In our market-driven culture, people learn “comparison-shopping.” That’s where you compare prices and features to get the most for your dollar. It’s not a bad idea when it comes to buying things and investing your hard-earned money.
The problem of comparison-shopping arises when we apply it beyond its intended scope. Take matrimony, for example. If, after some mileage accumulates in their marriage, Mr. Jones begins to compare his fifty-something wife with the twenty-something babe at work, he might end up making a grave error in judgment. The problem could have been avoided if Mr. J. had just refused to “compare” and “shop.”
Being in a church family is somewhat like that. Granted, church membership is not marriage, and none of us has been required to promise, ”Until death do us part,” as a condition to being part of the Body of Christ. Yet, there is a basic similarity.
Both relationships – marriage and church – are based upon committed love.
Committed love is a comprehensive obligation, which is why some find it too far-reaching, too difficult. Someone who occasionally attended my first church explained such a sentiment this way, with a rare honesty: “The reason I don’t come to church much is that it’s too much bother. I just don’t want to get that close to people, because when you get close to them, you have to deal with their messes.”
Yes, committed love has a cost. It’s not easy. It can be messy. In fact, it’s sometimes downright hard. But that’s what makes it so valuable and so vital. If love were easy, it wouldn’t be worth much.
Our model, of course, is Jesus, and from Him we learn that the essential character of committed love is that it is unconditional. There is no “if” in committed love. This means that we actively stand by each other in support and prayer, that we challenge and encourage one another, even when we’re not particularly crazy about each other. It means that nothing anybody does or says could ever keep us from our relationships in the Body of Christ.
This is what the Holy Spirit told the church at Colossae 1,960 years ago, and it’s what the Holy Spirit is telling the church in Sterling today. Here’s how Paul put it in Colossians 3:12-14: “Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other. Yes, forgive as the Lord forgave you. And above all, put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.”
There’s no getting around the fact that church can be messy. That’s true, because committed love is messy. The only way to avoid the mess is to neglect the love. However, that’s just not a valid option, because Jesus commanded His people to love each other. Listen to His words: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:34-35).
Listen, beloved, to that commandment. Listen, and then obey.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Why Christians Must Love the Church
I love the church. I love being the pastor of a church. I love visiting other churches when I have the rare opportunity to do so.
However, let’s admit something: the church is a very imperfect group.
That’s because the church is composed of people. Not just any kind of people, but sinners. Indeed, the primary prerequisite for being part of the church is to acknowledge you are a sinner who needs the grace of God. People who think they’re good enough to reach heaven on their own merits generally don’t qualify for church membership. Only those who know they have no hope of salvation apart from the atoning sacrifice of Christ are suitable for the church.
That is one of the reasons I love the church. On Sundays, when I look out at the congregation God has given me, I see people just like me: sinners learning to live the truth of the Gospel in the context of their sin-tainted lives and this broken world.
To be sure, Christians have been given by God’s grace the miraculous privilege of right standing before God, this is not a standing that is achieved by any works of merit we have done. It is not by their good deeds or religious acts that Christians attain relationship with God.
It is by grace. God’s grace. Only by God’s grace.
Any church worthy of the name is a living declaration to the world that God is merciful, that He pours out His grace to forgive sinners with scandalous abandon. And that’s why I love the church. It is a local gathering of people committed to Christ and to each other, with a mutual desire to become more like Christ as we live out the position we have been given in Christ.
And, of course, that is the heart’s desire of every Christian: to become more and more like our Savior.
And that brings me to the most compelling reason why Christians must love the church.
Let me explain. If you want to become like Jesus, that means you will aspire to think His thoughts, pursue His commands, and love what He loves.
And Jesus loves the church; so much so, in fact that He calls the church His bride. Think of that term for a moment. How does the groom feel about his bride? Does his heart not burst with love for her? Of course it does. Does the fact that she is imperfect dim his passion or reduce his ardor for her? Not at all.
That same kind of passionately committed love is what Jesus has eternally for His bride. God’s Word says that one reason He gave us marriage is so that we could see in it a picture of the love of Jesus for His church (Ephesians 5:25, 32).
Oh, how Jesus loves His church! He is committed to His church!
If you love Jesus, you will learn to love His bride.
If you want to be like Jesus, you will love the church like He does.
Do you?
However, let’s admit something: the church is a very imperfect group.
That’s because the church is composed of people. Not just any kind of people, but sinners. Indeed, the primary prerequisite for being part of the church is to acknowledge you are a sinner who needs the grace of God. People who think they’re good enough to reach heaven on their own merits generally don’t qualify for church membership. Only those who know they have no hope of salvation apart from the atoning sacrifice of Christ are suitable for the church.
That is one of the reasons I love the church. On Sundays, when I look out at the congregation God has given me, I see people just like me: sinners learning to live the truth of the Gospel in the context of their sin-tainted lives and this broken world.
To be sure, Christians have been given by God’s grace the miraculous privilege of right standing before God, this is not a standing that is achieved by any works of merit we have done. It is not by their good deeds or religious acts that Christians attain relationship with God.
It is by grace. God’s grace. Only by God’s grace.
Any church worthy of the name is a living declaration to the world that God is merciful, that He pours out His grace to forgive sinners with scandalous abandon. And that’s why I love the church. It is a local gathering of people committed to Christ and to each other, with a mutual desire to become more like Christ as we live out the position we have been given in Christ.
And, of course, that is the heart’s desire of every Christian: to become more and more like our Savior.
And that brings me to the most compelling reason why Christians must love the church.
Let me explain. If you want to become like Jesus, that means you will aspire to think His thoughts, pursue His commands, and love what He loves.
And Jesus loves the church; so much so, in fact that He calls the church His bride. Think of that term for a moment. How does the groom feel about his bride? Does his heart not burst with love for her? Of course it does. Does the fact that she is imperfect dim his passion or reduce his ardor for her? Not at all.
That same kind of passionately committed love is what Jesus has eternally for His bride. God’s Word says that one reason He gave us marriage is so that we could see in it a picture of the love of Jesus for His church (Ephesians 5:25, 32).
Oh, how Jesus loves His church! He is committed to His church!
If you love Jesus, you will learn to love His bride.
If you want to be like Jesus, you will love the church like He does.
Do you?
Friday, May 07, 2010
Have You Said "Yes!" to Jesus?
In the last post I shared with you a sobering account of a man who approached death trusting his own goodness. His so-called “faith” was summed up in his words, “I’ve lived a pretty good life, and when it comes time to die, I’ll take my chances.”
As I pointed out last week, eternity is a very long time to take your chances.
Blessedly, some people learn this before it’s too late. John Watkins was such a man.
John’s wife Bernice had endured a sad life. Her first husband was killed in an accident early in their marriage. After living as a widow into advanced middle age, she married a widower from church who had lost his wife to cancer. Sadly, just a few years later, he suffered a life-ending heart attack.
Afraid of living out her days alone, Bernice accepted John Watkins’ marriage proposal. Those who knew him advised Bernice against the marriage: John was harsh, profane, and given to fits of rage. Despite the counsel of her church and friends, Bernice and John were married.
Not long thereafter, I became her pastor.
Bernice often asked me to pray for her unbelieving husband. Many times I offered to go visit him, but she always replied almost in fear, “Oh no, Pastor, he’d cuss at you for sure.”
Then an X-ray showed shadows in John’s lungs. Further tests revealed cancer throughout his body. John pursued treatment, but nothing worked. Bernice moved a hospital bed into their home, and John began the agonizing process of dying of bone cancer.
I had been cussed at before, so I decided to take the chance and visit John. He did cuss, but I kept going back. However, whenever I tried to talk about the gospel, he’d just roll over and turn his back to me.
Finally, I took my wife with me: surely he wouldn’t cuss at her. Besides, John had to hear the gospel before it was too late. So we went to his bedside, and said, “John, we all know you’re dying. Pretty soon, you’re going to be in either heaven or hell forever. Would you like to learn how you can go to heaven?”
To our surprise, he said he would like that.
Carefully we explained to him about God’s holiness, his sinfulness, and Jesus’ sufficiency to solve his sin problem. We reviewed biblical facts about Jesus, wonderful truths he had (astonishingly!) never heard. Then we asked him if he would admit to being a sinner in need of a savior. “That’s for darn sure,” was his honest reply. Finally, we asked him if he was convinced that Jesus was his only hope for salvation, and if would place his full faith and confidence in Him, trusting Jesus to be his Savior.
He said, “Yes.”
A few weeks later, I did John’s funeral. I told those in attendance how John had almost waited too long. He had heard the gospel just in time. And Jesus had saved him through that gospel, which is “God’s power to save everyone who believes it” (Romans 1:16).
You’ve heard the gospel, haven’t you? Do you believe it? Are you trusting Jesus to be you Savior? Have you said "Yes!" to Jesus?
As I pointed out last week, eternity is a very long time to take your chances.
Blessedly, some people learn this before it’s too late. John Watkins was such a man.
John’s wife Bernice had endured a sad life. Her first husband was killed in an accident early in their marriage. After living as a widow into advanced middle age, she married a widower from church who had lost his wife to cancer. Sadly, just a few years later, he suffered a life-ending heart attack.
Afraid of living out her days alone, Bernice accepted John Watkins’ marriage proposal. Those who knew him advised Bernice against the marriage: John was harsh, profane, and given to fits of rage. Despite the counsel of her church and friends, Bernice and John were married.
Not long thereafter, I became her pastor.
Bernice often asked me to pray for her unbelieving husband. Many times I offered to go visit him, but she always replied almost in fear, “Oh no, Pastor, he’d cuss at you for sure.”
Then an X-ray showed shadows in John’s lungs. Further tests revealed cancer throughout his body. John pursued treatment, but nothing worked. Bernice moved a hospital bed into their home, and John began the agonizing process of dying of bone cancer.
I had been cussed at before, so I decided to take the chance and visit John. He did cuss, but I kept going back. However, whenever I tried to talk about the gospel, he’d just roll over and turn his back to me.
Finally, I took my wife with me: surely he wouldn’t cuss at her. Besides, John had to hear the gospel before it was too late. So we went to his bedside, and said, “John, we all know you’re dying. Pretty soon, you’re going to be in either heaven or hell forever. Would you like to learn how you can go to heaven?”
To our surprise, he said he would like that.
Carefully we explained to him about God’s holiness, his sinfulness, and Jesus’ sufficiency to solve his sin problem. We reviewed biblical facts about Jesus, wonderful truths he had (astonishingly!) never heard. Then we asked him if he would admit to being a sinner in need of a savior. “That’s for darn sure,” was his honest reply. Finally, we asked him if he was convinced that Jesus was his only hope for salvation, and if would place his full faith and confidence in Him, trusting Jesus to be his Savior.
He said, “Yes.”
A few weeks later, I did John’s funeral. I told those in attendance how John had almost waited too long. He had heard the gospel just in time. And Jesus had saved him through that gospel, which is “God’s power to save everyone who believes it” (Romans 1:16).
You’ve heard the gospel, haven’t you? Do you believe it? Are you trusting Jesus to be you Savior? Have you said "Yes!" to Jesus?
Saturday, May 01, 2010
ONE SURE FACT ABOUT LIFE
J. I. Packer wrote, “Death, even when unmentionable, remains inescapable. The one sure fact about life is that one day, with or without warning, quietly or painfully, it is going to stop. How will I, then, cope with death when my turn comes?”
The Psalmist prayed to the Lord, “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12). Uncomfortable as these considerations may be, it is wise for the living to contemplate their death. It is doubly wise when death makes a close approach.
Some years ago I was asked to call on a man who had recently been told by his doctor that his days were numbered. So I called him, made an appointment, and went to visit.
During our conversation, I asked him, “Now that you know your death is near, are you ready to die?”
“Yes,” he said, “I suppose I am.”
“Where do you expect you’ll be spending eternity?” I asked.
“In heaven, I hope,” was his reply.
“You hope?” I questioned gently. “Where does this hope come from?”
“I’ve been a pretty good man all my life. Never cheated, always kept my word, never stepped out on my wife.” He continued to recite a litany of good deeds in which he apparently hoped.
Concerned that his confidence was misplaced, I asked if he would like to know how to be sure, not just hope. He said he would.
For the next several minutes, I carefully shared with him the basics of the gospel. After explaining that Christ had done everything necessary for the salvation of anyone who would trust Him, I asked the man if he would like to put his faith in the Lord’s finished work.
“No thanks,” he replied. “All my life I’ve trusted in myself, and I’ll die trusting in myself.”
I was astonished. I’d never heard anyone listen so closely to the gospel only to have him refuse it so plainly. I reviewed the work of Christ, explained what it means to trust Him, and asked the man once more if he would like to place his life in Christ’s hands. His response still sends chills up my spine: “I’ve lived a pretty good life, and when it comes time for me to die, I’ll take my chances. Now, preacher,” he continued, “I think this conversation is over. You can leave.”
I hardly remember what happened after I left the man’s home. I was shaken by those four words he said to me: “I’ll take my chances.”
Appalling words, horrifying words: “I’ll take my chances.”
The sum total of human folly: “I’ll take my chances.”
Eternity is a very long time to take your chances.
I wonder how many other people are taking their chances, trusting in their good works, not relying on the only hope they’ve got, which is the person and work of Jesus Christ.
The one sure fact about life is that it’s going to end some day. I pray you’re not taking your chances when that day comes. Trust Christ now. He is your only hope. And He is hope enough.
The Psalmist prayed to the Lord, “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12). Uncomfortable as these considerations may be, it is wise for the living to contemplate their death. It is doubly wise when death makes a close approach.
Some years ago I was asked to call on a man who had recently been told by his doctor that his days were numbered. So I called him, made an appointment, and went to visit.
During our conversation, I asked him, “Now that you know your death is near, are you ready to die?”
“Yes,” he said, “I suppose I am.”
“Where do you expect you’ll be spending eternity?” I asked.
“In heaven, I hope,” was his reply.
“You hope?” I questioned gently. “Where does this hope come from?”
“I’ve been a pretty good man all my life. Never cheated, always kept my word, never stepped out on my wife.” He continued to recite a litany of good deeds in which he apparently hoped.
Concerned that his confidence was misplaced, I asked if he would like to know how to be sure, not just hope. He said he would.
For the next several minutes, I carefully shared with him the basics of the gospel. After explaining that Christ had done everything necessary for the salvation of anyone who would trust Him, I asked the man if he would like to put his faith in the Lord’s finished work.
“No thanks,” he replied. “All my life I’ve trusted in myself, and I’ll die trusting in myself.”
I was astonished. I’d never heard anyone listen so closely to the gospel only to have him refuse it so plainly. I reviewed the work of Christ, explained what it means to trust Him, and asked the man once more if he would like to place his life in Christ’s hands. His response still sends chills up my spine: “I’ve lived a pretty good life, and when it comes time for me to die, I’ll take my chances. Now, preacher,” he continued, “I think this conversation is over. You can leave.”
I hardly remember what happened after I left the man’s home. I was shaken by those four words he said to me: “I’ll take my chances.”
Appalling words, horrifying words: “I’ll take my chances.”
The sum total of human folly: “I’ll take my chances.”
Eternity is a very long time to take your chances.
I wonder how many other people are taking their chances, trusting in their good works, not relying on the only hope they’ve got, which is the person and work of Jesus Christ.
The one sure fact about life is that it’s going to end some day. I pray you’re not taking your chances when that day comes. Trust Christ now. He is your only hope. And He is hope enough.
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