Wise Guys

I’ve been praying through the Psalms for the last several months and had such a good time that I thought I’d go for the Proverbs too.  So that’s what I’m doing in my daily devotions: praying through Proverbs, one chapter a day.  As I was praying through chapter 4 last Friday, I felt compelled to give God thanks for the wise people He has put in my life across the years.  Those people never said much.  I doubt they considered themselves all that wise.  And I’m not sure they had a clue some word they said to me would be just the wisdom I needed at the time.  But that’s the way God has worked wise people into my life.  And what a blessing!

You want to hear something funny?  Not three hours after praying through Proverbs 4 and thanking God for putting wise people in my life, God did it again.  We were having a party at our house on Friday night, and I needed to borrow about ten chairs and a six-foot table from the church to provide adequate sitting for our meal.  I got the chairs loaded, but had a hard time with the table.  I drive an Equinox.  It has a hatch, but I couldn’t get the table in deep enough to close the hatch all the way.  No problem, right?  I’d hauled a few other times with the hatch ajar.  So I pulled out of the church parking lot and turned down Central (the busiest street in our city).  I didn’t make it 200 feet till the hatch flew up and the table flew out.  Thankfully, one of our church members, Gary Brown, was behind me.  He stopped, preventing an accident.  And by the time I got back to the scene, Gary had moved the table off the street.  Dang, that’s a sturdy table—not a scratch on it (this is in case the church property committee reads this).  No, really, not a scratch.  Gary followed me to my car.  I said, “You know, I wish they made the Equinox about four inches longer.”  And Gary said, “Did you try to move your front seats up?”

“Uh … no.”

“Let’s move your front seat forward.”

He did and miracle of miracles, it fit right in there.  I felt like an idiot.  I said, “Gary, God gave me some smarts in some things, but I’m a total bust on things mechanical.”  I needed Gary’s wisdom in that moment, and God provided it.  And he didn’t even treat me like the idiot I was.  I suspect he just had pity.

But God has always done stuff like that for me—put people with wisdom I need in the right place at the right time.  These things aren’t coincidences; these things are providence.  And across the years I’ve held on to those tidbits of wisdom people have provided me along the way.  Some of them have been face to face; some of them have been in books.

“Let’s move your front seat forward.”  Now, I can’t wait to find something to haul just to look smart for a change.

“Things are never as bad as they seem or as good as they seem.”  Has always helped me keep perspective.

“A woman doesn’t want you to fix her problems; she just wants you to listen.”  Still trying to get that one down.

“Pick your battles carefully.”  This helps in parenting, marriage, pastoring, and most everything else.

“Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak up and remove all doubt.”  This helps me measure my words.  I should pay more attention to this bit of wisdom.

“You’re here now.”  Years ago, when I was agonizing over my move to Hot Springs, a friend said those three words (well, four not counting the contraction) and God used that to settle my heart.  In just the past few months, this bit of wisdom was amplified for me when I read Jim Eliot’s words, “Wherever you are, be all there.”  For someone like me whose mind is often in the clouds, I really need to remember this.

“When everything is coming your way, you’re in the wrong lane.”  Sorry about that.  That’s from Larry the Cable Guy and I just think it’s funny … and sometimes even true.

“Believe half the criticism and half the praise and you’ll stay on an even keel.”  This helps me stay humble yet confident.

“The difference between just any word and the right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.”  Mark Twain said that.  He should know.  He was pretty good with words.  I think about that a lot as I preach and teach.  Twain also offered these wise words, “When angry, count to ten.  When very angry, cuss.”  Well, maybe there are wiser ways to respond to one’s anger.

“A pastor needs the mind of a scholar, the heart of a child, and the hide of a rhinoceros.”  J. H. Jowett said that. and man, is it both wise and true.

I could go on.  I could quote any number of Proverbs or even some of the sayings of Jesus.  After all, Proverbs affirms more than once that "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom."  One of the great things about God is that when we reverence Him and listen for His voice, He can drop a little wisdom on us from any number of sources.  Socrates regarded himself as the wisest man in Athens because he alone knew how little he knew.  Socrates was on to something there.  An awareness of what we don’t know keeps us open to learn, open to profit from and appreciate the wisdom God gives us through others.

I’ve shared a few wisdom bites that have been good for me?  What is one of your favorite bits of wisdom you’ve gathered along the way?

Faithful Through All Generations

I’ve been baptizing people for over 32 years.  I’m sure I could find the number if I wanted to dig it out, but I know that number is near 1,000 and probably more.  Some of those baptisms stand out. 

It’s a powerful moment to stand over the deathbed of eleventh-hour converts to Christ, pour water over them, announcing the words, “Buried with Christ in baptism, raised to walk in a brand new life.”  That’s been my privilege a number of times over the decades.  And though these folks don’t have long to live on earth, baptism declares that death loses and life wins.  Baptism declares that just as Jesus was raised from the dead, His followers will also be raised to life eternal.  That’s a powerful promise no matter when you are baptized; it’s more powerful yet when the beady, bloodshot eyes of Death are staring you in the face.

Baptizing hardened sinners is a thrill too.  I’m talking about those folks who arched their backs and dug in their heels when it came to God.  I’m talking about folks who at one point in their lives said, “There is no God!”  And folks who said, “Some people need God, but I don’t.”  And folks who said, “God is not going to tell me what to do.”  When people like this come to Christ after years of being loved and prayed for by the church, well, their baptism deepens the faith of believers and stirs shouts of joy to our holy, loving God who is slow to anger, full of mercy, and gives people time to repent.  It’s pretty special to baptize folks like this.

But, you know, maybe the baptisms that have meant the most to me (and it may sound kind of selfish) have been the baptisms of my children and my oldest two grandchildren.  I’m thinking about that because this past Sunday I had the high privilege of baptizing my eight-year-old granddaughter, Reese.  In spite of having a great pastor Reese loves dearly, she asked me to perform the baptism.  She and her family are part of a church plant called the Journey Campus of Central Baptist Church in Jonesboro, Arkansas.  Their church meets in the Student Union at Arkansas State University.  Needless to say, there is no baptistery, so they bring in a cattle trough, fill it with warm water, have the candidates sit in the water, and then baptize them accordingly.  It’s pretty cool.  And it’s even cooler when my granddaughter Reese is the one in the water.

I suppose the thing that touches me most deeply is seeing God’s word and promises come true before my eyes.  I’ve been praying through the Psalms for several months now, and one phrase that keeps showing up along the way is this one: “Your faithfulness continues through all generations” (Ps. 119:90).  I don’t think I had the same kind of appreciation for that in my younger years than I do as a man who’s got fifty-six years behind him.  Baptizing my children should have brought that home to me, but it really didn’t.  I don’t know why.  Maybe it’s because I was an on-duty parent and busy with those responsibilities on top of everything else.  The busy-ness of life can lead parents to miss the deep sacredness of certain moments in the lives of our children.  Even though we’re present, we don’t always lay hold of the full meaning of it. 

But it’s different when you’re a grandparent.  In some ways it’s even more satisfying to see your adult children raising their children to be followers of Christ.  And what makes that even better is that for our adult children following Jesus and commitment to His church is not a convenience thing or ritual thing; it’s a life thing.  It’s deep with them.  It’s not just something they do; it’s who they are … and now who they are training their children to be.  And they couldn’t’ do that nearly as well if they hadn’t wisely chose life-partners who share the same love and devotion to Christ and His church. 

“Your faithfulness continues through all generations.”  I’m grateful that when I look back, I’ve been on the receiving end of that faithfulness through the faith of parents and grandparents.  And I’m grateful that now I’m seeing that faithfulness worked out into the future through my children and grandchildren.  And here’s the deal: this didn’t come about because my parents or my wife and I were such great Christians.  We’ve got our flaws and inconsistencies like everyone else.  No, it’s not because we are good but because God is great, not because we did everything right but because God does all things well, not because we were special but because God is faithful—faithful to His word, faithful to His promises, faithful to His people.  “Your faithfulness continues through all generations.”

I’m just sorry it took me almost fifty-seven years to appreciate that.

____________

P.S. The Journey Campus asks all who are baptized to share their story via video just prior to their baptism.  Here's a link to Reese's video.

http://vimeo.com/67985790

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

Ouch!  This one really hurts.  A 2012 Gallup poll rated the “honest and ethical standards” of 22 different yet common vocations.  Which vocation do you think came in first?  Nurses—85% of respondents ranked nurses as “high to very high” in matters of honesty and ethics. 

God bless nurses.  They are often up to their elbows in bed pans and buttocks.  They have to give spit baths.  They deal with patients who are not at their best, people who can be pushy, demanding, and ungrateful.  They deal with busy doctors who don’t always respond quickly.  While they usually show up at the bedside bearing helping hands, they also show up bearing needles and IVs and catheters they have to stick in their patients.  God bless nurses.  No way I could do what they do.  But the most honest vocation?  “I’ll be right back to take care of that.”  “The doctor will be by in a few minutes.”  “You can start having ice chips this afternoon.”  “You’re going to like the jello.”  Really?

Also high on the “honesty and ethics” scale are doctors and dentists.  I know many fine doctors and dentists—incredibly bright men and women who truly care about the people they serve, and they seek to do their very best.  But do they always tell the truth?  “I’m sure this medicine will fix you right up.”  “It’s definitely not cancer.”  “I’ll call you with the test results on Tuesday.”  “This won’t hurt a bit.”  “I will see you at 2:00.”  “Just one more little touch with the drill will finish this up.”  Yeah, right.

Another vocation that’s near the top is pharmacists—75% of respondents ranked them “high to very high” in honesty and ethics.   I get this one.  As long as a pharmacist gets the right medicine in the right bottle with the right label to the right person and charges a fair price, how can a pharmacist be anything but honest and ethical?  Plus, if things don’t go right they can always blame the doctor.  No beef here.

Other vocations high on the list are engineers, cops, and college professors.  Engineers better be right or buildings could fall down, bridges could collapse, airplanes fall out of the sky, vehicles catch fire, and property line disputes could reignite Hatfield and McCoy feuds all over the country.  And if you can’t trust cops, we’re all in trouble.  Sure there are crooked cops, but they work very hard to police themselves at that point.  I get engineers and cops, but college professors?  You know, I can’t say that I’ve ever had a college or seminary professor intentionally lie to me or try to convince me to believe something they believed to be untrue.  So, good for college professors!  I’m glad they scored high on the scale.

But let me tell you who didn’t score so well: car dealers and members of Congress scored the lowest.  Probably no surprise there for most of us.  But here’s the one that hurts me: only 52%—barely half of those polled—ranked ministers as being “high to very high” in honesty and ethics.  Ouch!  That’s my vocation.  And we ministers are supposed to traffic in the truth because we represent the One who called himself the Truth.

So why the low number for ministers?  I can only speculate here.  Don’t you imagine some of it comes from the fallout of a number of high profile ministers who have morally or financially crashed and burned since the 1980s—the Jim Bakkers and the Jimmy Swaggerts and, more recently, the Ted Haggards.  These are men who had a huge platform yet apparently preached one thing in public and lived a very different way in private.  The same goes for the recent child abuse scandal involving Roman Catholic priests.  I suspect a lot of honest, upright ministers who genuinely try to practice what they preach are lumped in with ministers like that in the age-old game called “guilt by association.”

Perhaps another reason is the growing cynicism in our culture that finds it hard to believe much anybody about much of anything, a culture that seems to enjoy watching people fail and fall, a culture that assumes most everybody is on the take or in it for themselves—even ministers.

And then there are ministers who lie on their resumes and plagiarize sermons others have preached yet allow their people to believe the sermon is their own.

But there are other reasons too.  Sometimes we ministers don’t tell people the truth.  “Give my ministry a hundred dollars and God will give you a thousand dollars.”  “Name it and claim it.”  “If you just have enough faith, God will heal your cancer.”  “Your poverty is not an economic issue, it’s a faith issue: God wills for you to be rich and healthy.”  When people hear that crock of bull, believe it, and then find it’s just not so, it’s no big jump to assume that ministers don’t always tell the truth.

But we ministers can also shade the truth in other ways.  I don’t know why, but most ministers have a lot of people-pleaser in them.  We typically like people and we want them to like us back.  We want to encourage people and help people.  As the old saying goes, we like to “comfort the afflicted.”  Where we may be too quick to shade the truth is when we refuse to “afflict the comfortable.”  We’re trying to lead and grow a church.  We don’t want to hurt attendance or donations.  It’s too easy for us to fall into what Paul called “ear-tickling”—telling people what they want to hear instead of telling them the truth.  It’s too easy for us to join the league of false prophets in the Old Testament who, even though Babylon was breathing down their neck, told the people that all would be well, that God had no issues over the people’s idolatry and lack of repentance.  Prophets like that were easy to love.  Prophets like Elijah and Jeremiah—prophets who spoke the sometimes uncomfortable truth—were not.  In fact, prophets who spoke the truth took a lot of abuse.  Some even got killed for it.

Maybe that’s why we preachers sometimes shade the truth in our day.  We want to be liked.  We want to be popular.  We want to grow the organization.  And we don’t want to be abused.  So we shy away from issues like greed and idolatry and giving and sexual ethics and hell and sacrifice and commitment.  We are quick to speak of the love of God and neglect to mention His wrath.  Rather than saying, “Ninety-five per cent commitment is five per cent too short” (thanks, Bill Hybels), we say, “Ninety-five, seventy-five, twenty-five, just whatever level of commitment works for you.”  Instead of preaching sermons that exalt Christ and expose our sin and call us to deeper transformation and devotion, we preach a bunch of “practical” how-to sermon series (how to have a happier marriage, how to succeed in life, how to overcome depression, how to raise successful kids, how to get God on your agenda).  People like that stuff—even though they can find it on the self-help shelf at any bookstore in town.  “It helps me live my life better,” they say.  But does it help them live the Christ-life better?  Bottom-line: we tend to make church about “me” instead of about Christ and the Gospel.  And when we do, we shade the truth.  And while people may like us ministers when we do, in their heart of hearts, they don’t believe us.  And they shouldn’t.

I’ve been at this ministry thing for 35 years.  I understand the struggle.  Age and experience have helped me move past the people-pleaser need—though it still raises its head in me from time to time.  But here’s my suggestion to us ministers: let’s tell the truth.  Let’s speak the truth in love even when it hurts us to say it and hurts people to hear it.  Let’s speak it at the right time, in the right way, and with the right spirit.  Let’s also tell the truth by the way we live so that our deeds are so close to our words that any disconnect people notice is the exception rather than the rule.  And let’s trust God in the telling and let the chips fall where they may.

You’ve heard the old taunt, “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”  Many Christian leaders across history have had pants on fire all right, but it was because they told the truth.  And while I wouldn’t wish fire on anyone, I would wish the truth for everyone.   

— For links to the poll check here: http://blog.christianitytoday.com/ctliveblog/archives/2012/12/the-seven-people-americans-trust-more-than-their-pastor.html

A Tribute to Our Unknown Soldiers

On this Memorial Day I want to offer a tribute to the unknown soldier—not the one entombed at Arlington, but to the countless multitudes of our armed forces who are known only to their family and comrades-in-arms.  They’ve never done anything particularly heroic.  Either by virtue of serving in peacetime or serving off the battlefront during war, these unknown soldiers have neither fired a shot in anger nor dodged bullets and bombs targeting them.  They’ve gone about their business quietly—swabbing some deck, working in the motor pool, fixing airplanes and helicopters, typing correspondence, cooking for the men and women at their base, or any number of background grunt jobs that have kept them out of the limelight and far away from the glory.

When they pass through an airport, some bystander may say, “Thank you for your service,” and though they smile in return they feel a little embarrassed about it, thinking: “My service?  What have I done that deserves thanks?”  When they return home they don’t have exciting stories to tell and no one holds a parade in their honor.  They are our unknown soldiers and sailors and airmen and women.

And yet, they are the backbone of our military.  Where would the well-known surgeon be if she didn’t have scrub nurses, lab techs, nurse anesthetists, and recovery room nurses, supporting her work?  Where would a much-loved pastor be if he didn’t have a good staff and so many volunteers who do the work of ministry that makes him look better than he is?  And where would the military heroes be if they didn’t have adequate supplies, enough munitions, accurate intel, medics to patch them up, and transport to and from the place where their heroism shines.  Only a very few can be Navy Seals, Green Berets, Rangers, Marine Recon, and fighter pilots.  Most of our military just do their duty day by day wherever Uncle Sam sends them.  They do it for far less pay than they’re worth and for far less appreciation than they deserve.  Ladies and gentlemen, I salute you!

A Prayer for Life

Vince Lattanzio, writing for nbcphiladelphia.com (May 14, 2013) sums up the trial of Kermit Gosnell.

Former Philadelphia abortion doctor Kermit Gosnell was convicted of first-degree murder in the deaths of three babies authorities said were born alive before having their necks cut with scissors. A jury found Gosnell not guilty of first-degree murder in a fourth baby’s death.

In addition to the murder charges, the 72-year-old was found guilty Monday of involuntary manslaughter in the overdose death of former patient Karnamaya Mongar.

Gosnell was also found guilty of several other crimes including one count of infanticide, two counts of conspiracy, 21 of 24 counts of abortion of an unborn child of 24 weeks or more and 208 of 227 counts of violation of informed consent of an abortion.

In all, Gosnell was found guilty of 237 crimes. He will now face the death penalty in the sentencing phase, which will begin a week from Tuesday.

This is big news for those who believe abortion is an act of the societally-allowed murder of a human being.  It’s hard to understand the logic that says just the few inches of a birth canal separate murder from a legal and approved “medical procedure.”  Maybe this case will challenge that "logic" in the minds of more and more people.  Maybe the good news of declining abortions in our country will only be all the better as people consider this high-profile court case and jury decision.

It just so happened that I had the privilege of offering a prayer at a pro-life gathering last Tuesday evening in Hot Springs.  This was a long-scheduled event, not a reaction to the Gosnell verdict.  In fact, that verdict was not even referenced during the program.  Prayer has and will always be central to reducing abortions in this country.  Perhaps this prayer will help you pray about this matter too.

We praise you, our Father, that you knit us together in our mother’s womb, that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, every one of us an original.  And while we don’t bear your signature the way an artist signs a painting, we bear your image as the last and best of your creation—indeed your fingerprints are all over us.  We thank you that know us when we are but a smile on daddy’s face and a gleam in mama’s eye,  that you know us before we even make the trip from the darkness of the womb into the light of day.  We praise you that you do not create accidents, and that all of us, whether we are born normal or with special needs are still your workmanship and still the object of your love.  We thank you that you have plans and dreams for our lives, that every one of us matters.

And yet, in our culture of death, we have forgotten this, we have ignored this, we have defied you.  We have elevated convenience above life.  We have elevated sex above responsibility.  And in the process we have aborted millions of unborn children.  We have traded diamonds for dust, life for death, babies for a bloody mess.   Forgive us, Lord.  And help us do our part to end the carnage.  Thank you for those who work to this end, whether they offer women alternatives to abortion, argue cases in court, provide a voice for those who have no voice, try to move the political process in more life-valuing directions, or minister to broken women who have had abortions and long for forgiveness and a second chance.  These are huge challenges.  We can’t do these things without your strength.

And now for those who fight the good fight for life, would you please turn their efforts and prayers into lives saved, people persuaded, values changed, consciences spared, and liberty, justice, and life for all.  In Jesus’ name.  Amen

Near the end of the gathering, one of the speakers mentioned that he hoped for the day when, in a way similar to the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C., there might be some kind of museum to honor the millions of aborted babies who died during some dark decades in our history.  His emphasis was on the word museum—meaning that abortion was now a part of our history instead of a current event.  Wouldn’t that be the day?

Don't Forget the Ascension!

According to the Church Calendar, yesterday was Ascension Sunday.  Of course, we Baptists are pretty selective with our attention to the Church Calendar.  In fact, if you ask most Baptists what they have on the Church Calendar they’ll reply, “We’ve got Deacons Meeting this Sunday night and a church picnic the next Sunday.”  See what I mean?  So yesterday was Ascension Sunday so we celebrated Mother’s Day (definitely not on the Church Calendar).  What are you going to do?

And it’s no great surprise that we would ignore Ascension Sunday; we tend to ignore it all year long.  I got a picture of that one time when Doug Scott.  I knew Doug at the University of Arkansas.  He came from Chicago, graduated from a Catholic high school there, and he told me what happened at his school’s annual passion play during Easter of his senior year.  All was going well in the last performance until the crucifixion scene.  Every performance, the Roman guard would take a collapsible spear and thrust it into the side of Jesus on the cross.  No problem, right?  Well, during the last performance, for whatever reason, the spear didn’t collapse.  The guard literally stabbed Jesus, and the boy portraying Jesus looked down at his wound and shouted, “Oh my God!  I’ve been stabbed!”  Definitely not in the script.  So the curtain quickly closes.  The boy is helped off the cross and taken to receive medical attention at a local emergency room.

But the show must go on, right?  So Jesus’ understudy stepped in.  The resurrection scene came off without a hitch.  All that was left now was the ascension scene.  And they did this with a pretty cool effect.  Jesus was wired to a sandbag weighting system.  He would share the Great Commission with his disciples, conclude with the words, “And lo, I am with you always even to the end of the age,” and then he’d push off the floor to engage the weight system and he’d gently rise into the rafters of the stage.  Curtain closes,  Audience applauds.  Play over.  But what the crew failed to account for on that last performance was the weight difference between the main Jesus and the understudy.  The understudy was several pounds heavier.  So when he gave his little speech and pushed off the floor, he went up about two feet and came right back down.  Three times in all he did this (to the growing snickers from the audience).  And that’s when it happened: the panicked back-stage crew quickly hurled a couple of more sandbags on the weight system, and poor Jesus shot up like a rocket, hit the rafters, someone came unhitched in the collision and crumpled back to the stage floor in a heap.  I suspect that’s the only time an emergency room took care of two Jesus’ characters on the same night.

I don’t tell this story to make light of Jesus or these events.  I suspect even God got a chuckle out of an unintentional misadventure at the end of a passion play.  I tell you this because it presents a graphic picture of an important biblical doctrine—the Ascension of Christ.  In this passion play that doctrine ends up in a heap on the floor.  Isn’t that what happens to the doctrine of the Ascension for most of us?  We talk a lot about the cross, and we should.  We give a lot of attention to the resurrection, and so we should.  But there’s scarcely a word about the Ascension.  It lays around on church floors like a heap of laundry.  We bypass it.  We step over around.  We walk around it.  We figure whoever's job it is to deal with it will do so.  We move from resurrection to second coming and pay so little attention to Ascension.  And when we do, we miss something valuable for our faith.

Consider why the Ascension is important, why it’s a doctrine we can’t ignore.  Consider why it’s important that Christ ascended back into heaven.

1.   So Christ could provide yet another confirmation that His resurrection was a bodily thing rather than merely a spiritual thing.  After His resurrection, Jesus spent forty days hanging around earth, making appearances to His disciples.  His disciples (as many as 500 at one time even) witnessed the resurrected Jesus in the flesh.  They recognized Him by His scars.  And they watched His body ascend into heaven (Acts 1:9-11).

2.   So Christ could be exalted.  In that wonderful hymn in Philippians 2, Paul writes of Jesus, “And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the oint of death, even death on a cross.  Therefore also God highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those who are in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Phil. 2:8-11).

3.   So Christ could send the Holy Spirit to us: “But I tell you the truth,” said Jesus to His disciples, “it is for your good that I am going away.  Unless I go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send Him to you” (Jn. 16:7).

4.   So Christ could serve as our Advocate before the Father.  In His post-ascension position, Jesus Christ is described as “sitting” at the right hand of the Father in heaven (with the one exception of the martyr Stephen seeing Jesus “standing” at the right hand of the Father while Stephen was being pummeled by an avalanche of hurled stones).  But don’t think Jesus’ sitting means inactivity: “My little children, I am writing these things to you that you may not sin.  And if anyone sins, we have an Advocate with eh Father, Jesus Christ the righteous” (1 Jn. 2:1).

5.   So Christ could prepare a place for us.  In getting the disciples ready for His Ascension, Jesus said, “Let not your hearts be troubled: you believe in God, believe in me also.  For in my Father’s house are many mansions.  If it were not so, I would have told you.  But I go and prepare a place for you.  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also” (Jn. 14:1-3).

6.   So Christ could return for us.  As the angels told the disciples after Jesus was ascended before their eyes, “This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in just the same way as you have watched him go into heaven” (Acts 1:11).

See what I mean?  This doctrine is no heap of laundry on the floor.  It’s important.  It matters.  It helps complete the story of who Jesus is and what Jesus did and does for all who believe.  So while most of us may not give it a whole Sunday of attention in worship, I hope that by taking a few minutes to read about it today, you will pause and lift a word of thanks and praise to heaven. 

Jesus came.  

Jesus died.  

Jesus rose from the dead.  

Jesus ascended into heaven.  

Jesus is coming again as King of kings and Lord of lords.  

Don’t you dare yank the Ascension out of that story.

National Day of Prayer 2013 — Lord, Have Mercy

Lord, please have mercy on our nation?  We need it.  We’ve lost our way.  Opinion trumps truth.  Entitlement trumps hard work.  Runaway debt trumps fiscal responsibility.  Secularism trumps faith.  And the elimination of most all sexual boundaries seems to trump it all.  Lord, have mercy on our nation and our leaders and our culture.  If you don't, it's hard to see how the American experiment can end well.  Lord, we plead for mercy on our nation.

Lord, have mercy on your church in our nation.  We need it just as bad.

We’ve turned worship into entertainment.

We’ve traded the Gospel for self-help techniques.

We’ve replaced prayer with programs.

We’ve worked to build a crowd instead of a church.

Lord, have mercy.

We’ve reduced God to a therapist.

We’ve reduced Jesus to a buddy.

We’ve reduced the Holy Spirit to a tingle up the spine.

Lord, have mercy.

We’ve allowed ourselves to be co-opted for political gain, chasing the illusion that our true hope is in government rather than in you.

We've shouted our prophetic announcements at the world’s sinners with venom in our voices instead of tears in our eyes.

We’ve made a mess of our own marriages and families, seeking our way instead of your way.

We’ve turned our backs on the poor and the needy so we could build our own little kingdoms to take care of our own little selves.

Lord, have mercy.  We need you.  We are helpless without you.

Would you teach us to love like Jesus, to speak the truth in winsome rather than in wounding ways, to chase holiness before happiness, to remember that you are God and we are not, that you are large and in charge, holy and righteous altogether, and yet you love us just the same?

Lord, these are complicated times for your church.  The government doesn’t prop us up anymore, rarely has our back anymore, seldom shares our values anymore.

Lord, have mercy. 

Remind us that none of this catches you by surprise.  Inspire us that his could be your church’s finest hour.  Fill us with a desperate hunger and thirst for you and your kingdom and your righteousness.  And please make us conduits rather than catch-basins of your grace to one another and to the world.

Lord, we’re you’re people, and you’re our only hope.  We seek your face.  We humble ourselves.  We confess our sins.  We so desire to turn from our wicked ways.  Please, God, in the name of Jesus …

Forgive our sins.

Cleanse our wickedness.

Renew your church.

And heal our land.