Humility

My friend Rebecca has a young daughter named Olivia. When Olivia was four, they were sharing a nice mother-daughter moment watching a documentary about dinosaurs on television. The show was produced by a local university, and it focused on dinosaurs who inhabited the area of North Texas where we live.

At the end of the documentary, Olivia turned to Rebecca and asked, "Mommy, did dinosaurs actually live right here, where we live now?" Rebecca mentally patted herself on the back for encouraging scientific interest in her preschooler. "Yes, Olivia, it's true. Dinosaurs lived here."

Olivia's eyes grew wide. "Oh Mommy...were you scared?"

Ichabod

A while back I heard a story from a church in the deep South. Every Sunday morning they gathered to give God thanks for the grace that accomplished their salvation. Every Sunday morning they prayed that God would help them be a witness of holiness in their community. But when one of their board members got word that the pastor had witnessed to an African-American couple, and invited them to worship the next Sunday . . . Well, the board member pulled the pastor aside and said:

"Don’t expect me to be back if you invite them. If they show up in this church you might just as well write ICHABOD above the door—God’s Spirit has departed from this place."

I heard that story and thought, “Oh no, you don’t need to worry about writing ‘Ichabod’ above the door. It has already been written.”

None of the folks in that church were planning an execution on their way to church the next Sunday. It wasn’t that direct. But when you assassinate the purposes of God one day, and show up to hand out bulletins and help take the offering the next day, you might just as well crucify Christ again. Week after week Christ is crucified all over again by sincere religious folks who assassinate the purposes of God and still manage to make it to worship on time without a drop of blood on them.

[from Preacher's Magazine:

http://www.nph.com/nphweb/html/pmol/pastissues/Lent%202006/webmar12.htm]

A Christmas Parable

There was a time when all the angels where gathered about the heavenly throne for a discussion. Things were in a mess down on earth. (What else is new?) The Creator had become concerned about the state of the Creation - wars, fighting, famine, bloodshed all over.

"I've tried everything," God complained. "I have spoken to them some of the most beautiful words they could ever hope to hear. Think of the glorious Psalms, the hymns, the poetic passages of Isaiah. They love to read about peace and goodwill, but they don't like to live it!"

God continued, "Then I sent them the prophets. They love Isaiah, the promises of release from their sufferings, freedom from their exile. But do they follow the precepts of the prophets about justice and righteousness rolling down like waters? Never!"

There was widespread discussion of the sad state of affairs on earth. Many of the angels - Gabriel, Michael, and others had been on earth on many an occasion. They had seen for themselves the sources of God's lament and shared God's concern.

"I think the only thing left is for one of you, a member of the heavenly court, to go down to earth. Live with them, not just for a moment, but every day. Get to know them, become one of them, live with them, let them get to know you. Only then will heaven's intent be truly communicated to them. Only then will they take notice of the great gap between the way they have been living and the way they were created. Only then will we be able to reveal to them who I created them to be."

The angels stood in awkward silence. They had been to earth before, to deliver messages from God or to effect some momentary intervention in human affairs. They weren't about to volunteer for long term duty in such a murderous, difficult place.

The silence lasted for an eternity. Finally, God broke the silence. Quietly, determinedly, but without resignation and no bitterness, God said, "Then I will go."

This is a parable of Incarnation.

[Told by Will Willimon.]

25 Cents at a Time

Fred Craddock, who taught at Candler School of Theology, Emory University, once said: “To give my life for Christ appears glorious. To pour myself out for others ... to pay the ultimate price of martyrdom — I’ll do it. I’m ready, Lord, to go out in a blaze of glory. We think giving our all to the Lord is like taking a $1,000 bill and laying it on the table — ‘Here’s my life, Lord. I’m giving it all.’ But the reality for most of us is that he sends us to the bank and has us cash in the $1,000 for quarters. We go through life putting out 25 cents here and 50 cents there. Listen to the neighbor kid’s troubles instead of saying, ‘Get lost.’ Go to a committee meeting. Give a cup of water to a shaky old man in a nursing home. Usually giving our life to Christ isn’t glorious. It’s done in all those little acts of love, 25 cents at a time. It would be easy to go out in a flash of glory; it’s harder to live the Christian life little by little over the long haul.” 

That’s radical conversion. It is being faithful when no one cares and no one notices. It is spending our 25 cents doing the right thing when no one is watching — when we could have easily given into the wrong thing. It is being faithful in the mundane and ordinariness of everyday life, when it may have been more exciting to do something else, or give in to laziness by doing nothing at all.

- From Sermon Central

Is This the Work of Your Kingdom?

Once upon a time there was a beggar who came with her begging bowl to a great king and asked for alms, for food, for anything that he would give. The king gestured to one of his advisers, and the beggar’s bowl was filled with grain. But to the adviser’s dismay, no matter how much he put in the bowl, it was still empty, as though it was bottomless. The king repeated his order, and the man sought to fill the bowl again and again and again. Finally, in desperation, the man cried to the king that the bowl seemed to eat everything that it was given.

The king looked at the beggar with different eyes, seeking to understand. The woman stood there with her empty bowl and patiently held it out for the offering. They both stood looking at each other, and the king finally asked: “Who are you and why have you visited my kingdom?” The beggar looked at the king and held out her begging bowl. She answered: “This bowl is the bowl of human wants and needs. It is impossible to fill, but it is the work of all those who believe in Allah, the most Compassionate One, to try. Is this the work of your kingdom?” And the beggar left the bowl on the floor in the middle of the great hall of the king. And she left.

[from Leave Her Alone by Megan McKenna. Orbis Books: Maryknoll, NY, 2000; p.95]

A Second Chance

On New Year's Day, 1929, Georgia Tech played the University of California in the Rose Bowl. During the first half of the game a player by the name of Roy Riegels recovered a fumble for California on his own thirty-five yard line. In evading some of the Georgia Tech tacklers, Riegels became confused. He started running sixty-five yards in the wrong direction. One of his teammates, Benny Lom, outran him and tackled him on the one yard line just before Riegels was about to score for Georgia Tech. Then, on the next play, when California attempted to punt out of its end zone, Tech blocked the kick and scored a safety, which was the ultimate margin of victory.


That strange play came near the end of the first half. Everyone watching the game was asking the same question: "What will coach Nibbs Price do with Roy Riegels in the second half?" The players filed off the field and trudged into the dressing room. They sat down on the benches and on the floor. All but Riegels. He pulled his blanket around his shoulders, and sat down in a corner, put his face in his hands, and wept like a baby.


A coach usually has a great deal to say to his team during half-time. That afternoon coach Price was quiet. No doubt he was trying to decide what to do with Riegels. Then the timekeeper came in and announced that there were three minutes before playing time. Coach Price looked at the team and said simply, "Men, the same team that started the first half will start the second."


The players got up and started out. All but Roy Riegels. He didn't budge. The coach looked back and called to him again. Still Riegels didn't move. Coach Price walked over to Riegels and said, "Roy, didn't you hear me? The same team that started the first half will start the second." Roy Riegels looked up and his cheeks were wet with tears.


"Coach," he said, "I can't do it. I've disgraced you. I've disgraced the University of California. I've disgraced myself. I couldn't face that crowd to save my life."


Then Coach Nibbs Price put his hand on Riegels shoulder and said, "Roy, get up and go on back. The game is only half over." Roy Riegels did go back, and those Tech players testified that they had seldom seen a man play as Roy Riegels did in that second half.


[from a sermon by Haddon Robinson: http://www.csec.org/csec/sermon/Robinson_4017.htm]

Called to Community

Several years ago studies were conducted among former American prisoners of war to determine what methods used by the enemy had been most effective in breaking their spirit. The findings revealed that they did not break down from physical deprivation and torture as quickly as they did from solitary confinement or from disrupted friendships caused by frequent changing of personnel. Attempts to get the prisoners divided in their attitudes toward one another proved to be the most successful method of discouraging them. It was further learned that the soldiers were not sustained primarily by faith in their country or by the rightness of the cause for which they fought. They drew their greatest strength from the close attachments they had formed to the small military units to which they belonged.
These observations help us understand why Christians need the group experience of fellowship with other believers to help them sustain the new life in Christ.

[from a sermon by Jim Davis: http://www.focusongod.com/Acts04s.htm]