Beggars Don't Quit

Desperate people do desperate things. Desperation drives us to do what we would have never considered doing. Extreme hunger drives a once finicky eater to eat garbage. Who knows what we might eat under extreme circumstances.

Satiated people can be choosy. It's easy to sit down to a meal of fine wine, a Caesar salad, prime rib, and cheesecake and disdain the beggar in the alley behind the restaurant pawing through the dumpster for scraps the rats haven't already consumed.

Beggars can't afford to be choosy: beggars can't quit begging.

Jesus taught his followers to pray out of desperation: "Ask and you will receive, search and you will find, knock and the door will be open for you" Luke 11:9. But that doesn't happen too often because we are spiritually obese. We have a ton of "wants" but not too many legitimate needs. We "want" just about everything we see. We need very little. So we pray out of overload, not desperation. We pray for more elaborate and expensive stuff. We don't pray for the ordinary things we can easily provide ourselves. We are self-indulged. Pampered. Spoiled.

Desperate we're not.

We ask but not out of grave desperation. We seek but not out of utter hopelessness. We knock but not out of extreme urgency. Our prayers are casual, flippant, nonchalant, routine verbal exercises in half baked spirituality. If we get what we want that's great! If not, we'll look somewhere else.

Is it any wonder our anemic prayers are little more than empty words rattling around in space signifying nothing?

Basic spirituality begins with desperation: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" Matthew 5:3. Blessed are the bankrupt, the beggarly, the undone, the ruined, the desperate. The desperate receive the kingdom; the pampered miss out.

"Your blessed when you're at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule" Matthew 5:3, The Message.

Love Has Different Eyes

Suppose there were two photographers, and one said, "I've traveled all over the world trying to find the perfect face to photograph. But I've come up short. Just when I think I've found perfection I see a flaw. I can dream up a perfect face, but I can't find one."

The second photographer responded, "I haven't traveled as you have. This little village is my world. I'm only an amateur photographer at best. But I find beauty in every face I see. No matter how flawed the face, I seem to see something beautiful in it."

Which is the better photographer? The one who can't find the ideal subject or the one who sees the ideal in every subject?

The first photographer requires perfection. The second brings something to the subject that allows him to discover beauty. The first looks through demanding eyes. The second looks through compassionate eyes. The first judges; the second discerns.

Love is like that. We want to love perfection. But when we can't find perfection or discover that the person we thought was perfect is flawed, then we try to love them in spite of their imperfections. A love we conclude to be noble and Christian.

Not so.

God doesn't love us in spite of our weaknesses, sins, and imperfections. Papa loves us with all our mess. He loves the person He sees.

We're asked to love the same way: "He who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen" I John 4:10.

"The task is not to find the lovable object, but to find the object before us lovable--whether given or chosen--and to be able to continue finding this one lovable, no matter how that person changes." Kierkegaard

We're not asked to love the imperfection; we're asked to love the imperfect person. When we learn to love the person we see our loves grows. Only when we love the person we see, will we see the person we love.

Saint or Sinner?

I've been thinking about Martin Luther's insight into the human nature of Papa's kids: that we are totally saints and totally sinners at the same time.

Most people lean to one side or the other. We are saints--"practically perfect" all the time. Or we are sinners -- pitifully imperfect all the time. Which is it?

The positive among us err on the side of sainthood. We're not that bad. We have a flaw or two but our hallos shine like gold in bright sunlight. We put our best foot forward. We're optimistic about the world, the church, and ourselves. After all is said and done, we're in good shape.

The negative among us err on the side of depravity. We can't do anything right. We fail more than we succeed. We're lost in a sea of selfishness; we're drowning in waters of flesh-driven lust. Sainthood is a losing battle.

Is there a balance?

The truth is we are sinners; it is our nature to sin; our "flesh" sins. This doesn't excuse our sin, but it does help us to admit who we are and to understand what goes on inside us. Before we slide into a pit of despair, let's look at the balancing truth--we are saints.

God said so. Through the sacrifice of Jesus and the transforming power of the Spirit we've been made saints. Not an honorary sainthood, but an actual life-experience of triumph over sin, a radical change in character, and the privilege to partner with God in His kingdom life and work in this world.

Saints no longer live for themselves but to do the will of Papa-God.

Yet, it would be a mistake to believe that sin throws in the towel and gives up. Lust doesn't vanish. Temptations don't lessen. Obvious sins are often replaced with the more acceptable and less visible sins -- "cheap sex, a stinking accumulation of mental and emotional garbage, religion, paranoid loneliness, cutthroat competition, all-consuming-yet-never-satisfied wants, a brutal temper, an impotence to love or be loved, divided homes and divided lives, small-minded and lopsided pursuits, the vicious habit of depersonalizing everyone into a rival, uncontrolled and uncontrollable addictions, ugly parodies of community" Galatians 5:19-21.

Is there any hope? Sure. "Live freely, animated and motivated by God's Spirit. Then you won't feed on the compulsions of selfishness" Galatians 5:16.

Saint or sinner?

Both.

"Since this is the kind of life we've chosen, the life of the Spirit, let us make sure that we do not just hold on to the idea in our heads or a sentiment in our hearts but work out its implications in every detail in our lives" Galatians 5:25

Should We Be Spared?

Why should God spare the United States? Do we deserve to be spared? Or, do we deserve to free fall into a black hole of socialism ... even fascism?

We are a Christian nation... aren't we?

To believe the United States is a Christian nation is like believing someone who calls himself a millionaire is a millionaire when he only has three dollars to his name.

We talk the talk; we don't walk the walk. We're good at God-talk; we're not so good at God-walk.

Let's not forget our inventory of Christian goods: church buildings, Christian schools, chimes, organs, pews, altars, pulpits, offering plates, clerical robes, baptistry's, fonts, paintings, gold plated crosses. Add to that our inventory of Christian personnel: pastors, teachers, evangelists, missionaries, counselors, bishops, overseers, elders, deacons, leaders, and ministers of music, discipleship, visitation, youth, children, & senior adults. Not to mention the religious rank and file who fill worship centers, cathedrals, storefront churches--a vast array of church-going people.

But when genuine spirituality is so rare, this inventory is not an advantage, it's a detriment, because it gives the impression that we are what we are not, a Christian nation.

We won't be spared as long as we choose to be self-deceived. We won't be spared until we admit who we really are. As a nation, in the strictest sense, in the New Testament sense, we are not Christian. For the most part, we are not even trying to be.

Suppose the billions of dollars spent on space exploration never produced one space mission? Rockets designed, shuttles built, astronauts trained, launch site prepared, but not one lift-off. Not one space mission. A lot of talk, speculation, energy, time, brainpower, money, but no results. How foolish would that be? And how foolish would it be for a nation that promoted that kind of space program to call itself a pioneer in space?

Isn't it the same with Christianity? We've produced a lot of Christian motion, worked up a lot of religious sweat, built a lot of buildings, spent a lot of money, talked a lot of God-talk, but with meager results. Compared to New Testament brand of Christianity, what do we have to show for it?

There are two ways open for us: 1. Become ruthlessly honest about how far we have walked off from God. Own our sin. Repent. Turn to Christ and become his serious followers. Or, 2. Continue to perform skillful maneuvers to cover the reality of our spiritual bankruptcy -- maneuvers that conjure up a forgery of righteousness (rightness) whereby we convince ourselves that we are indeed Christians.

Jesus Christ requires followers and he defines exactly what he means by this. They are to become disciples willing to forsake everything. But to be a serious follower of Jesus Christ is not something most of us really what to do. We'll settle for the counterfeit variety.

Should we be spared? Maybe God is fed up?

"Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven" Matthew 7:21.

Want to Know Something About Yourself?

"If we admit our sins--make a clean breast of them--he won't let us down, he'll be true to himself. He'll forgive our sins and purge us of all wrongdoing." I John 1:9

Confession is a life-long partner. It's as close as our breath. No appointments or special places are needed for confession. I can confess my sin in the middle of real-time life, anywhere, anytime.

Confession means I own my sin. No excuses. I admit my failure. No cover up. I come clean. Halfhearted repentance won't do.

Full confession guarantees full pardon. Forgives is instant and complete. The God of grace runs to cleanse my sin-stained soul. He is more eager to forgive than I am to confess.

It would be a mistake to forget that Papa-God who is present to hear my confession is omniscient. He knows everything about me. He knows everything about everything. Nothing is outside his scope of knowledge and understanding. He knows my sin; he knows all my sins.

Papa-God is the One who "sees in secret." The One who hears me in my silence. I can't deceive him by blame-shifting, lying, or silence. When I confess to Papa-God, therefore, I'm not like a bank teller being audited to determine his or her honesty or dishonesty. When I confess to Him, it's not like one friend confiding in another friend about secret sins that no one else knows about.

When I confess to God, I'm confessing to One who already knows my sin--every offense. So, every confession I make is to an All-Knowing God. Therefore, confession is not a revelation to Him but a revelation to me. God doesn't learn something He didn't know beforehand. Rather, when I confess my sin I find out something about myself that I didn't want to know.

What great grace is this?

Come Here!

"Come here to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28).

"Come here!" --- Incredible!

There is nothing unusual about someone in danger calling out for help, "Come over here! Please help me!" But there is something unusual about a strong person inviting weak people to share his strength.

"Come here to me!" --- Even more incredible!

A physician might, under rare circumstances, invite a sick person to come --- "Make an appointment." With the charitable invitation comes the understanding that the patient comes to be diagnosed, treated, and sent on their way. It's an invitation to help, not to stay.

Jesus invites the sin-sick and soul-weary to stay. "Come here to me" is the invitation. Not come for a diagnosis and prescription, but come to me because I am your help. "I will give you rest" because "I am your rest." That is his invitation.

"Come here to me!" --- Intensely personal!

Jesus invites me to come as if I were the only patient he has; the only sick person he knows; the only burdened human being on the planet. Even the best doctor can't do that. A physician works with a team of medical professionals to give care. No one patient receives their full attention all the time. The average doctor's office visit is 15 minutes or less. Even if the physician wanted to, he or she could not devote all their time and energy to one patient.

But the Great Physician does. He invites me and you to come and remain in his presence. He offers his full attention to each of us. No one is excluded. No one shortchanged. No one overlooked. No one falls through the cracks. No one minimized or dismissed.

How can this be?

It's simple yet profound: the Helper is the help.