A Light to Guide My Faith? Or A Barrier to My Own Belifs?

The Psalmist says that God’s word is a lamp to his feet and a light for his path (Ps. 119:105). He goes on to proclaim his loyalty to God’s law and his word no matter the circumstances, for his hope is in God’s word (v. 114).

The backbone of my faith has always been Scripture. I was taught at an early age to read it and to study my Bible. We carried it with us to church and, like the Bereans of Acts 17:11, followed the preacher’s logic to see if it lined up with Scripture. We kept the Bible by the bedside to read before going to bed. And if that wasn’t enough, I was sent to a small, private Christian school where daily prayer and Bible classes were mandatory to my education. The result was the emergence of a high view of Scripture, and a conscience effort to root my teaching and preaching in God’s word.

While I was taught to trust God’s word, I was also taught to be suspicious of anyone whose view of Scripture differed from mine. Since I was a conservative Christian, anyone to my left was held in suspicion. Since they didn’t take God’s word seriously (according to the standard I was shown), they were not to be trusted. They watered down God’s word and refused to preach the whole council of God. But in my twenty-five years of preaching, my experience has not quite lined up with what was taught me.

In the book of Zechariah, the people came to the prophet for advice. Following the fall of Jerusalem and the temple, Israel initiated a day of fasting to mourn the temple. For seventy years they commemorated this day, but now that the temple had been rebuilt they weren’t sure if they should continue this tradition. So they asked Zechariah for a word from God on this matter.

The response they received was not what they expected. God indicted them. First, God questioned their motives for their so-called “moment of silence” (Zech. 7:5-6). Secondly, he told them that their continued actions was not better than their forefathers taken into captivity (Zech. 7:7). Then he landed the final blow to Israel when he outlined what he really wanted from them, and it wasn’t a feast or a “moment of silence.”

Administer true justice; show mercy and compassion to one another. Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the alien or the poor. In your hearts do not think evil of each other (Zech. 7:9b-10).

I wish I could tell you that the Israelites responded and repented. I wish I could tell you that they tore their clothes in sorrow for their self-righteousness. I wish I could tell you how revival swept the land. But they were no better than their forefathers. They stood, turned their backs to Zechariah and plugged their ears to his message (Zech. 7:11-12). The response of the prophet did not fit their definition of what God wanted from them, so they refused to listen.

Where the word of God is intended to be a light to guide our faith, more times than not, it’s a barrier to what we want to believe. When we’ve stood to condemn people for undermining Scripture to support their belief system, we’ve failed to consider if we’ve done the same thing. We believe we should forgive, but justify the refusal to forgive “that” sin. We believe we should be compassionate, until we don’t trust people’s motives. We believe we should help the poor, only as long as the poor help themselves. We believe we should show love, until it’s a person difficult to love. Somewhere Jesus voice is silenced: “Yes, forgive ‘that’ sin. Yes, continue to be compassionate. Yes, keep helping the poor. Yes, true love is being stretched to its full measure.” If the truth be known we are the ones undermining the very authority of the Scripture we hold so dear.

A.W. Tozer (1897-1963) once said, “Most churches don’t hear God’s voice because we’ve already decided we aren’t going to do what he says.” I don’t think it’s just an indictment on those to my left, but to all who claim to follow the word of God.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

The Least of These

They never saw Jesus. Surely if they saw him they would have acted. Clearly if Jesus was present the food would have been given and shared. But no one saw the Son of Man, they just saw a homeless man on the side of the road dressed in ragged clothes, needing a bath, and holding a sign asking for food.

Rationalizing is easy. They’re too lazy to actually work. They’re manipulating the welfare system. They’ve blown their money on drugs and alcohol. They’re reaping what they’ve sown. If I dehumanize them, I don’t have to feel guilty when I ignore them.

So Jesus offers a glimpse into the scene on the day of his Return. He divides everyone into two groups as if dividing sheep from the goats. One group is welcomed into his kingdom, while the other group was rejected. One group was called “righteous,” and the other group was called “cursed.” The one group took action, while the other did nothing. Significant to the story, and to history of the church, the Return scene in Matthew 25 is rooted in compassion for the poor, not in specific doctrinal differences that divide the Christian community. In other words, Jesus is more interested in your level of compassion and less concerned about how many times you’ve taken the Lord’s Supper.

One of my fondest memories my two trips to Honduras was feeding the homeless with Amber Foster of Breaking Chains. She made a huge pot of soup and we drove to three locations to distribute the soup to the hungry. They were kind and gracious. They snorted glue from empty Coke bottles. Though we were in a dangerous part of town, I never felt like I was in danger.

I imagine plenty of people could rationalize a reason for Americans to avoid participating in such a ministry. It’s dangerous as the gang activity is high; Americans are at risk on foreign soil. If you get hurt what kind of medical care will you get? Or the government is supposed to take care of the poor. But one night under an overpass as we reached out to homeless families and offered them something to eat and kind words of encouragement, left a lasting impression.

The other day, I left SOMC after visiting a church member, the local hospital. Since it was near lunch time and I was driving past Burger King on my way back to the office, I decided to get a bite to eat. The sign on the door said, “Accepting Applications,” and I took notice of it as I entered the restaurant. I ordered my burger, fries and drink “to go.” With my drink and bag of food in hand, I exited the establishment, got in my car and started my trip back to the church building. As I turned left out of the parking lot, I stopped at the red light. To my left was a homeless man holding a sign asking for food scribbled on a piece of cardboard. Our eyes met. I had the bag of food and drink next to me, unopened. The light turned green and I took my eyes off the man and focused on the road before me. As I reached into the bag for the hamburger, I rationalized . . . “he’s too lazy to work, and he’s probably manipulating the system, and more likely, he’s blown his money on booze.”

As I drove away in silence, something in the back of my mind kept saying, “whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me” (Mt. 25:45).

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)