Are You Really a Disciple?

Image via WikipediaIn our chaotic lives, we delight in church. We sing and Jesus meets us. Suddenly the cares of the world drift away.

Then we hear a good message. We cry because it convicts us. We rejoice, because we are justified.

Of course, when someone brings in the special homemade treats, we really love church. We grab a sticky bun or a cookie (we avoid the fruit and healthy food) and head for our cars.

Life is good as a Christian.

However, are we truly disciples? For me, the litmus test is John 13:35. “By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.”

“Okay,” you say. “I love my pastor— I love my spouse. Of course my kids, too.”

We know we are easy to love. But how about them?

Periodically I get called by someone who annoys me. We never have anything to say, but the person wants to talk.

I can look at my caller ID and avoid the call—quickly turn off the answering machine, and for the ten minutes demanded of my time, avoid the displeasure.

How often have we crossed the street to avoid someone? Talked about the aggravating co-worker? Sneered at someone?

Worse yet, do we shun the members of our church because they irritate us?

Church does exist for us. We must be fed. We must identify God’s Spirit and grow as Christians. But we can’t forget the unlovely. We need to show we are Christ’s

The true measure of discipleship is loving people in the manner that Jesus loved.

Christian Tossed Salad

Image by Professor Bop via Flickr  After a late start, my garden’s producing. And what it produces doesn’t totally delight me: radishes, cabbage and yellow squash. But then my husband Neil is stuck with tomatoes, peppers and green beans.

  Two of us share this garden, and the two of us have different tastes. Neil loves the pungent taste of Brassicaceae family (that’s the biological term for the cabbage kind of things). I will eat fresh tomatoes (Solanaceae) until my mouth breaks out in sores from the acid.

  I’m sure those of you who relish your gardens are the same. The kids won’t eat anything except the “trees” (broccoli), and you have to take up too many rows with three types of lettuce in order to make everyone smile at the dinner table.

  Even so, when company comes, how many of us take them out to the garden and show off the wonders? How many hours do we toil to gain our produce? Whether we love every plant we grow, we love our gardens.

  Our church is a fabulous garden as well—unlike our backyard variety—it’s always is season. However, to please all people, we are a varied group.

  Some are outgoing, gregarious-(perhaps we’d call them annoying). Some are artistic (weird). Some aren’t very pretty, some aren’t very fit, some complain, some are just too happy all the time and finally, some are just too active and keen on fitness.

  Just like our veggies, each comes with its unique pests, yet each displays its own flavor. We are unique and that distinctiveness is essential. A tossed salad without tomatoes is boring, and if you don’t like the little red glob plopped on your plate—your dining partner will snatch it up for you.

  In our churches we all have a role to play, and our church could not perform as God intended without each of us.

  “Just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function,  so in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. Rom 12:4-5

Another Side to Disdain

     I know this will come as a shock to those who know me in real time--but sometimes people drive me bonkers. Having read Scripture once or twice, I know this isn't a trait I should brag about on a public blog visible to all the world--but you've never met "Sophia."
     Sophia quotes Scripture all the time--you make a statement, she gives a relevant chapter and verse. You do something not up to her standard--along comes chapter and verse. Someone doesn't see things the way she does--perhaps you like Corvettes when she prefers Mustangs, disdain curdles her voice, it becomes whiny, then supercilious (of course--I, the erstwhile English teacher, would have to define that word for Sophia). No one would dare dispute her assertions because she'd have the chapter and verse to prove how much better Mustangs are--the Bible does talk about horses--never autos.
     How are we to love someone like that?
     This morning I discovered a key. Romans 12:17b says, "Have regard for good things in the sight of all men." My footnote from the Nelson Study Bible says, "A Christian should not concentrate on the evil in others, but instead should focus on what is good. By doing so, we encourage others around us to aspire to the good" (1903).
     If I applied this to Sophia I would discover a woman who has raised wonderful children whom she loves dearly--her love is evident in her words and her actions and her children's sweetness. She's been married only once and still loves and respects her husband. She volunteers in church, is reliable and dedicated to both her job and her ministry. As a faithful, loving woman she demonstrates her Christian character.
     How can I not like her?

The Blood and the Water

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Hypovolemic Shock

Blood and water poured from Jesus’ side. How can this be? Water doesn’t flow separately from blood? Biologically, Jesus probably suffered  from hypovolemic shock.

The thirty-nine lashes He received would have exposed bone, muscles, sinews, bowel. His blood pressure would drop. He’d lose blood

 Prior to death, the decreased blood flow causes fluid to gather around the heart sack. When the soldier pierced Jesus’ right side, he probably pierced His lung and heart., releasing the fluid. Thus blood and water flowed.

Give Jesus the Dregs

     Dregs contain the least value of anything. Originally it described the left over sediment in wine. Undoubtedly, you’ve drunk coffee or cider or pulpy orange juice, What happens when you get to the end?

     Wine from Bible times was not as refined as today's vintages. So think of Jesus as He drank the Passover wine. When He got to the bottom, and what did He do? He drank every last drop. He gulped the sediment of pride and gossip. He swallowed murder and abuse. He digested self-righteousness and arrogance.

All our sins settled in the waste of wine. In His act, He gave us two choices. We could allow Him to drink it. Or we could allow it to be flung out at us in judgment.

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     Within twenty-four hours, the wine he drank became his blood. The soldier pierced his side and from it flowed blood and water (John 19:34).

     The disciples had to have recalled Jesus’ prophecy from the Last Supper.“This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Matt 26:28). If we don’t allow Jesus to drink our sins, we must drink them ourselves.

     In the hand of the Lord is a cup full of foaming wine mixed with spices; he pours it out, and all the wicked of the earth drink it down to its very dregs (Ps 75:8).

The Goodness of Imperfect Fathers

Dad, me, Art, Mom

  My father wasn’t perfect—he drank too much and smoked unfiltered cigarettes and died too soon. However, these aren’t the moments I recall. Much of the goodness in me and my family is the direct result of him.

  He adored my mother. I remember him coming home from work and we kids would crow for his attention. We received our hugs and kisses, but then he got to mom. He’d hold her in the kitchen and they’d hug and smooch—none of us existed in that moment. Their love came first.

  His interests centered on his boat—and the boat meant family time. We spent summers sailing the Long Island Sound, picnicking on sandbars, fishing off the boat and cruising. 

  He’d arrive home from work at the same time daily. The great joy of my life was to “surprise” him by walking the half-mile to the main road to meet him.

  These are  heirlooms I can finger, joys that play out in my life today.

Bob, Dad, Janine, Alan

  He consciously taught me not to smoke by showing me the tar his cigarettes produced. Neil bought a boat and it’s the one motorized entertainment I relish. And today, when Neil’s return from work nears, I grab the dog, and walk down the route he takes. I feel a childhood joy in meeting my love.

  Little details of my life show my father’s impact: my love of reading, Of classical music, the joy of learning.

  He taught me faithfulness to my spouse and integrity.

  My father loved anything to do with the sea—was a commander in the Long Island Coast Guard Auxiliary. His dedication to altruistic causes flows in my veins.

  And how about you, fathers? You see your flaws, and honestly, so do your children. But they see your goodness and both will impact them for the rest of their lives. 

Marianne, Mom, Dad, Art, Bob, J-9, Al

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  Strengthen what’s good and perfect and true—it will push out the negative.

  And children—what do you choose to remember about your father? You can allow bitterness and unforgiveness to highlight the pain or allow Jesus to help you forgive so you know this man as God designed him to be.

  This Father’s Day celebrate the dad he always wanted to be.

From the Heart: Praying for Forgiveness

When cut to the quick by those who should have loved us, the pain hurts more than the wounds of a stranger and Jesus certainly understands this more than we. We know the Scriptural admonition to forgive--and this doesn't mean to condone or accept because wrong is wrong. However, we know we are flawed individuals, and we each have erred. And forgiveness is not an option. When we me our Father on Judgment Day we want to hear, "Well done my good and faithful servant" not "I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoer!"

So how do we forgive, especially when we were right--clearly and without pride? (and remember, this isn't always the case--we are human, after all).

The first step is to pray for the offender which is not easy and often our will rebels against it. However, we cannot hold the sin against the believer--whatever we forgive on earth is forgiven in heaven, and we certainly want forgiveness from God and people for ourselves. To get that, we must give it.

One trick I've found that works when I do not want to pray for something goes like this: "Lord, help me want to pray for forgiveness." Sometimes I go a step further and pray that I want to want to--because I know how to hold onto a grudge. Usually I couple those prayers with an actual petition for the offender, and I'm honest. I tell God I may not mean it now, but I want to mean it. Eventually, my prayers become sincere.

Prayers restorative. Read James 5:16 and see. Although verse 15 talks about praying for the physically ill-- it has an application beyond the physical. "...confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective."

For me, I want to be able to fix things--do something. However, we cannot forgive unless we lean on God our Father. This is the first step.

My next post will explore concrete steps to take.