C.S. Lewis said it best in Mere Christianity:

“I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about [Jesus]: “I’m ready to accept [Him] as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept His claim to be God.” That is the one thing we must not say. A man who said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic--on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg--or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or som thing worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.”


Need some evidence that Jesus is the risen Lord?

Resurrection Proof #1: The Empty Tomb of Jesus—The empty tomb may be the strongestproof Jesus Christ rose from the dead. Two major theories have been advanced by unbelievers: someone stole Jesus’ body or the women and disciples went to the wrong tomb. The Jews and Romans had no motive to steal the body. Christ’s apostles were too cowardly and would have had to overcome the Roman guards. The women who found the tomb empty had earlier watched Jesus being laid away; they knew where the correct tomb was. Even if they had gone to the wrong tomb, the Sanhedrin could have produced the body from the right tomb to stop the resurrection stories. Jesus’ burial cloths were left neatly folded inside, hardly the act of hurrying grave robbers. Angels said Jesus had risen from the dead.

Resurrection Proof #2: The Women Eyewitnesses—The women eyewitnesses are further proof that the Gospels are accurate historical records. If the accounts had been made up, no ancient author would have used women for witnesses to Christ’s resurrection. Women were second class citizens in Bible times; their testimony was not even allowed in court. Yet the Bible says the risen Christ first appeared to Mary Magdalene and other holy women. Even the apostles did not believe Mary when she told them the tomb was empty. Jesus, who always had special respect for these women, honored them as the first eyewitnesses to his resurrection. The male Gospel writers had no choice but to report this embarrassing act of God’s favor, because that was how it happened.

Resurrection Proof #3: Jesus’ Apostles’ New-Found Courage—After the crucifixion, Jesus’ apostles hid behind locked doors, terrified they would be executed next. But something changed them from cowards to bold preachers. Anyone who understands human character knows people do not change that much without some major influence. That influence was seeing their Master, bodily risen from the dead. Christ appeared to them in the locked room, on the shore of the Sea ofGalilee, and on the Mount of Olives. After seeing Jesus alive, Peter and the others left the locked room and preached the risen Christ, unafraid of what would happen to them. They quit hiding because they knew the truth. They finally understood that Jesus is God incarnate, who saves people from sin.

Resurrection Proof #4: The Changed Lives of James and Others—Changed lives are yet another proof of the resurrection. James, the brother of Jesus, was openly skeptical that Jesus was the Messiah. Later James became a courageous leader of the Jerusalem church, even being stoned to death for his faith. Why? The Bible says the risen Christ appeared to him. What a shock to see your own brother, alive again, after you knew he was dead. James and the apostles were effective
missionaries because people could tell these men had touched and seen the risen Christ. With such zealous eyewitnesses, the early church exploded in growth, spreading west from Jerusalem to Rome and beyond. For 2,000 years, encounters with the resurrected Jesus have changed lives.

Resurrection Proof #5: The Large Crowd of Eyewitnesses—A large crowd of more than 500 eyewitnesses saw the risen Jesus Christ at the same time. The Apostle Paul records this event in 1 Corinthians 15:6. He states that most of these men and women were still alive when he wrote this letter, about 55 A.D. Undoubtedly they told others about this miracle. Today,
psychologists say it would be impossible for a large crowd of people to have had the same hallucination at once. Smaller groups also saw the risen Christ, such as the apostles, and Cleopas and his companion. They all saw the same thing, and in the case of the apostles, they touched Jesus and watched him eat food. The hallucination theory is further debunked because after the ascension of Jesus into heaven, sightings of him stopped.

Resurrection Proof #6: The Conversion of Paul—The conversion of Paul records the most drastically changed life in the Bible. As Saul of Tarsus, he was an aggressive persecutor of the early church. When the risen Christ appeared to Paul on the Damascus Road, Paul became Christianity’s most determined missionary. He endured five floggings, three beatings, three shipwrecks, a stoning, poverty, and years of ridicule. Finally the Roman emperor Nero had Paul beheaded because the apostle refused to deny his faith in Jesus. What could make a person willingly accept—even welcome—such hardships? Christians believe the conversion of Paul came about because he encountered Jesus Christ who had risen from the dead.

of Christ is an historical fact. Tradition says ten of the original apostles died as martyrs for Christ, as did the Apostle Paul. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of early Christians died in the Roman arena and in prisons for their faith. Down through the centuries, thousands more have died for Jesus because they believed the resurrection is true. Even today, people suffer
persecution because they have faith that Christ rose from the dead. An isolated group may give up their lives for a cult leader who was later revealed to be a fraud, but no one willingly dies (much less violently) for someone they know to be a liar. For 2,000 years Christians have died in many lands, believing Jesus conquered death to give them eternal life.

Is the resurrection critical to our faith? Perhaps the apostle Paul said it best in 1 Corinthians 15: “…if Christ has not been raised, then your faith is useless and you are still guilty of your sins. In that case, all who have died believing in Christ are lost! And if our hope in Christ is only for this life, we are more to be pitied than anyone in the world. But in fact, Christ has been raised from the dead. He is the first of a great harvest of all who have died.” Now that’s something to celebrate! Let’s have a glorious Easter in anticipation of that even greater Resurrection Morn to come! O Happy Day!

Resurrection Proof #7: They Died for Jesus—Countless people have died for Jesus, absolutely certain that the resurrection of Christ is an historical fact. Tradition says ten of the original apostles died as martyrs for Christ, as did the Apostle Paul. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of early Christians died in the Roman arena and in prisons for their faith. Down through the centuries, thousands more have died for Jesus because they believed the resurrection is true. Even today, people suffer persecution because they have faith that Christ rose from the dead. An isolated group may give up their lives for a cult leader who was later revealed to be a fraud, but no one willingly dies (much less violently) for someone they know to be a liar. For 2,000 years Christians have died in many lands, believing Jesus conquered death to give them eternal life.

Is the resurrection critical to our faith? Perhaps the apostle Paul said it best in 1 Corinthians 15: “…if Christ has not been raised, then your faith is useless and you are still guilty of your sins. In that case, all who have died believing in Christ are lost! And if our hope in Christ is only for this life, we are more to be pitied than anyone in the world. But in fact, Christ has been raised from the dead. He is the first of a great harvest of all who have died.” Now that’s something to celebrate! Let’s have a glorious Easter in anticipation of that even greater Resurrection Morn to come! O Happy Day!

-tad

(Portions of this article excerpted from Jack Zavada’s Seven Proofs of the Resurrection)

Grace That Fits 'Just Right'

(Author’s Note: This article is a reprint, but one which might address our recent discussion and upcoming presentation of ‘Unredeemed.’ A key to looking for God’s activity in even the hard places of life is in knowing that his custom-fitted grace is always available to us…just for the asking.)

One of my favorite stories from childhood was about Goldilocks and the three bears. You remember…the one where the little blonde girl happens upon a house in the woods and ends up sitting in someone else’s chair, sampling someone else’s soup, and sleeping in someone else’s bed. If memory serves (and lately, I confess, it seems a tad overworked), the catch phrase in each of those situations was something like “this one is JUST RIGHT.” There was always something very satisfying about that statement, since to me it validated that little people, like big people, are individuals with different needs and different tastes. Never mind that blondie was breaking and entering. I identified with her curiosity, and, as a high J on the Meyers-Briggs personality inventory, I understood her need for closure before moving on to the next task.

As a child I was labeled a worrier, particularly by my mom. She often commented in my grade school years that I would have an ulcer at 15. What did I have to worry about? Well, for one thing, I was going to be getting this ulcer in a few years according to my mother. And then there were the monthly checkups to see if I had bitten my finger nails. If I was guilty (and, obviously, there was no hiding the evidence), I promptly received a spanking. (Not sure which was the cause and which was the effect in that case!)

But part of my anxiety was produced by witnessing sad, tragic or frightful things which happened to others and then projecting myself into their circumstances. Once, I got physically sick following a trip to the junk yard, where my father took me to view the wrecked remains of a car driven by a member of our church. Just seeing the steering wheel imbedded in the driver’s seat traumatized me, so vivid was my imagination.

And then there was the time, while in the back seat of my parents’ car, we happened past the local hospital, and I saw a poor man who had no arms or legs sitting upright in a wheelchair. At first horrified, my shock quickly moved to fear that someday I would be so handicapped…then to worry that I would be utterly helpless and totally dependent on others…and finally to despair that I would not be able to handle it and probably die.

The mental and emotional progression which seems almost humorous to me now was very real then, and I will never forget the comfort my mom brought me at that moment. She quietly reminded me that the man I saw in the wheel chair had just the grace he needed for that situation. The reason I couldn’t imagine handling the challenges he faced was because God wasn’t asking me to. And, I concluded that day, that whatever God allowed into my life would be accompanied by a custom-made grace that fit my particular circumstances “just right.”

One of Webster’s definitions of grace is simply “help given man by God.” Since I have concluded, like Goldilocks, that I am unique and that my life circumstances are similar to and yet unlike anyone else’s at any given moment, a “one size fits all” grace simply will not do. Rather, my loving Father tailor-makes the particular assistance, the comfort, the faith, and the ability I need to endure with joy whatever comes my way.

Have you ever found yourself looking at someone in grief or misery and saying to yourself, “I could never handle that,” “I would never survive that much pain,” or worse yet, “I would lose my faith.” In the Old Testament, Job’s wife tried to go there, and her conclusion was “curse God and die.” In the HISTORY’S WORST ADVICE category, we have a winner! I believe that reaction might come from an assumption that God is not very discriminating or particular in the type of care we need for life’s challenges. We might see this type of grace as just some nebulous, theological truism or the fatalistic reminder that this world is just ‘a vale of tears.’ But would any thinking, feeling person ever offer the same counsel and comfort to a person who had just become paralyzed as one would to a child who had just lost a fish? Both involve sensitivity, wisdom, and a grace that “just fits.”

So it is with our heavenly Father, who offers us precisely what we need when we need it to handle everything that life throws at us. Unlike His grace (undeserved love) that is universal and non-discriminating, offering forgiveness and new life to all who call upon Him, the grace that supports and tends to us in our daily struggles is always a custom-fit.

Until God redeems the life experiences which we wish had never happened, we have two choices: push Him away, clench our fists, and feel sorry for ourselves OR draw near to Him, open our hands, and receive His amazing, personalized grace for every situation. Sing with conviction this weekend! Many need to hear your message. For them, it will feel ‘just right.’

-tad

Let My People Laugh: The Sequel

Maybe it’s just me, but lately it seems we’re hearing a lot of prayer requests for health issues, everything from navigating safely through pregnancy all the way to the replacement of body parts. One conclusion that is irrefutable is that these bodies of ours do not carry an unlimited warranty. They do, eventually, break down and wear out. There is an expiration date on every one of them, so the delaying of that inevitability seems to occupy much of our time, even those of us who know that neither this earth nor our human frame is, ultimately, our eternal home.

So in the meantime, we exercise and we try to eat right, we take supplements, we try to get sufficient rest, and we try to follow our doctor’s advice, and we surf the internet to explain what ails us, even if, as Mark Twain once wrote: “Be careful about reading health books. You may die of a misprint.” Looked at another way, though, maybe getting older is not all that bad. After all, consider these perks:

Reporters interviewing a 104-year-old woman: “And what do you think is the best thing about being 104?” the reporter asked. She simply replied, “No peer pressure.”

Once the memory goes, you get to hide your own Easter eggs.

One senior mused: I sure have gotten old! I’ve had two bypass surgeries, a hip replacement, new knees. Fought prostate cancer and diabetes. I’m half blind, can’t hear anything quieter than a jet engine, take 40 different medications that make me dizzy, winded, and subject to blackouts. Have bouts with dementia. Have poor circulation; hardly feel my hands and feet anymore. Can’t remember if I’m 85 or 92 Have lost all my friends. But, thank goodness, I still have my driver’s license.

Another recalled: My memory’s not as sharp as it used to be. Also, my memory’s not as sharp as it used to be.

Maybe you’re not sure if any of this applies to you. But then that nagging little voice inside of you says, ‘you’re not getting any younger.’ Want a little test to help you know if you’re older than you think? Ponder these little irritations:

Everything hurts…and what doesn’t hurt doesn’t work.

You sit down in a rocking chair and can’t get it started.

Your back goes out more often than you do.

You’re really getting into swing dancing. Not on purpose.
Some parts of your body are just prone to swinging.

You finally get it all together, and then you can’t remember where you put it.

You notice you are starting to make the same noises as your coffeemaker.

Resisting temptation is not as hard as recognizing it.

Anything under a quarter isn’t worth bending over to pick up.

And the true litmus test for when you are really getting up in years: You no longer buy green bananas. Ultimately, we can relax in the truth that, as the psalmist says: [God] knows how weak we are; he remembers we are only dust. Our days on earth are like grass; like wildflowers, we bloom and die. (Psalm 103:14,15) We are all living in temporary housing…None of us, not even the healthiest of us, is guaranteed our next breath—that we will wake up tomorrow. James 4 says: “How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone. What you ought to say is, ‘If the Lord wants us to, we will live and do this or that.’ Otherwise you are boasting about your own plans, and all such boasting is evil.”

So in the meantime, beloved, let’s enjoy the ride, encourage each other, and keep a sense of humor about it all. Remember: You don’t stop laughing because you grow old, You grow old because you stop laughing. Have a great week and don’t forget to come out to support our drama team next Friday. You’ll be glad you did.

-tad

Let My People Laugh

As we prepare to enjoy an evening of laughter and fun put on by our drama department in two weeks, I have been musing (reflecting) on that whole concept in the life of a Christian. One of the first psalms I learned as a child was actually in the form of a song, a hymn actually. It was Psalm 100, and it began, “All people that on earth do dwell.” Most of it made sense to my 3 ½ lbs of brain until I got to the line, “Him serve with mirth, His praise forthtell.” Not exactly elementary age street slang! I had not a clue what mirth was...thought it might be a derivative of ‘mercy’, but requiring a lisp. When I found out it actually means great joy, it made more sense, even if the preponderance of German Lutherans around me seemed a bit lacking in it! From my trusty Thesaurus, I learned that synonyms for ‘mirth’ are even more intriguing: everything from cheerfulness, hilarity, hysteria, kicks, revelry—all the way to my personal favorite—whoopee!

Think of it—Him serve with whoopee! When was the last time you were asked to serve in some capacity and your response was whoopee!??? But that is exactly the goal of the Christian life…not only to follow Christ and serve one another, but to get to the point where it is our joy!!! It becomes a “get to”, rather than a “have to.”

Here are some scattered thoughts about joy and laughter from the Bible…

1. Timing is everything:

To everything there is a season: A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance. Ecclesiastes 3:4

2. God Himself enjoys a good laugh:

He who sits in the heavens laughs; the Lord holds them in derision. Psalm 2:4 (Remember that famous one-liner: “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.”)

The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing. Zephaniah 3:17

3. God is the joy-giver:

He will yet fill your mouth with laughter, and your lips with shouting. Job 8:21

Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; then they said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.” Psalm 126:2

You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there
is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore. Psalm 16:11

You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound. Psalm 4:7
4. God prescribes laughter for our well-being:

A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones. Proverbs 17:22

A glad heart makes a cheerful face, but by sorrow of heart the spirit is crushed. Proverbs 15:13

5. Sarcasm has its place, but not all laughter is helpful to the human spirit:

And at noon Elijah mocked them, saying, “Cry aloud, for he is a god. Either he is musing, or he is relieving himself, or he is on a journey, or perhaps he is asleep and must be awakened.” 1 Kings 18:27

Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving. Ephesians 5:4

6. True joy is a choice:

Yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. Habakkuk 3:18

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Philippians 4:4

As a worship community, we have gone on record to say we want to be a place of safety, pursuing excellence, growing deeper in the things of God. Let’s resolve to also be known as a people of infectious joy, who love what they do and who love to laugh. Let’s serve our Savior with a little more Whoopee!!!

-tad

Worship Can Be Hazardous to Your Health

One of my favorite teachers on the subject of worship is Pastor Jack Hayford from Church on the Way in Van Nuys, CA. This week I am excerpting a portion from “A Man’s Worship and Witness” where Jack gives his own unique spin on one of the very first worshiping communities—Cain & Abel (see Genesis 4).

Soiled hands placed vegetables in a tidy arrangement on the rock altar. Cain felt proud of his display. His brother, Abel, had begun assembling his own offering hours ago and still wasn’t done. Cain was. All Cain did was walk into his garden and pull up the fine specimens out of the ground. They had grown all by themselves. And the garden was close by. It all seemed so easy. A smug smile curled Cain’s lips. His brother- still searching out in the fields for an offering- was laboring for nothing, Cain mused. He looked again upon the grand, colorful altar. There it was. Vegetables. On the altar. Easy.

This being one of his first offerings, Cain wondered what exactly was to happen next. Pondering this, he sat on a nearby stone and waited. He looked over at this brother’s altar just as Abel came through the bushes carrying several ewe lambs. It wasn’t long before the lambs were mounted on Abel’s altar and slain. Cain noticed that Abel’s altar was smaller than his. Good. Having sacrificed the animals on the altar, Abel walked several paces back and knelt in prayer. Cain felt uneasy. He hadn’t done that. But he comforted himself by observing that Abel’s altar was blood-stained and dirty, while his was neat, tidy and colorful: orange and red and yellow and green and – just then: Whoosh! Brilliant flames from out of nowhere- from another realm- licked up all of Abel’s sacrifice! All of it! Cain jumped to his feet. A few ashes drifted in the breeze. The colorful harvest on Cain’s altar remained defiantly the same- unchanged. Nothing happened to his. Cain stormed off, angered and pouting. And it was later, as his tormented mind seethed with hatred and jealousy, that the Lord met him near a tall palm tree: “Why are you angry? And why has your countenance fallen? If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if do not do well, sin lies at the door. And its desire is for you, but you should rule over it” (Genesis 4:6,7). Shortly, Cain’s competitive jealousy grew to such intolerable levels that he rose in fury to kill his brother, Abel. And thus, the record teaches us: the first murder was born in the heart of a man who resisted God’s ways of worship. The first victim of violence was a man who worshiped God physically, openly, and freely.

Personally I am challenged by this story…not only from the original text, but also by the way Hayford has drawn applications for us as a worshiping community. From this, I have come up with my own Top Ten List of takeaways:

1. As we bring an offering to God (ourselves), He wants all of us, not just what is comfortable or convenient.

2. Nothing less than our very best is really worthy of God.

3. He doesn’t require what He does not provide.

4. Man looks at the outside—God looks at the heart.

5. No true act of worship can be separated from the need for the shedding of blood. Either we return to the old animal sacrificial system- or we adopt God’s new covenant offer of the life of His son. (Without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness. - Hebrews 9:22)

6. Uncontested spiritual warfare can be deadly. For the time being, Cain, an enemy of true worship, succeeded in quelling the sacrifice of praise offered by his brother. But unlike Abel, we are not left alone to be victimized by the Enemy in his effort to silence our praise. This is why we often pray that God would “bind the enemy” (Mark 3:27) prior to our worship experiences. We believe the One who is in us is greater than the one who is “in the world.”)

7. If we allow our worship to go public, it will impact others. Some might be blessed and encouraged. Others will begin to pull away from us or, worse, try to discredit us.

8. As Abel learned, worshiping freely with abandon in public places can be hazardous to your health! At the very least it can result in you being judged, ridiculed, less popular. Kind of like Jesus.

9. In the end, warring over whose worship is more Christian or appropriate or godly still misses the mark. As wrong as Cain was, he still was not beyond redemption. The writer to the Hebrews reminds us, “You have come to Jesus, the one who mediates the new covenant between God and people, and to the sprinkled blood, which speaks of forgiveness instead of crying out for vengeance like the blood of Abel.”

10. Sincere and God-focused worship touches His very heart! (“The Lord looked with favor on Abel and his offering...” 4:4)

Bottom line? May our ultimate goal be to bring pleasure to the One who alone is worthy, no matter what the cost. Can I get an Amen?!?

-tad