Merry Christmas Everybody!
December 2017–Danny Sadler
For those of you who know me, you have probably noticed a habit of mine: I say “Merry Christmas” as a greeting or leaving thought, no matter what time of year it is.
The reason I do that may not be what most of you think. Yes, it does create a little chuckle most of the time, and we certainly don’t get enough chuckles these days, so part of my mission is to bring a little cheerfulness into our lives whenever I can.
But there is a deeper reason. We don’t really know the date of Christ’s birth. Many scholars have diligently tried to pinpoint the time, but the best anyone agrees on, was that Jesus was born sometime in a six-month-period between September and February. And it could have been as early as August or as late April. That’s a nine-month-period.
So, we don’t really know for sure when Jesus was born. And I suppose that it is possible that somehow the “experts” could have missed some detail–or the detail simply wasn’t given to them–and Jesus may have been born sometime in the three months that everyone has ruled out as a possibility.
When I study stuff like this, it makes my brain hurt! What we do know is that Jesus was born at night. Night time was the best time, because God wanted to announce the birth of His Son to all mankind! Or at least a handful of shepherds who were watching their flocks.
Imagine the scene as God set it up: The royal family in their dusty rags, relegated to the barn. A feed trough would have to make do as the first bed of the King of Glory! Outside the barn was the town of Bethlehem–a small agricultural community 8-10 miles south of Jerusalem. That was a two-to-three hour walk. In the early evening, the town may have been bustling a bit as travelers were passing through, taking rooms where they could find them.
Joseph and his young betrothed were a bit behind the crowd–arriving after everything was already full. So, their accommodations were not . . . first class. But the birth of the King was eminent and God wanted an audience to witness His love and the fulfillment of The Promise. And so Gabriel and the All Angel Choir took their places on the stage.
The world’s very first “Flash-Mob” was ready! Unsuspecting shepherds–society’s lowliest members–were about to be invited to become the first to hold audience with the “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
Some of the shepherds were milling around, softly talking to their sheep, or to each other. Other shepherds had undoubtedly taken their turn to catch a nap, entrusting their sheep to a fellow shepherd for a few hours.
Then without warning, suddenly the sky exploded in light! The shepherds were astounded, dumfounded, horrified, frozen in time and terrified! Some probably stood up with their mouths gaping. Others dropped their staffs, while still others grabbed a staff and ran for cover.
As the light swirled and jostled the shepherds awake, it finally settled on someone who was up on a large rock where everyone could see. The someone, it turns out, was no someone at all! He was an angel! And he spoke these immortal words:
10 . . .“Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. 11Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, [Christ] the Lord. 12This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
–Luke 2:10-12, NIV
After the birth announcement, the angel choir sang, “Glory to God in the Highest” (Gloria, in excelsis Deo!). What a night–and it wasn’t over! For act two, the shepherds had to relocate to the town of Bethlehem. Whether they left all the sheep with one or two shepherds, or they just left the sheep to fend for themselves, we are not told. But what we do know is that the vast majority of the shepherds did two things that night.
1) They went and searched and found Joseph, Mary and the baby Jesus. And they worshiped Him! We don’t know how long they stayed, or exactly what their worship service looked like, but they worshiped the King of Glory! They were the lowliest. They were the first to receive invitations. They were the first to worship King Jesus. And they were the first to be changed!
2) And changed they were! When the shepherds left the stable that night, late as it was, they did not immediately return to work, or go home as we often do when we leave a worship service. Nope, they were changed. The Bible tells us that they left Joseph and Mary and rushed out to tell everyone they encountered what had happened that night!
It had been over a thousand years since God had promised to send the Messiah. It had been four hundred years since they had last heard from God. Suddenly, the silence was shattered by Light of Man. The Son of God had set foot into our world and that would become the news of the day for the rest of eternity!
As you know, God wasn’t finished with the birth announcement. At the same time the shepherds were receiving the Good News for the first time, somewhere in the distance, traveling at night, following a star, was a caravan of individuals bringing gifts. They were outsiders, aliens, foreign dignitaries coming to worship and pay homage to the new King!
Gold–the universal gift given to one recognized as a King!
Frankincense–a burning fragrance used by the Priest!
Myrrh–an embalming herb used to preserve the body after death–not exactly the normal gifts one might bring to a baby shower. But highly perfect for the King of Kings, The Great High Priest and the Savior who sacrificed Himself for each of us. Happy birthday, Jesus!
Merry Christmas everybody!
Firefighting 101: or, God is There For the Dumb Animals Too!
I joined the Elida Fire Department when I was only fourteen years old. When I was fifteen, I took my first classes on firefighting. I had been a volunteer and/or professional fire fighter for twenty-one years when I left Portales, NM to move to Fort Worth, TX in 1995.
During that time, I had only had one workman’s comp claim. An on the job injury which involved a broken wrist suffered during an on-duty ping pong match. I was going for a slam, but miscalculated and knocked the table down. Somehow, as we (the table and I) fell, my wrist wound up underneath the edge of the table. Anyway, more about that later.
After living in Fort Worth and serving in churches for seventeen years, Sara and I left our home for the Texas Panhandle and our new home of Hartley. After a year or so in Hartley, I decided it was time to go back into firefighting and EMS.
The number one rule they teach you is to protect yourself at all costs!
Now, I don’t mean to diminish the many acts of heroism that many of my brethren and sisteren (sp?) firefighters have performed over the years. Saving lives and property is what we live for. And it’s really special when it works right and that happens!
But sometimes, we are our own worst enemy! On July 1, 2014, my sleep was disturbed somewhere around 6:00 a.m. with the rapid BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP sound of my pager going off. “Hartley Fire Department, Hartley Fire Department, you are needed for a hay fire at the . . . . . . . .”
I elected not to move. My wife, on the other hand, was anxious to get me out the door. When I arrived at the station, only Jeromy was there. We suited up in our gear, jumped in a fire truck and headed out. It was early, so the small talk, was small.
After we were at the fire for a short time we were joined by three other Hartley units as well as fire trucks from two other departments. Jeromy and I had staked out our territory and had begun knocking the flames down.
For those of you who are unaware, most hay fires are caused by spontaneous combustion. It happens when the hay gets too moist and once it is bailed, it slowly begins to decompose. If too much moisture is present, the process of decomposing with the added ingredient of moisture cause the bails of hay to vigorously over heat. Once the over heating evaporates the unneeded leftover moisture, the hay catches fire.
Because of this process, one cannot really put out a hay fire. What we can do, is protect the non burning hay and the building the hay is in. In our case, this was a pole barn. We knock the flames down, allowing the farm hands to use heavy machinery to move the bails (which weigh around 2,000 pounds each) out of the barn and place them somewhere where they can spontaneously combust without causing harm to anything else.
After we had been fighting the fire for two and a half or three hours, taking turns on the hose and the pumps, an unusual event took place. Some of the hay had begun to fall. The bales were stacked four high and I was on the hose. At one point, I decided to move my inch and a half line in order to get a better angle of attack. But my hose was snagged! I traced the hose back around a corner of the hay stack and found that four bales, stacked one on top of the other and all on fire, had fallen on my hose!
Actually, only one bale was on the hose, but it was still too heavy for me to be able to move the hose. I was wearing full protective bunker gear, but no mask or air pack. Up until this moment, I had been careful to place myself upwind of any smoke. Now, seeing my beloved water hose, pressurized to about 100 psi, trapped beneath a literal ton of hay, I jumped into action.
Without thinking of my own safety, I jumped into the barn (they tell you in class to always think of your own safety) and grabbed a portion of the hose near the bale. I began to pull. Then I began to yank! Then, I began to think that this was not working because the hose hadn’t moved at all.
So, without a mask or an air pack, I grabbed another firefighter to help me. As she attempted to pull the hose, I frantically began to shred the bale, flinging chunks of hay out of the way.
Did I mention the fact that the hay was on fire while I was doing this? There are a handful of probable outcomes for this scenario, but in the end, it worked! After lessening the weight of the bail enough, the volunteer firefighter helping me was able to pull the hose free . . . . and I hadn’t actually started a fire somewhere where I shouldn’t have! God was certainly watching over the situation!
Looking back, that is not the last time that I recognized God’s providence in that day of my life! After returning to the nozzle and spraying water for a few more minutes, I realized that the heat I had been enduring, coupled with the extreme straining and rapid activity, had taken it’s toll. I was exhausted! I was barely able to hold on to the nozzle. So putting down my ego, along with the nozzle, I returned to fire truck for relief sooner than I thought I should.
I sat down on the back of the fire truck to monitor the pump and the water level of the tank which was being fed by a large tanker from another department. After drinking a bottle of water and sitting there for about ten minutes or so, I began to notice a couple of things: The pain had subsided. But I was getting worse. My vision suddenly faded to black and then returned.
I don’t consider myself a genius, but I did recognize that loosing one’s vision is not normal–even if it is for just a few seconds. I was feeling very tired and weak, and decided that I was overheated. I spotted Jeromy and waved him over to tell him that I needed to go sit in the truck. I thought I would remove my coat, sit in the air conditioned cab, relax, drink some more water, admit defeat and begin recuperating.
Instead, I stood up and became very dizzy. I asked Jeromy to assist me to the cab. Instead, he apparently assisted me to the ground. I was out! I eventually came to and as I woke up, I noticed a handful of faces all staring at me. I didn’t really care, but it just seemed a bit bizarre. After sitting there on the ground for a few moments, I realized that I was reclining against Jeromy. I don’t know how he got back there.
Almost suddenly, I was wide awake and feeling better! I was sitting in and surrounded by a great deal of mud created by the leaking hose connections of the various fire trucks. I overheard someone ask, “How are we going to get him to the ambulance?”
Someone answered, “We’ll bring a backboard over here and carry him.”
I spoke up, feeling much better, but still not quite right and volunteered to walk (with assistance) to the ambulance.
After arriving at the ambulance, I began reflecting on the situation and what I could have done differently to have avoided it. The first thing that came to mind was that I should have found a safer, less taxing way to get the hose loose.
The second thing was to remember that when someone volunteers to carry you to the ambulance, let them carry you! When we got to the ambulance, I was done! After being loaded into the ambulance they took my blood pressure and, along with other significant signs, found that I was in shock. I didn’t really care.
I am not one to hurry death along. I’m the least bit suicidal. But at that moment, I knew for certain that I knew my Savior and He was with me! And I really didn’t care if I lived or died. It wasn’t that I wanted to escape the situation or that I was in such excruciating pain. I actually had no pain at all. And I was okay with fighting for life. I’m just saying that I know where I’m heading and on some level, look forward to being there with my Lord!
Not being able to catch my breath was a little disconcerting though. I was sweating heavily, and they couldn’t get me to stop long enough to get the sticky pads on me to do an EKG. When they finally did, It showed that I was having an acute heart attack. Tim was able to start an IV, but wanted a second one. He couldn’t get it. Scott couldn’t either, and they began transporting me to the hospital.
The one IV and a breathing treatment was enough to make me feel much better by the time we arrived at the hospital. An x-ray or two, some lab work and an EKG later, and I was on the way to the airport to be flown to Amarillo. I hate flying, but the flight wasn’t bad and was un-eventful.
Once at the hospital, they quickly moved me to the “Cath” lab where they found two completely blocked arteries. Two stints later and more labs and EKG’s and I was on the way to a room in the Cardiac Care Unit.
I had indeed suffered a massive heart attack, but by the grace of God, I have no residual effects from it! I am still on lifting restrictions due to the incision for the catheter. As I look back, though, I can definitely see the God of Heaven watching after one of His children who was definitely not watching after himself.
First of all, if any one thing had gone differently, I would most likely not be here writing this. If I had made it to the front of the truck, I probably would have died either in the time it would take for someone to check on me, or would have been too far gone to be saved. God’s timing through all of this, left me with a heart that apparently had narrowed arteries, now repaired. And no heart damage, no brain damage, no nothing! The final results could have been dramatically different, but God knew exactly what He was doing. And I’m okay with that!
I credit the overall outcome of my situation to some great firefighters, doctors, and nurses–a whole team of great folks! But I had many, many people praying for me, pleading my case before God Himself as well. Ultimately, my healing was due to the fact that God heard His people and answered their prayers!
The peace that I had all during this is confounding even to me. But I know it did not come from a frantic, last second cry for help. It came from a lasting, growing, love relationship that I’ve had with Jesus Christ since I was nine and is rooted much earlier than that.
My wife Sara has a very similar relationship with Jesus. She heard the pager go off when an ambulance was sent to the fire scene she knew I was at. Sara prayed for whoever was involved, but said she had a feeling it was me. Sara said she knew that everything would be okay because of her relationship with Jesus. She did not know whether I would live or not, but she knew it would be okay. It might be hard, but it would be okay.
Several of my friends have already expressed their relief that I’m okay. Many even seemed to be surprised that I’m as okay as I am. Most seem to reflect that the most important thing is that I made it through the event. The most important thing to me however, is that I was ready to go be with Jesus!
Are you?
Politically Correct Discipline
Politically Correct Discipline.
This is not my story. I don’t know who wrote it. But as a pastor, I am always looking for information to help those in my congregation to be better parents and grandparents. So, when my friend Kirby sent me this story, I knew I had to post it to share with each of you struggling with unruly children and creative ways to get them to obey. This may not work for everyone, but I do recommend you try it.
God bless each of you!
A Pilot Father’s Love…
Most people today think it improper to discipline children, so I have tried other methods to control my kids when they have had one of ‘those moments.’
Since I’m a pilot, one method that I have found very effective is for me to just take the child for a short flight during which I say nothing and give the child the opportunity to reflect on his or her behavior.
I don’t know whether it’s the steady vibration from the engines, or just the time away from any distractions such as TV, video games, computer, iPod, etc.
Either way, my kids usually calm down and stop misbehaving after our flight together. I believe that eye to eye contact during these sessions is an important element in achieving the desired results.
I’ve included a photo below of one of my sessions with my son, in case you would like to use the technique.
Christmas Memories
A few years ago I was asked to write a Christmas memory for a church publication and thought this would be a good time to pull it out and post it here:
There had been a deluge of the white stuff the day before. Now, everything was calm, quiet and dark-white. And knee deep. Of course, the snow was just barely over my dad’s ankles, but he was tall and I was masquerading as a seven year old, having just had a birthday the day before.
So, it was a semi-dark and peaceful night. Well, it was really very early morning. Around four a.m. I didn’t even know they had a four o’ clock in the morning. My dad had gotten me out of my pseudo-warm bed and took me out into the dark to show me what Christmas meant to him. It had sounded far more impressive the night before.
As we set in the cold cab of his pick-up truck waiting for the heater to warm up, Daddy reminded me that I would have to stay as quiet as a thief. I didn’t really know any thieves, so I had no real benchmark to go by. We drove a few blocks in the freshly fallen snow and arrived at a vacant house where my dad pulled into the driveway. Actually, there was no driveway, but if there had of been one, we would’ve been parked where it should’ve been.
We got out of the warm truck and I landed in the knee deep stuff that was in drifts as high as my head. Daddy gave me a look that made me realize that I was actually telepathic. And I didn’t even know what “telepathic” meant! But I got a really clear-buoyant message that Daddy didn’t want to see foot prints in the drifts so, against my primal urges, I walked around them.
As carefully as I could, I marched forward in the cold. Eventually, we arrived in front of an old, broken down house and hid behind an elm tree near the front yard. Daddy whispered to me, “Stay here, don’t move, and don’t make a sound. I’ll be right back.” With that, he carefully scampered (not unlike the Grinch) to the front door, where he laid a large, still-dirty feed sack, filled with brightly wrapped packages. Through the process of delivering the packages, my dad seemed to be really invigorated. I was just tired and cold!
Back at the pick-up, Daddy started the engine and more importantly, the heater. We drove down to the town square in our very small desert town. Earlier, in the dark of evening, the Christmas decorations had been all lit up. But now, these decorations were all dark and barely visible. Daddy made me get out of the heated cab and walk into the cold, dark park with him.
On one side of our decidedly Christian square was a life-sized nativity scene made of plywood. We walked up close enough to be having a conversation with some of the shepherds. The wise men looked different from up close and I began to notice things that I had not seen before. Then, Daddy began to explain the birth of Jesus to me. I had probably heard the story in some form or another a handful of times by the time I was seven, but somehow, it had never had the impact that it did that night. Standing there in the snow, Daddy told me of how Jesus was born to a poor, traveling family with no place to stay. Daddy explained to me, that they were placed in a make-shift room that used to be a house for cows and sheep.
It was probably cold. It was mostly dark. And just like Daddy and I, Joseph and Mary were the only ones stirring in that small town at that hour. And God chose that moment and that place for the King of Glory to arrive in our world. Daddy explained to me that he had used a dirty feed sack to deliver Christmas packages to a needy family because it just seemed a little more like Christ. Jesus had been born into a dirty stable and his first crib had been a feed trough for sheep. If anyone had looked at the outside, it would have seemed a little less than regal. But there were some shepherds who had been given some inside information telling them to look inside.
Daddy told me that the most important part of Christmas is to show Christ to the world around us. We do that most by letting the world around us see Christ at work in us.
This Christmas, I am reminded to show Jesus to someone who needs Him. Will you join me?
Water Heaters and Instruction Books
The other day, I found myself getting a bit frustrated. I was standing at the sink, trying to get some hot water to wash my face. It was early in the morning and I was having trouble discerning which knob should be turned to get the water to run hot. It didn’t seem to matter which knob I turned, both were cold. This caused me to question for a moment as to whether or not I had paid the water bill, because I happen to know that if you don’t pay your water bill, they shut off your water. And if they shut your water off, you can’t get hot water.
“But wait,” I thought! “If they turn off the water, you can’t get cold water either.” And I had more than enough cold water. What I was in short supply of was hot water! Just as I was trying to contort my mind around these complicated concepts, my wife walked in and inquired of my quandary. After explaining my situation, my wife suggested that the problem might be with the hot water heater because she had observed water in the water heater closet earlier. I asked her if that water was hot. I was met with a rather cold stare (I’m guessing she didn’t know).
If you have never tried to change out a hot water heater . . . . don’t. As adventurous as it sounds, it isn’t. I knew enough to know my first item of business. I needed to get to the hardware store and purchase a couple of manly looking wrenches and a new water heater.
The first thing out of the salesman’s mouth was “How many gallons does your old water heater hold?” I told him I’d be right back. When I returned to the store, I was prepared. I had written down all the pertinent information, including the color. Having purchased appliances before, I knew the importance of choosing the right color water heater (ours was a kind of dusty white with a bit of graying near the bottom and several rust colored globules on the pipes leading into and out of the heater).
I was rather surprised to find out that the store, which had a wide selection of water heaters, did not carry any color other than white. I was beginning to question whether or not I had chosen the right store. Then the salesman asked me how many BTU’s I preferred. I asked him, “What’s a BTU?”
“British Thermal Units,” he replied.
I told him I was American and proud of it!
I finally got home with my new water heater and carefully maneuvered it into the house, proudly standing it in the middle of the living room. Next, I took my brand new, manly looking wrenches and began disconnecting the pipes from the water heater (taking extreme care as to not scratch my new wrenches). After a few minutes of loosening connections, it occurred to me that it would be prudent to go out to the front yard and turn off the water. I came back inside and changed into some dry clothes and returned to water heater closet. It was at this point, that I wondered to myself, “Why don’t these things come with instructions?” Then, I looked over at a clear plastic packet with some sort of pamphlets inside (Optional equipment brochures, no doubt).
I guess it’s worse with us guys. We hate reading instructions and/or asking for directions. However, if we did read the instructions, we’d probably scare ourselves into calling a professional . . . and that just wouldn’t do! So, after he arrived, I asked my plumber why more guys don’t read the instructions. He just shrugged, picked up a manly looking wrench and began taking my broken pipe apart.
I asked my plumber if he was a Christian and he replied, “Yeah,” but then added that he never reads the Bible, though. He said he didn’t need instructions either.
I wish my plumber would learn the he needs instructions as much as anybody else. I went out to change the brakes on my car and ponder his situation. “There’s a sermon in this somewhere!”
Piano Moving 101
I was recently retained to move two old antique pianos from our church building and relocate them to the local dump. We had been trying to move them out for about two years, putting ads in the Star-Telegram and on Craig’s List. Apparently, you just can’t give good junk away. Anyway, I was recently approached by one of our deacons and he asked if I could enlist some help and move the two pianos. One from the basement and the other from the second floor. I have had experience moving pianos before, and although they are a pain, they usually are not insurmountable.
We arrived at the church and promptly went to the basement, thinking this piano would be the hardest, so we wanted to get it out of the way first. I have moved pianos before with only one other person and while that is pretty taxing, it can be done. My trusted helper Mark and his brother David grabbed one end and I picked up the other—just to get a feel of how heavy this lead-laden beast was going to be. While we managed to get the thing off the floor, we couldn’t even take a step. This was absolutely the heaviest thing I have ever been privileged to rupture a muscle over.
Even though we were all straining so hard that we were unable to speak, we managed to communicate with our eyes and agreed to drop the thing in unison. Attempting to get a second, better grip and having our fourth helper Kirk join in resulted in nothing better than the first attempt. I quickly processed the following: We are supposed to take this thing to the dump. The dump will have a large machine roll over the piano numerous times, reducing it to toothpicks and thus depriving us of the opportunity to utterly destroy the thing ourselves.
After about two hours, it occurred to me that mother had been wrong when she told me to be careful with our neighbor’s piano because I might break it. This thing wasn’t gonna come apart with a mortar blast. We unscrewed every screw and unbolted every bolt. And yet this thing was still in one solid piece. It was like magic. It was like they had used some sort of industrial strength glue or something.
With everything unscrewed or unbolted, we then grabbed a ten-pound sledge hammer and begin to give it “the ol’ college try!” One hard swing and then another. We barely scratched this hundred year piano. I was beginning to think that it was actually a recycled World War I bunker. But finally, the large, flat board on one side of the piano flew off with amazing force. Then the rest of the piano fell over backwards and nearly killed Kirk.
It’s amazing how loud a piano is when every string is struck at the same time.
In any event, we finished disassembling the piano and carried it up the stairs in manageable pieces. The string board by itself was actually heavier than most pianos I have moved. We got the thing loaded on the trailer and called it a day.
The following day, we reluctantly returned to grab the second piano. We stared down the menacing beast for a few moments and then I gave the command to lift. Surprisingly, it came loose from the floor with a modicum of ease. It was still very heavy, but after our battle the day before, we felt buoyed to victory. We felt like we could do this.
We quickly moved a couple of items and marched the doomed piano out of the cell that had held it until this moment. This was going to be easy. Then we arrived at the door. Just outside the door was a stairway that ran along the outside of the building. We had measured it and to our surprise, it was plenty wide for the piano. Not for us, but for the piano.
After some mild trouble making the corner, we decided to launch the piano down the stairs and pick it up at the bottom. It didn’t launch. At best, we could, with great effort, hanging from the outside part of the stairwell, get this thing to roll and tumble uncontrollably down one, sometimes two steps before one of us would lose our grip and fall off the side of the stair well.
Amazingly, the piano was still in one piece—aside from a couple of removable parts that we had removed. Finally, at the bottom of the stairs, this thing seemed to have gained weight. We could no longer easily pick it up. We were exhausted and Kirk kept whining about one of his feet that was pointing in the wrong direction. In spite of all this, we finally got it into the trailer and loaded up.
After driving about a half mile through a backwoods residential area that is truly off the beaten path, I navigated a corner and pulled over so we could reload the piano. Picking it up out of the ditch proved to be a bit of challenge since there was nothing level to balance the piano on. After some wrestling, we managed to get the piano back into the trailer. I noticed that the base of the piano or the floor of the trailer (I couldn’t tell which) seemed to be a bit wobbly. I thought about tying it down this time, but all I had with me was my good rope and I didn’t want to hurt it.
I took off slowly and crept my way down the street trying to ignore the faces in the windows of the homes we passed. After driving about a half a block, the piano committed suicide. I realized at that moment that this piano was not put together like the first one. It completely shattered the second time it hit the pavement. It was a sad end to a condemned life. Its last several years had been in spent in storage. And now, it lay in assorted pieces strewn along the roadway between two houses. In unison, we all jumped into the air, giving a fist pump and a primal scream of approval. Well, everyone except Kirk who was still whining about feigned injuries sustained back at the stairwell.
After picking up the pieces . . . . and Kirk, we retired to my house for lunch and a rousing game of Halo. After a bit of debriefing, we decided to add a line to our services—Piano moving! But so far, no one has called.
How Do We Stack Up?
Everyone needs to stop and evaluate their life every now and then. Have you set goals? Do you have dreams? Did you make any resolutions back on New Year’s Eve? One of the ways we work toward our goals/dreams/resolutions is to keep track of where we are in relation to where we want to be. Even Jesus did that with His earthly ministry. Look at this:
13 When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?”
14 They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”
15 “But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”
16 Simon Peter answered, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
17 Jesus replied, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven. 18 And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.”
–Matthew 13:13-18, NIV, ‘84
- Jesus was evaluating His ministry.
- Jesus was concerned about whether or not His message was getting out.
What about us? How effectively is our message getting out. How many people do you see on a daily or weekly basis that know about your church? Have you told them? Have you shared Christ with them? How do you expect them to know if you don’t tell them?
What about your youth group, Bible study class or church? How well is it doing?
We tend to coast too much. We just take life as it hits us. One of the things I used to hate in athletics was when they did benchmark tests. We had to see how high we could jump, how fast we could run, how much we could lift, etc. It was torture for me to do all of that. But it was important so that later, we could see if I was improving in the areas the coach wanted me to improve in. Evaluating one self is rarely fun–whether it be in athletics or spiritual in nature. And as important as it is evaluate ourselves to see how we line up with what we think we should be doing, it is even more important to get God’s opinion! Look at what King David wrote:
23 Search me, O God, and know my heart; 
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
24 See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.
–Psalm 139:23-24, NIV, ‘84
- David was not content to evaluate himself.
- David asked God to evaluate him.
The Bible tells us that God knows everything there is to know about us. He knows what we are thinking. He knows what we are doing in our most secretive, private moments. Knowing this, David was bold enough to ask God to evaluate him. If you were to ask God to evaluate yourself, what do you think He would say? Do you pray enough? Do you witness enough? Are you submissive to God? Are you committed enough? Are there things in your life that you need to cut out or drastically adjust?
If you had to change one thing about your spiritual life to get closer to where God wants you to be, what would it be?
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If your church was dependent on people who were only as dedicated and committed as you are, what kind of ministry would it be?
If your church was as committed to worshipping Christ in their daily lives as you are, how closely would they be following God?
We do not dare to classify or compare ourselves with some who commend themselves. When they measure themselves by themselves and compare themselves with themselves, they are not wise.
–2 Corinthians 10:12, NIV, ‘84
Don’t worry about what everyone else is doing. Become the leader God wants you to be today!
This Gospel Must Be Preached to All Creatures
Exhausted is what I was. Mentally, physically, spiritually. I was tired. It had been a long week and it was only Wednesday. I went to the church early, hoping to have some quiet time before we were inundated with unruly youth. Just after getting to the church, a couple of Junior High girls showed up and asked me if I could take them to go get Heather.
Heather was a young girl that we had been inviting to church for a number of weeks, but every time we went by to pick her up, she had a different excuse for not being able to come that day. Because of my time constraints with work, I picked up kids on Sundays, but did not do so on Wednesdays, and did not want to start–especially not on this day. Did I mention I was tired?
Finally, I became convinced that these girls would not stop bugging me until I finally relented my unrestful state of rest and got up to make a useless trip to Heather’s house, convinced that I was going to hear one more of a long litany of excuses. A few minutes later, when we arrived at Heather’s, she was waiting on the front porch wearing a new dress. She was actually overdressed for our youth group, but she came running to the car, jumped in and back to the church we went.
By the time we arrived, kids were starting to trickle in in increasing numbers and I was not going to get any peace or rest. We started a harried worship service, I taught the lesson, and in front of a large number of kids, Heather came up to the stage at the end of the program to announce that her heart had been touched and she was accepting Jesus as her Savior.
I never got my rest or peace, and yet I went home very refreshed and very peaceful that night! How does that happen? Let’s look at some Scripture:
22Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. 23Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror 24and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. 25But the man who looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues to do this, not forgetting what he has heard, but doing it—he will be blessed in what he does.
–James 1:22-25, NIV
To summarize:
- Don’t just learn about the Bible, but figure out how to apply what it says daily!
- It does no good to listen or learn about the Bible and not do what it says.
- It also does no good to listen and then forget.
- We must learn, remember and do!
If we were to take a poll from the youth group to the oldest Sunday School class and everyone in between, and ask them what is the main reason behind why we are supposed to come to church, do you know what the main answer would be? Overwhelmingly, most people say they come to church to learn about God. The second most common answer is to worship. But when asked about “doing the Word,” these same Bible students tend to get a bit fuzzy. They talk about the importance of “being good” and “living in a way that would make Christ proud,” but what does that mean? What does it truly mean to be a “doer of the Word?”
Let’s look at a couple of keys:
37Jesus replied: ” ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’38This is the first and greatest commandment. 39And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’40All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”
–Jesus, (Matthew 22:37-40, NIV)
18Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in[a] the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
–Jesus, (Matthew 28:18-20, NIV)
- We are commanded to love everybody!
- We are commissioned to reach as many people as possible with the gospel of Jesus and lead them to become disciples of Jesus.
So, we all know that we are supposed to do these things as individuals. And somehow, my experience has been that when we are obedient to Scripture, there is a sense of accomplishment–a pat on the back if you will. Real rest and peace results, but if we really want to see our church/class/Bible study groups grow, we must find ways to demonstrate these actions corporately. How do you suggest we as a class, proceed?
Our choices: do nothing and die. . . . or we could . . .
How God Played a Joke on Me . . . or The Time I May Have Spoke In Tongues!
Normally, I would arrive at the church around 8:00 a.m. on Sunday morning. I would park at the southeast corner of the large building and then cut through the youth room—a large multi-purpose room connected to the south end of the church and then exit through the northwest corner of the youth room, head to the garage and get the van. This route took me straight through the far south part of the church and left me nowhere near a telephone. The plan was to get the church van out of the garage, warm it up, head out and begin picking up 10-15 youth for Sunday School and be back at the church by 9:30.
On this particular morning however, I diverted from my path and went the long way around , through the building. I don’t really know why I did that. I’d never done it before. Nobody was there. I guess I just decided I needed the exercise. In reality, I probably had an ADD moment and forgot how to get to the church van. In any event, just as I was passing the Sunday School office (a small covey hole with a desk, a file cabinet . . . . and a phone), the telephone began to ring.
I stopped and answered the phone, realizing that no one should be at the church and therefore, no one should be calling it. I identified myself and heard a whimpering, young female voice on the other end of the line. The young lady explained that her father had brought her down from Albuquerque (250 miles away) on Friday and moved her into a dorm for the fall semester of college. Just before her father went back to Albuquerque, he had taken her to a used car lot and purchased a car for her to navigate around town. Since it was still a few days before school was scheduled to start, the young lady had only met one or two people and she was unable to get hold of them.
She had woke up hungry and excited on this beautiful Sunday morning and decided to go get some breakfast. On the way, she stopped to get gasoline for her new car. But once filled, the car wouldn’t start. In our small town of Portales back in the mid-eighties, there were no repair shops open on Sundays, so she called her dad. The family had rarely ever attended church and her dad was apparently operating under the false assumption that churches were filled with off-duty mechanics at 8:00 on Sunday mornings, and they must be just sitting around waiting for an opportunity to rescue a damsel in distress. With this erroneous thinking in place, dad told daughter to get a phone book and call a local church for help. After all, that’s what the church is there for, he assured her.
As it turned out, there were no off-duty mechanics in our church when she called. I’m not sure there were ever any in our congregation. What she got, was an off-duty idiot playing the role of a youth minister. I had no idea what to do, so I simply told her I’d be right there. I got the directions and the church van and headed to the convenience store where she was waiting.
I know a little amount about cars, but I’ve never been great at diagnosing their problems. I can take a car apart and put it back together, but to actually fix one . . . . well, that’s another story altogether. When I drove up, I found the young lady with her red, puffy eyes, still sitting next to the gas pump. She was just beside herself and still so upset, she was trembling. I asked her to pop the hood and when she couldn’t figure it out, I got in and tried to help. It turns out that the car was an English model and was very different from anything I’d ever seen. By the time I figured out how to open the hood, she had already filled me in on her story.
I walked to the front of the car and raised the hood. To my horror, I didn’t recognize anything under the hood. I assumed there was engine in there somewhere, but it didn’t look anything at all like any motor I’d ever seen. I glanced around the hood and looked into the eyes of this eighteen year old lady who had now placed what was left of her hope for humanity in me. I knew I was about to let her down and have no idea what possessed me to do what I did next, but I just jumped in with both feet and did one of the many things that makes me think that I am so adorable.
With no idea what to do to fix the car or make it start—it would crank, but it wouldn’t fire off—I placed my left hand on what I think was a strange looking air breather and held my right hand in the air. With my open palm stretched toward heaven, I cried out:
“Umnighbegamedilliwhoopum!” I have no idea what that was supposed to mean—it was simply garbledy-goop to me and in my moment of uselessness, I guess I decided to go down in flames. I leaned around the hood and saw that the young lady’s eyes were about to bug out of her head and said in my best redneck accent, “try it now!”
She never took her eyes off of me or even blinked, but she reached for the key and turned it. The car instantly roared to life. If it were possible, she appeared to be even more shocked than she had been a moment before. I shut the hood and walked up to her, handed her a card from our church and told her we would be serving donuts and coffee/juice in about an hour to the handful of other college and career kids that would undoubtedly be there. I invited her to come and then turned, got in the van and drove away. She still hadn’t blinked and I just acted like I did that sort of thing all the time.
Now, some of my Assembly of God friends (and others), may actually do that kind of thing from time to time, but I’m a dumb Baptist and had never experienced anything like that. I still have no idea what happened, except for this: God used a used car that had malfunctioned to set a series of strange circumstances in play. Whether I yielded to the prompting of the Holy Spirit, or was just placed in the right place at the right time, I’m not sure.
What I am sure about is that once I answered the phone, I had a choice to make. Either I could try to rescue this young lady, or admit I knew nothing about cars and was too busy to get involved, leaving her to look elsewhere for help.
When I arrived back at the church with a van full of youth, someone met me at the door to tell me that the young lady was there and had asked for me. I went and found her in the college department where she was already getting to know a couple of other students. She jumped up and came to give me my long overdue hug and then broke into tears again. I just chuckled and told her the Lord had something special in store for her.
Little did I realize that in a few short weeks, she would invite Jesus into her life as her Lord and Savior and a few years later, would surrender to serving Christ as a missionary. She became a vital part of our college and career group and our lives, before leaving to follow God out into the world of missions a few years later. When I think about this story, it still gives me goose bumps to think that because I didn’t know anything, God was able to show Himself to her (and maybe me too) in a very special way, and I wasn’t able to take any credit at all for it! It would have been so easy (and even logical) for me to have said “no” to God at any point along the way. I wonder what it would be like if we could learn to better follow the prodding of the Holy Spirit in our daily lives.
Love . . . in 3-D!
Admittedly, there are not very many good 3-D movies out there. But they are making more of them and when you find a good one, it’s usually worth the price of admission. Why? Because we suddenly see things on the movie screen that we don’t normally see. When that happens, the picture comes alive. Sometimes we need to see things in the Bible in the same way in order to get the deeper meaning. Hopefully, we will see this very old message in a new way this morning–as if we were seeing it in 3-D for the first time.
We will start with the definition of the word “Love.” Biblically speaking, love is one of the most misunderstood and most talked about words used in our Christian expressions. The first problem begins with the modern definition of the word love in English. Many dictionaries begin the many and varied lists of meanings with this: “Love is an emotion.” By far, the most widely used form of the word love is while we are thinking of it as a noun. An emotion. Generally a feel good moment, thing, or person. When using love this way, we are looking at it from the perspective of how does (blank) make me feel. If I feel good enough, then I say I love (blank).
But this is not how the Bible itself defines love. Take a look:
4Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8Love never fails.
–1 Corinthias 13, 4-8a, NIV, ‘84
Love’s 3-D’s:
- Love is a DECISION. We do not often have a lot of say-so in whom we are attracted to. But we can definitely choose whom we love!
- Love requires DISCIPLINE. Practicing things like patience, kindness and not being self-seeking (or selfish) requires a lot of work! These things do not come easily to most of us. When I was younger, my grandmother told me I needed to pray for patience. I told her I didn’t want any!
- Love is DIFFICULT. The practice and the wishing will not make it so. When we try to love someone, at some point we will fail. We have difficulty understanding that. We usually think of the other person as the one who fails.
- Love is an action VERB! And here is the root of our problem! We often think of love as “the way we ‘feel’ toward another person.” But when we think that way, we are being “self-seeking” or “self-serving.” We say we love someone when we feel good about being around them. This emotion is more closely related to lust than love. Lust is what we get–love is what we give. As soon as many people stop “getting” in a relationship, then they want out.
So, what are we to do with this information? How do we live out Biblical love? It’s one thing to begin understanding love as a verb rather than a feel-good emotion, but it’s entirely another to figure out how Jesus would have us put that new-found knowledge into practice. If we are truly followers of Jesus, then we must figure out how to follow Him in the most important area:
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.”
–Jesus, (John 13:34, NIV, ‘84)
So, how exactly, using love as an action we take, rather than an emotion we feel, do we go about loving others the Jesus wants us to? Let’s look:
27“But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, 28bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. 29If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also. If someone takes your cloak, do not stop him from taking your tunic. 30Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. 31Do to others as you would have them do to you.
32“If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even ‘sinners’ love those who love them. 33And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even ‘sinners’ do that. 34And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even ‘sinners’ lend to ‘sinners,’ expecting to be repaid in full. 35But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. 36Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.”
–Jesus, (Luke 6:27-36, NIV, ‘84)
- Jesus tells us to love those who do not love us!
- Another way to say this is that we are supposed to do things we may not like doing for people we’d rather not be around!
- It’s not about us! It’s about Him and them!
theweirdworldofdanny 