Masquerade!

Like an intermission to a stage play, the owners of the Palais Garnier Opre House felt the reprieve from the ghost who intimidated them. Incompetent in their management of the production and property, they decided to boost morale by throwing a party. A ball. A masquerade ball. Intended to be a prelude to the hopeful peace of the new opera season, it unfolded more like an interlude to the escalating fear terrorized by the phantom residing beneath the opera house.

As the cast gathered in a festive mood, wearing costumes and masks, they sang of “paper faces on parade” and “(hiding) your face so the world will never find you.” Yes, they were hiding, but for different reasons. André and Firmin were hiding their ineptitude management skills hoping to make a profit. The cast were hiding their deepest fears, knowing that cost cuts were driving productions, while dreading that the mysterious phantom might return. Christine and Raoul were hiding their engagement. The Phantom, whose hideous facial birth defects were hidden by his mask, would finally come out of the shadows to hide no more.

Masks and costuming have always been a popular feature, a way to conceal one’s true self. From children dressing up to “trick or treat,” to actors on stage performing for an audience, to the popularity of the Comic Cons, we love to gussy up to pretend to be something we’re not. The masquerade appeals to our inner child and creative imagination. When used as a chance to escape and make-believe, while innocently roll-playing, that’s one thing. When used sinisterly to hide one’s true shadowy character, as a tool to manipulate others, that’s a darker scenario. A whole lot darker.

Within the shadowy darkness a costume masquerading as hope and trust emerges to gain confidence, only to victimize the vulnerable. They are, as the tale of Aesop says, only a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

A lone wolf was sitting on a ridge overlooking a flock of sheep. He was hungry and tired, wanting to sink his teeth into a juicy leg of lamb. He salivated at the thought of such a hearty meal. But he was tired, and harnessing the energy to stalk and pursue one of the sheep took more than the strength within him. Still, he was famished, determined to feast on lamb chops by dinnertime. But the “how” evaded him.

His stomach growled while he imagined the meal before him, until he noticed a sheep’s skin behind a bush. Looking at the fleece before him and the flock in the valley, an idea began taking shape in his mind. “What if,” he thought to himself. “What if I wore the skin and infiltrated the flock before sunset? I could choose the choice of the litter.” With renewed energy, the wolf began phase one of his plan: wear the sheepskin. While he was able to put the skin on, it was clear that he wore a size forty-long, and the sheepskin was a size thirty-six regular. Awkwardly completed, he moved to the second phase of his plan: infiltrate the flock. If he had to look the part, he also needed to sound the part. It took him a while to capture the bleat vocalization, though it still sounded more like a wolf cry. “Bawooooo” echoed on the hills overlooking the flock of sheep. It would have to do, besides the sheep were not known for being the brightest of animals.

The wolf crept into the flock’s vicinity and began to casually eat grass, nearly choking while he was grazing. If the sheep were aware of his presence, they showed no concern. The wolf’s plan was in play, unfolding even better than he hoped.

When evening came, the shepherd herded the flock into the pen and locked the gate. The excitement from the wolf was almost more than he could endure. As he hoped, he had the pick of the litter, and he wasn’t going to waste it. He inspected each one. “This one was too small, that one was too old,” he thought to himself, “but this one was just right.” As he was about to sink his salivated teeth into its flesh, he heard the gate behind him unlock. Soon, the voice of the shepherd was heard. “Time for dinner. Which one should I fix?” As he inspected his flock, the wolf heard him say, “This one is too small, and that one is too old. This one,” reaching for the wolf, “looks just right.”

It was at this time that the shepherd discovered that his sheep was not a sheep but a wolf, while the wolf learned a little too late that pretending to be something you are not, is very dangerous.

The threat within the church at Corinth was real, a threat like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a destructive evil masquerading as religious charisma. Like cancer it was metastasizing throughout the body. Between the undermining and character assassination of Paul presented through the magnetic charm of those infiltrating the church, shifting loyalties were felt. Paul began to push back in some of his strongest words yet.

While dripping with sarcasm, he had previously called them “super-apostles” (2 Cor. 11:5), as if they were some heroes of faith. Paul wasn’t serious, and they weren’t super. They weren’t apostles either, at least not by the same definition Paul used. Instead, Paul ups the ante as he calls them “false apostles” and “deceitful workmen” (v. 13). Instead of being shaped by God, they shaped themselves. These men marketed themselves as great faithful protagonists in God’s story, when in reality, they were the evil villains intentionally preying on the goodness and weakness of the church. “Intent” is the key word. They weren’t naively misinformed but deliberately encroaching on Paul’s ministry.

 To underscore the deceptive nature of this threat Paul drops the word “masquerade” three times, unveiling the true faces behind their masks. First, they are masquerading as apostles of Christ (v. 13). Unlike an apostleship ordained by God’s will (1:1), Paul questions the authenticity of their calling, advertising something they are not. Seeking financial support from the Corinthians may be one of the keys to understanding their exploitive nature. Paul, while accepting support from others, consistently refused money from Corinth. On the other hand, these antagonists came to Corinth with their hands wide open. Greed, not generosity, was driving their ministry.  

Secondly, with a direct line to the source of evil, Paul calls out Satan as one who masquerades as an angel of light (v. 14). Hope is a beacon of light as it cuts through the darkness of sin, guilt, and shame. Jesus himself is light who calls his followers to be a light bringing glory to God (Jn. 8:12; 9:5; Mt. 5:14-16). Scripture is filled with the angels of God on errands of mercy. Yet, as Satan so easily does, he comes appearing good and pleasing to the eye, only too late do we discover the dark monster behind the angelic light. Discernment on the part of the church is not only needed but required. Not all that looks good is good.

Finally, Satan and these antagonists are linked together as they masquerade as servants of righteousness (v. 15). The two are joined at the hip, teaming up to spread their corruption throughout the church. By now the only question at stake is whether or not they really know that they are working for Satan. Only in their arrogance do they live in denial.

When I began my ministry in the 1990s, a friend pointed me to a book by Kenneth Haugk entitled, Antagonists in the Church: How to Identify and Deal with Destructive Conflict. The book was filled with advice and horrific stories of church members who were abusive and vindictive to the body of Christ. Key elements to the book include that not all conflict is destructive since it’s normal and can even be healthy. Also, if someone is antagonistic outside of church, they will certainly be antagonistic within the church. Finally, never give voice or authority to those who stir up trouble, for they will divide and destroy the congregation.

The book was written from the perspective of the pastor. Haugk wasn’t wrong, and his analysis helped other pastors navigate the sometimes-difficult, if not toxic, waters of church life. People can be difficult, but so can church leaders. The book needs to be updated to unmask church leaders who abuse their own congregations. Stories abound of senior pastors hiding church funds, and youth pastors grooming children, and church board members using intimidation tactics to keep people in line, while a cult of personality fuels the climate. Instead of serving the people, the church is only a pawn for the leadership to exploit and to abuse.

If Paul were addressing such issues, he might call them out for the masquerade they have embraced. Ultimately, he would neither pull punches, nor worry about his poll numbers. The wolf in sheep’s clothing would be laid bare, reiterating the serious words of the apostle, “their end will be what their actions deserve” (v. 15b).

When Frodo arrived at Bree, he expected to find Gandalf waiting for him. Instead, he’s given a letter with instructions. Contained within the letter is the Riddle of Strider, a poem written by Frodo’s uncle, Bilbo, which reads in part, “All that glitters is not gold.”

Mesmerized and drawn to something bright that sparkles, appearing like gold, is a continual temptation. Failing to recognize the value beneath appearances forces many to miss the true worth of an individual. Charisma often overrides character, and Corinth fell for that trap like it was sprung for them. Frodo would be tempted to ignore Strider’s significance because Rangers had chosen a life in the wild, a life others look upon in distrust, even though they were working in stealth to keep communities safe. Even more, beneath the Strider Ranger masquerade was Aragorn, heir to the throne of Gondor. The gold in Strider never glittered, until one realized the gold beneath the character was the king in waiting.

Maybe J.R.R. Tolkien could have addressed this crisis in Corinth. Maybe. Assuredly, the mask we wear or the glitter that sparkles may only be a façade before us. As Tolkien notes, and Paul warns, to ensure that what we are drawn to is of real substance, and before it’s too late, we must discover the character that drives the charisma. If we don’t, we’ll may find that we are nothing more than prey for the wolf beneath the sheepskin.

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

The Why

Every year Heartland Hospice conducts a “Why” campaign. Material is produced. Education is provided. Buttons with the question, “Ask me about my Why” are worn. Personal testimonies that led to service in the hospice profession are encouraged. Out of those stories a common theme emerges. A nurse or nurses’ aid often have cared for a loved one at life’s end like a parent or grandparent. So moved by their experience, they devote themselves to caring for others traveling on that part of life’s journey.

My own journey into hospice chaplaincy had no profound “why” moment, as I never intended to segue from the pulpit to another ministry. At least not till I was seeking a post-retirement ministry. But life shifts, and with the stress of church work in the context of political toxicity exploited by navigating through COVID, the door on fulltime pulpit preaching closed. And as I was piloting uncharted waters, a friend sent me a link to Heartland Hospice who was looking to add another chaplain to their team. Within a couple of weeks of redesigning a resume, posting it on the link, and interviewing, I found a new, and hopefully final, profession. Hospice Chaplain.

Within a couple of years of making visits, phone calls, and sitting with families while loved ones passed, my “Why” began to materialize. Though not as explicit as others, the purpose was discovered through the interaction with those facing end of life realities. Having the privilege of sharing such intimacy, I found purpose in walking with the patients and families as we made this final journey together, ensuring along the way that God’s comforting presence is felt. Sometimes that journey has been filled with more joy than sorrow, while other times the sorrow overwhelms the joy. Either way, providing spiritual support through the journey has solidified my purpose for hospice ministry. My “Why,” and the motivation to show up for work every day, is to act as a fellow companion with a patient or family offering hope as they face their end-of-life journey.

Paul’s conversion story played a significant role in his “Why.” While on the road to Damascus, where he was seeking to arrest followers of Jesus, he was confronted by the one whom he was persecuting. Experiencing the resurrected Christ (Act. 9:4), he pivoted from being the greatest threat to the Church to being its greatest advocate. While the encounter began to shape his character, it was not the only source of motivation for his ministry. Something else was in play.

As Paul was fleshing out the temporal and frailty of life in 2 Corinthians 5, and how our goal in life is to please God, he offers a sobering reminder for the deeper “Why” in his ministry. At one point in the future, he says all of us will assemble before the throne room of Jesus where we will appear before his judgment seat (5:10). The “judgment seat” is a raised platform where the throne of a king is positioned. If standing before a king is not intimidating enough, towering above his subjects only creates more fear and trepidation. And that is intentional.

The story is told of a professor who held an open-door policy for students to challenge the grades he assigned. The catch was when they entered his office, he offered to let them sit on a soft cushioned couch. While they sank in the sofa, he towered over them while leaning against his desk. It was a gentle power move which intimidated his students who often backed down from any complaint they had about his grading.

Cile and I once had a similar experience. In a “meet-and-greet” Sunday afternoon where I was interviewing at a church, a couple came to spend time with us. He was one of the deacons, and out of the goodness of his heart, he offered us the better seating. We sat on a soft comfortable couch. And it was comfortable. We spent over an hour sharing dreams of that church and the potential it had. Overall, the visit was enjoyable, except for one small detail. He was a big man, and whoever sat on the couch sunk in the cushions. We spent the time looking up to a man who, though was a gentle giant, his presence overwhelmed us. Yea, we felt intimated. We laughed about it later, but we were not laughing at that moment.

If we can be intimidated so easily by a big man on a chair, or a professor in his office, how much more intimidating is it for a King, or in this case the King, to position himself on a throne built on elevated steps. In his entire majesty, he looks down on those brought before him to grant approval or disapproval. Yes, very intimating moment indeed.

Within this judgment seat imagery, Paul includes two phrases that are easily missed but carry heavy weight. First, while the apostle writes to the church, he is inclusive of who will stand before the judgment seat. “All must appear,” he says. “All” does not divide groups into believers or non-believers, saved and unsaved, or faithful and unfaithful. The ease to point fingers by saying “They will be held accountable” but “we won’t be” fails to comprehend the message of 2 Corinthians. By now, enough of the pot has been stirred in that church, the divisiveness and attacks against Paul, that he must remind them that no one is exempt from the judgment seat. Not even himself.

Secondly, at the judgement seat, we will receive what we rightly deserve. Accountability will be upheld. No favoritism. No loopholes. No more appeals. No chance to corrupt the judge. Talking our way out of a hole or threatening retaliation will be useless. Instead, we will be righteously adjudicated. God will look over our lives and evaluate what we have done, the good and the bad. By focusing on what we have done, Paul bypasses thoughts or motives. Here, God is not interested in our theology or our doctrine but driven by our actions possibly born out of our theology and doctrine.

The good that we do will be applauded. Nothing is more satisfying than the opportunity of seeing a warm smile break across God’s face, while hearing him refer to us as his “good and faithful servant” (Mt. 25:21). Knowing God loves the good we do drives us to continue doing “more good,” which brings honor to him. On the other hand, facing God, while he outlines all the “bad” we’ve done, is a fearful moment of trepidation.

At this point the ease of pivoting to a fearful exploration of hell might be made without resistance. It’s not, but some might make that shift. Many often do as their message is seeded by fear mongering. Far too common to find congregants being motivated in discipleship that has been driven more by fear than by faith. Fear of the culture. Fear of our neighbors. Fear of other denominations. Fear of the government. Fear of not following every commandment God listed. Fear that one will miss out on salvation because, though they clicked “I agree,” they failed to actually read the “Terms and Conditions” for salvation. The irony is that fear, instead of faith, tends to permeate throughout the messaging of those claiming faith.

The biggest use of fear is the image of the fires of hell as an eternity of never-ending torturous punishment, which hovers over any discussion of Judgment Day. Turning up the thermostat is almost a prerequisite to preaching, and preachers seem to thrive on the heat. Fear does bring positive results, and at best, they are short lived. The long-term effects are detrimental to spiritual health. Using fear has proven to be a poor tool of motivation, carrying with it unwanted guilt and shame. Dangling people over the flames of hell only reinforces the angry God image instead of one who is compassionate and forgiving. Or for 2 Corinthians, a God of all comfort (1:3). At times it almost feels like the saved celebrate the destiny of the unsaved. Almost.

In both 1 & 2 Corinthians Paul is silent on hell or eternal punishment. Of all the churches known for their dysfunction and rebellion, the church in Corinth leads the way. If any church needed a thorough exploration of hell to get them back on the right path, it was Corinth. Yet, Paul neither speaks of hell nor hangs their eternal destiny over them.* Never. Likely, Paul held such an assurance with God and salvation that driven by fear of any kind was beyond his comprehension.

What happens after meeting Jesus at the judgment seat is left unanswered. With the focus now unshackled from the fearful eternal destiny tied to heaven or hell, it’s on the moment of reckoning. We will come face to face with God who will either be pleased or not pleased with what we have done in our lives. For Paul, at least in this passage, that is the farthest he will surmise. He will go to the judgment seat and go no further.

While fear is not Paul’s “Why,” others seem driven by it. Instead, Paul’s “Why” is that he will stand before Jesus to report on all the good and bad he has done, and so will we. What separates Paul is his faith as he anticipates a time when God will praise him for the good he has done. A praise, not as a means to earn salvation, but as an evaluation of what we did with the salvation God gave us.

So out of faith, not fear, we go out and continue to do good. We use our words to uplift, encourage, and support those feeling the weight of the world on their shoulders. We speak hope to the hopeless. We appreciate the smallest of kindness. We buy someone coffee because we know they are facing a difficult day. We mow our neighbor’s lawn because the illness they face keeps them indoors. We give some food to those standing on the corner because it’s the least we can do. We buy extra groceries to give away. And maybe, just maybe, in the end we’ll not only discover our “Why,” but baste in the smile that breaks across God’s approving face.

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

*See 2 Cor. 10:13-15

Like the Encroachment of Kudzu

The 1876 Philadelphia Centennial Exposition was a six-month celebration of the hundredth birthday of the United States. Holding a World’s Fair-like presentation, the Exposition showcased the industrial achievements of America. Nearly ten million visitors were exposed, not only to world-cultures through the eyes of America, but more so to its stories of might and ingenuity. The celebration was nothing less than a success.

During the Exposition, the native Japanese and southeast Chinese plant, Kudzu, was introduced to the West. Touted as a beautiful ornamental plant with its sweet blooms and sturdy vines, the plant became a hot commodity. During the Dust Bowl era, vines were planted throughout the south to prevent soil erosion. Its fast-growing vine, up to a foot a day, took hold of the soil to prevent the dirt from blowing and/or washing away. But its “mile-a-minute” growth rate quickly became known as “the vine that ate the South.” Like most vines, this one began choking out every plant and tree for its domination, destroying all life in its path. While cows will eat Kudzu, no western insect eats the plant. The vine was brought to America without a natural predator to regulate it. Quickly, it got out of control.

With no means to contain the plant, the vine encroached on foreign territory, choking the life out of plants and trees, leaving death in its wake.

As Paul was surveying the church in Corinth, he might have seen the Kudzu in the form of the antagonistic group who came to the church to turn them against the apostle. They had encroached onto the church promising life while choking the heartbeat out of the people. Paul accused them of being self-promoting since they went around “commending themselves” for everything they did (2 Cor. 10:12a). Not only were they bragging about themselves, and ensuring everyone knew their great deeds, but they themselves were the standard by which they measured themselves (v. 12b). Once we become the standard, then no one measures up to our expectations. They don’t serve as much as me. Their listening audience is smaller than mine. Their sin is worse than mine. I’m more dedicated than they are. Like ignoring the speed limit on a highway: anyone traveling faster than me is crazy, while anyone driving slower than me is a nuisance. A standardized measurement no longer exists, leading to a “law of the jungle” mentality. Such is the case when people decide to brag about their faith or ministry while measuring themselves against each other.  

Paul, on the other hand, is willing to boast, but not like his opponents. Paul boasts only within the limits God has provided (v. 13), limits that include the Corinthians. Having invested heavily in the church at Corinth, Paul seeks their best, even at the expense of himself. He brought them the gospel and began nurturing their faith. He lived with them. He worked with them. He spent time with them. He wants desperately to see their faith grow and develop (v. 15), in part so that they can help Paul expand his ministry to other places. Paul wants to brag about the Corinthians, not about himself.

Here is one of the differences between Paul and the antagonists. Paul will not take credit for work completed by others. Oh, they will (v. 15). By encroaching on the territory Paul already established, they will come in and claim it as their own. Like classmates taking credit for an assignment written by someone else, or a coworker pitching a stolen idea to his/her boss, these antagonists were trying to take credit for the work Paul did at Corinth. And we know the endgame: such leaders do not want challenged or questioned and eventually pull away from the very people they are called to shepherd.

Some might think they are jealous of the apostle, though Paul was not jealous of them. He’s willing to share. As he himself once said, he plants, Apollos waters, while God gives the increase (1 Cor. 3:6). They, though, are willing to exercise a hostile takeover of Corinth to fulfill their own passions. Paul will not play such games. He will not take credit for ministries completed by other people and in regions he has not tread (2 Cor. 10:16b). Instead, all boasting will be done in the Lord (v. 17).

Very few of us can say we are staking out new territory. Most of us are building off people who have come before us. As the Deuteronomy author said, “We drink from wells we did not dig” (Dt. 6:11).

When I moved to Minford to preach, I followed a pastor who spent twenty-two years preaching and ministering for this church. Sure, I have my own style and personality and will naturally leave my imprint on the people as my legacy. That said, while I was their preacher, I did what I could to honor and respect his family and ministry, valuing what he had built and knowing his ministry was built on the ones that came before him.

When I arrived at Heartland almost three years ago, I joined a team who was already doing good ministry. Yes, I have my own style and personality which will naturally leave its own imprint on the company, but I, like you, have tried building from what others have constructed without taking credit, and certainly without tearing it down.

We do this because we’re not kudzu encroaching on someone else’s territory.

As Paul is writing these words to Corinth, he has his Bible open to Jeremiah 9:23-24. In that section the prophet is taking the people of Jerusalem to task over what else? Boasting. Jeremiah declares that the wiseman should not boast about his wisdom, or that the strong man boast about his strength, or that the rich man boast about his wealth (Jer. 9:23). Jeremiah takes on the arrogant people who beat their chest and set themselves up as powerful individuals who control or manipulate the masses. Not only are people drawn to such definitions of success, but those in power tend to flaunt what they have. They let you know they are the smartest, strongest, and substantially loaded person in the room. And they care less for the people and more about themselves. For the record, I also know people who excel in each of those categories but are too humble to intimidate or brag. And isn’t that the difference? It’s not having wisdom, strength, or wealth, but how you perceive to use it is the difference.

Jeremiah’s solution does not include stopping the boasting, but to redirect the bragging toward the Lord (9:24). In this form of boasting, Jeremiah gives three descriptive words worthy of boasting regarding God. First, speak about him exercising kindness. Kindness, here, is far more than God performing random acts of kindness as we know it. We think of kindness as maybe holding a door for someone, or helping clean up a mess, or volunteering to help sit with a patient. Kindness here, can also be translated, “loving kindness” or “steadfast love.” Such kind love is the word to describe God’s loyalty to the Covenant he made with Israel. Where Israel broke the terms of the Covenant – from the golden calf to the rebellion in the desert to corruption in Jerusalem at the time of Jeremiah – God never broke his Covenant with Israel. He kept his word. He preserved his promises. He refused to be guilty of breaking his Covenant. That is something worth bragging about.

The second and third descriptive words are found together in the Old Testament like they were best friends. You rarely find them separated from each other. In the New Testament these two concepts are rooted in the same word: justice and righteousness. Sometimes context can help distinguish which one the author is intended. Both terms are relational in nature and rooted in the character of God. Biblical justice is about treating people fairly, regardless of wealth, power, status, or wisdom. One of the reasons God has a heart for the marginalized and the poor is because society will not act with justice. He will, and his desire is for us to as well. The third descriptive word is righteousness, which means a person stands in a right relationship to God who he himself is described as righteous. Sometimes righteousness has a moral and ethical element to it. Other times it has religious piety attached to it. Still other times, it is linked to how people treat the poor and marginalized. Someone like Mother Teresa was a righteous woman, if for no other reasons, she chose to remain in poverty with the people of Calcutta instead of a lucrative position somewhere else. Bragging about a God who treats people the same regardless of stature, wealth, strength, and wisdom is something worth bragging about.

Jeremiah’s point, which Paul picks up, is that if someone is going to boast, then they need to boast about God. And if one is boasting about him/herself, it is likely that they do not know God. They are boasting about what they know. Themselves.

Back to Paul in 2 Corinthians 10, he quotes a portion of Jeremiah 9:24 to drive home this important point. If they are bragging about themselves while taking credit for Paul’s ministry and participating in a hostile takeover of Paul’s God-given territory, then one thing is clear. They don’t know God. Oh, they smell like a pleasing fragrant flower and their blossoms are beautiful to admire. But they are nothing more than a pesky vine that will quickly encroach on the land and choke out everything that lives, leaving spiritual death in its wake.

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

Trees Walking Around: Refocusing Our Blurred Vision of Jesus

“I see people . . . walking around like trees (Mk. 8:24). The blind man’s commentary on his healing was revealing. Nowhere else in the gospel did Jesus come close to a failed moment when someone wanted healing than this blind man of Bethsaida. The act took two takes with the first attempt leaving his eyesight barely improved. Barely.

Much ink has been spilt on this miraculous story trying to explain Jesus’ apparent power failure. But Mark may be using this story (Mk. 8:22-26) as the front end of Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem with a second back end healing of a blind man as Jesus reaches Jericho (Mk. 10:46-52). In other words the two healing stories of blind men hold the journey to Jerusalem in place so that the first blind man can see but still lacks 20/20 vision. The second blind man is able to focus his sights clearly on Jesus. The blind man may very well be representative of the disciples as they grapple with their blurred vision of Jesus. If that is the case, our vision is often just as crippling.

As Mark records the journey to Jerusalem, three teachable moments surface where Jesus clarifies his mission, ministry and mandate. Each of these moments include a prediction of what will unfold when Jesus reaches Jerusalem, followed by the disciple failure to grasp his teaching, concluding with further instructions on discipleship.

The first teachable moment (Mk. 8:31-38) occurs immediately following Peter’s confession in Caesarea Philippi. For the first time in Mark’s gospel Jesus lays out what they will find in Jerusalem. Of course, Peter, refusing to believe that Jesus will suffer at the hands of the Jews, pulls him aside for a rebuke. Yes, Peter rebuked Jesus!? But Jesus will have none of his (so-called) wisdom. Instead, he presents a vision of discipleship that includes cross carrying and sacrificing one’s life.

The second teachable moment (Mk. 9:30-37) appears as they were passing through Galilee. Once again, Jesus wants the Twelve to enter Jerusalem eyes wide opened as he’ll be executed but will be raised three days later. Mark tells us they didn’t understand (v. 32). And in case we needed evidence of their misunderstanding, they began arguing over which disciple was the greatest one. While Jesus is sacrificing his life, the disciples are debating which of them is number one. Jesus refocuses their attention by exhorting them to seek the number two spot. Instead of pursuing their own self-interests, approach life as if you are the least of these. No power. No authority. No sway (Mk. 9:30-37).

The final teachable moment (Mk. 10:21-45) surfaces as they were nearing Jerusalem itself with Jesus leading the way. Here, he outlines the most detailed description of the events about to unfold. Betrayed. Condemned. Mocked. Flogged. Killed. Resurrected. But James and John pull Jesus aside for a personal request of sitting in the place of power and position at his coming kingdom. Not only did he rebuff their request, but he redirected their attention that leadership does not mean lordship. Leadership means servanthood. Jesus came not to be served, but to serve. Thus, we follow his leadership model.

When we latch onto following Jesus but fail to see what discipleship really is, then we’re like the blind man Jesus is trying to heal. We see, but it’s all a blur almost like trees walking around. We operate from a power position. We control people’s movements and actions. We use relationships for personal gain then cast them aside when they no longer aid our agenda. We fight for rights as long as we get something of value from it, and fight as long as it cost us nothing. We mock people we disagree with and demean others who won’t let us have our way. We claim to see Jesus clearer than anyone else, but if the truth be known, we’re no better than the blind man standing by the side of the road needing to be silenced by those hearing our voices.

In order to see Jesus with clarity in vision, discipleship must be defined on his terms not ours. Following him means we’re willing to bear the burden while carrying our cross. We stop seeking to be first as we desire to embrace humility in owning the joy of being number two. Finally, we begin using our position and power to serve the people around us. Once our eyes are checked under these criteria, we’ll begin to see Jesus with clarity. We’ll begin seeing each other with clarity.

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

Unequally Yoked

The Law of Moses was explicit on the care of farm animals, particularly in regard to plowing one’s field. Never yoke an ox and a donkey together (Dt. 22:10). Because the ox is so much bigger and stronger than the donkey, the smaller and weaker animal (proportionally) was at risk to being dragged by the ox. Imagine two football linemen (i.e. Jared McCray and his friend, Joe Anderson) in a tug of war against two cross country runners (think Jonathan & Matthew Partlow). The runners aren’t weak, but we know the outcome of this tug of war. The same with yoking an ox with a donkey; the donkey doesn’t have a chance.

Paul picks up on the imagery of the unequal yoking in 2 Corinthians 6:14-7:1. The principle is straight forward as the apostle links two opposing positions that people mistakenly believe can be yoked: the righteous and the wicked, those in the light and those in darkness, Christ and Satan, believers and unbelievers, and finally the temple of God and the temple of idols (v. 14-16). None of these hold anything in common and all are so diametrically opposed to each other that everyone knows the outcome. It won’t end well.

The center of the passage is verse 17, “Come out from them, and be separate.” The call to come out, from Isaiah 52, is wrapped in hope as God exhorts Israel to make a clean break from Babylon in returning to Jerusalem. Paul picks up on the exhortation for the church to make a clean break from paganism, because if they don’t, the outcome won’t end well.

What Paul says is one thing. How to apply the apostle’s words is another argument completely. Traditionally, this passage has been used, and solely used, to preach against unequally yoked marriages. What happens when a believer marries an unbeliever? It’s a good question as we’ve seen the struggle, and marriage is hard enough without adding one of faith and one without. The problem is, even though these verses can be applied to dating or engaged couples, that this passage says nothing about marriage. The words “courting” or “marriage” or even a reference to Genesis 2 never surfaces in the text.

Another option is that Paul is speaking in generalities, which certainly could include couples. Maybe he has in mind business partners. Assuming that the believer has moral integrity, will the unbeliever cut corners and short change customers giving the believer a bad name? Can someone who is dedicated to a risen Savior make business decisions with a person committed to idolatry? Beyond the business partnership, what about the local guilds? Pagan temple banquet halls were rented for both weddings and guild meetings. Being a member of the guild meant eating meals dedicated to an idol.

But the context of 2 Corinthians says nothing about couples, marriages or business ventures. Paul’s second letter to Corinth was an attempt for them to reconcile with him; the apostle was offering an olive branch to the church. The background to the letter was a group of outsiders infiltrating the church in a hostile takeover of Paul’s ministry and church leadership. They exploited a weakness in the relationship between the church and Paul, creating a chasm where a rift had been present. In derogatory terms, Paul calls this group “super apostles” (2 Cor. 11:5). They prided themselves on their “giftedness” and communication skills (10:1-2,10). They bragged about visions and prophetic experience (12:1-10). They built themselves up while tearing down Paul. They even accused Paul, not only of stealing from the church (11:8-12), but being a weak leader for the church. Paul said they were false apostles, deceptive men masquerading as angels of light (11:13-14).

Paul’s plea to avoid being unequally yoked is far more concerning than simply marriage, though its application to marriage is anything but simple. Uniting two people whose faith and world-view compete instead of complement gives anyone cause to pause. When a person of faith steps into covenant with a non-believer, someone will have to compromise. Unequally yoked relationships bring danger. But the immediate context is when two peoples of faith are unequally yoked. In this instance, one is loyal to the gospel of weakness Paul preaches and the other is loyal to a gospel of strength preached by those who have infiltrated Corinth. If the church in Corinth was going to reconcile with Paul, they had to break the yoke with these false teachers.

Just because someone name drops Jesus, or says a prayer to God, does not mean a wise partnership will be realized between two Christians. If one is going to embrace the gospel preached by Paul, a gospel where strength is expressed through weakness (12:8b) and the other rejects such a gospel, then we already know the outcome. It won’t end well.

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

Abandoning “Three Strike & Out,” while Embracing “One & Done”

Combining images from two different sports is a difficult. Baseball’s “three strikes and out” derives from the pitcher staring down the batter. The options are simple. After four balls (or hit by a pitch), the batter takes first base. If the batter puts the ball in play, he may safely reach base or be thrown out. Or, after three strikes, the batter is out and exits the batter’s box to return to the dugout. The batter is awarded two strikes and as many foul balls as needed. Once the third strike is called, his bat is over, at least for the moment.

On the other hand basketball’s “one and done” is a recent development. Since the NBA has age regulations, potential NBA players must spend at least one year developing their skills at the college level. Under the old rules players had to play three years in college before moving on to the pros, allowing college teams to build a cohesive dynasty. Today, numerous college teams recruit blue-chip players who only want to go pro. They play one year in college before declaring for the draft, thus for a college career, they’re “one and done.”

Finding a connection between “three strikes and out” with “one and done” will not be found in the sporting arena but in the biblical world. No doubt, it will be found in a most unlikely place.

As Moses was delivering the second of three speeches/sermons, as the Israelites were standing in the corridor of the Promised Land. The majority of the Israelites were not part of the Exodus and did not remember receiving the Law at Sinai. The three speeches of Deuteronomy were Moses’ farewell address. He not only reviewed the Law for them but also reinterpreted the Law for a new generation of Israelites embarking on conquering Canaan.

In the middle of the second speech (Dt. 18:14-22) Moses begins talking about prophets. He references a coming prophet who will be like him (Dt. 18:15a), with the call to “listen to him” echoing through the ages (18:15b), making the Christian reader think of Jesus’ transfiguration (Mt. 17:5; Mk. 9:7; Lk. 9:35).   

Then Moses pivots and gives a warning about the false prophets who will rise up in Israel. He knows they’re coming and he wants safeguards in place to protect his flock from being led astray. The simple distinction between a true prophet and a false prophet is the outcome of their prophecy. If the prophet predicts destruction and it fails to happen, he/she is a liar. If the prophet foresees success only to find devastation, he/she is a charlatan (Dt. 18:21-22). The severity of falsely predicting events is swift and sure. Instead of entertaining the prophet, Moses is intolerant of their fear-mongering. No “three strikes and out,” they’re given a “one and done” opportunity. One lie is the limit. The reaction is simple. In an attempt to keep them from leading Israel astray, put that false prophets to death (Dt. 18:20b).

Jesus assures us that false prophets are part of the system in a fallen world (see Mk. 13:5-8). They’ve been here before and they’ll be here again. They’re ongoing presence, though, does not mean we have to listen to them. We listen to Jesus. The key is not that they’re simply wrong in their prediction, but that they evoke God’s name in the process, claiming that God has revealed the future to them. So when we find their God-given prediction wrong, we cut the relationship strings. We silence their voices.

In my adult life these “prophets” have been plenty. In the summer of 1987 a group of people, invoking God’s name, claimed that Jesus was returning that year. He didn’t. They moved the goal posts to a future date only for that day to come and go like any other day. Yet the group seemingly lost no credibility. Or, on the threshold of the turn of the century, the rage was the Y2K scare. Granted, the question about computers being able to calculate the year “2000” was a good question to ask. However, some religious leaders exploited the fear, and representing God to the world, foresaw a world-wide financial crisis and meltdown. When life went on as usual, those religious leaders lost no credibility as people continued listening to them. Or, a televangelist blows the “Spirit of God” on the camera, like he’s blowing on you through the TV screen, claiming COVID is over and defeated only for it to claim over 300,000 more American lives, should raise serious credibility questions, but it doesn’t. Such behavior reeks of an opportunist seeking fame and fortune as people still tune in like they were sheep without a shepherd.

The list of blatant false prophets is far longer than a single scroll containing the words of Scripture, for as the Hebrews’ writer says, “I do not have the time to tell about . . . “ (Heb. 11:32b). We don’t have the time.

So when church leaders rise and begin invoking God’s name to predict what never unfolds, it’s time for the church to step up. In order to avoid being manipulated, let’s stop playing by the baseball rules and start embracing basketball rule. For it’s not our tolerance at stake, it’s God’s credibility.

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

Follow Me, Boys!

The Beagle Scouts were a common thread Schulz wove into his daily strips. Snoopy was the Scoutmaster who led Woodstock, Conrad, Bill, and Oliver on numerous adventurous hikes. They camped out, roasted marshmallows, and learned about nature. While the group began as a “boys only” organization, they eventually let Harriet join the group because of her famous angel food cake with seven minute icing. 

When Schulz introduced the Beagle Scouts, he was not only offering a parody of the Boys Scouts, but he clearly had a competence tone in mind. In that first panel Lucy couldn’t believe Snoopy was involved with scouting. She asked, “What kind of scout are you,” then followed it up by a scathing commentary, adding, “You don’t know anything about scouting!”  Snoopy smiled and responded, “I’m a Tenderpaw.” (Boy Scouts get the obvious pun). 

I don’t believe Snoopy really knew a lot about scouting either. He did offer sound advice like, “The first rule of course is always follow your leader,” and “stay together because we’re a team.” However, his “troop” never quite understood scouting, like the time they built their campfire out of their own (wooden) tent pegs, or the time Snoopy corrected Oliver over the proper response to roll call when he said, “No Oliver. You do not say ‘When the Roll Is Call Up Yonder, I’ll Be There.’” 

I see a lot of myself in Snoopy’s leadership. When I joined the Boy Scouts leadership, I knew nothing about camping. I didn’t know how to set up a tent. I didn’t know how to tie a knot.  I didn’t know, and still cannot recite the Scout Law or Oath. A group of boys were placed under the care of my inadequate leadership. In many ways I learned as they learned, and I learned from them as much as they learned from me. While today, I do know how to set up a tent and stay warm in cold weather, I never did quite master the Scout Law and Oath, and I still hadn’t a clue about tying knots.

Fred MacMurray stared in the 1966 Disney movie, Follow Me, Boys! After spending time on the road with a band, McMurray decided to settle down in a small town. In order to win the favor of a local girl, he started a Boy Scout troop, and he knew about as much as scouting as I did; his inability to ties knots becomes a running gag in the movie. In the end, McMurray builds a successful Scout Troop, not because of what he knows, but because he was passionate about Scouting, and believed in the boys he was leading. More than what he taught the boys, he modeled daily living for the boys who needed a male presence and leadership in their lives. 

On numerous occasions the apostle Paul called for his churches to follow him, because he was following Jesus (1 Cor. 4:16; 11:1; Phil. 3:17; 4:9; 1 Thess. 1:6; 2 Thess. 3:7,9). The words can sound like an ego-centric person, or someone whose pride has distorted what it means to live a life of faith. Certainly, some of the so-called “Christian Leaders” we find today are so concerned with gaining their own fame and following that they forget they’re primary responsibility is to point those followers to Jesus. Paul’s statement to follow him is only in light of how well he himself is following Jesus, “Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1).

Concerning biblical leadership, two points of interest are worth highlighting. First, to be a good leader doesn’t mean you have all the answers, but it does mean you’re willing to find the answers. As one person said, “It’s not what you know that matters, but who you know, or how much you care.” Good leaders have the right people around them, who offer sound/healthy advice, wisdom, and keep the leader accountable to his/her own actions. Simply put, you don’t have to know how to tie a bow-line knot, but you can say, “We can learn this together.” 

This brings us to the second point of biblical leadership. You must model something about Jesus in your life for people to see. When Paul says to “follow me because I follow Jesus,” then there must be something concrete about Paul’s discipleship of Jesus for the church to see. Did they see his compassion, his forgiveness, his love, his joy? If 1 Corinthians 11:1 is a summary statement for the previous section in chapters 8-10, then his leadership example is about giving up his freedoms or rights for the good of others. (By the way, I like Peter’s generalized statement to elders. They have the authority to model the Christian faith [1 Pet. 5:3]. Leadership is less about power and control and more about showing what Jesus is supposed to look like in each other.) 

Snoopy may not have been the best Beagle Scout, but we’ll give him a pass because he’s Snoopy. However, no one can doubt that his motive was pure, and that he cared about his followers. Ultimately, isn’t the level of compassion and concern you have for those under your care the real mark of great leadership? 

bonum dolar!
(i.e., good grief!)

Shepherding the Flock

On two occasions and by two Apostles, the Bible exhorts its leaders to “Shepherd God’s flock” (Act. 20:28; 1 Pet. 5:2). In Acts 20 Paul meets with the Ephesus elders knowing it will probably be his last chance to see them. While he hints at mutual submission, he cradles his exhortation as a reminder that elders shepherd the entire flock of God, which he states was purchased by Christ’s blood. Peter, on the other hand, when he makes the same exhortation, is checking motive. He wants to make sure that elders are shepherding for the right reasons; nothing worse than someone shepherding whose only concern is themselves or a select few people. 

Lynn Anderson, in his book, They Smell Like Sheep, gives a brief definition of a shepherd as anyone who has a flock. For instance, a parent who has children is a shepherd.  A Coach who has players is a shepherd. A teacher who has students is a shepherd.  A Scoutmaster who has a troop is a shepherd. Of course an elder(s) who has church members is a shepherd. 

When looking at the role of an elder in church, and the charge that both Peter and Paul gave the leaders, the imagery is profound. One must ask what it means to shepherd. Rooting the image in the Ancient Near East/First Century, I can think of four responsibilities of the shepherd. 

  • Feed the Flock > the shepherd leads the flock to places where fresh water and green grass is in plenty (Ps. 23:2). A bad shepherd is unconcerned that the water is dirty or the grass is brown or barren. Shepherding God’s flock ensures that the church is being fed healthfully from God’s word, by having a stake in who is preaching, or feeding oneself enough so that they are capable of feeding the flock whenever called upon. 
  • Protect the Flock from Predators > wolves, bears, and lions need to be chased off or killed less they destroy the flock (1 Sam. 17:34-36). Raiders or thieves pillaging flocks must be fought off (Ps. 23:4; Jn. 10:10), and the flock must be defended. Of course bad shepherds or hired hands run in the face of danger, or sit by watching the flock being torn apart. Elders must protect the flock as not everyone who enters the fold is a sheep; some are predators and some of those look like they’re dressed as sheep but are intent to destroy the flock. 
  • Provide a Healing Touch > when sheep gets sick, attacked or cut by briars, the responsibility of the shepherd is to nurse the sheep back to health (Ps. 23:5b). Often times the healing involved pouring olive oil on the wound, cleansing it from an infection (mind you, wounded animals may fight the shepherd who is trying to bring healing). A bad shepherd will allow the wound to fester and infect the animal, or not realize an animal under his care has been attacked, or quit helping when the animal fights back. Elders, as fellow-wounded shepherds, counsel the wounded and assist in the healing process, and many times when bringing healing are accused of being part of the pain. 
  • Seek Lost Lambs > when sheep go astray, the shepherd seeks to find and locate the animal; certainly there is monetary motivation for losing even one from the flock. Jesus talks about the shepherd leaving the 99 behind in search of the one (Lk. 15:4), as if it was common practice. A bad shepherd cares less about one insignificant sheep and takes a loss. Elders are concerned about the people in the congregation so that when someone starts “missing,” they begin the process of finding out where they are, and then leads them back to the flock. 

The role of the elder is complicated and filled with unbearable heartaches and decisions as salvation stands in the balance. In reality, shepherding the church flock looks more like herding cats than it does leading sheep, and most churches fail to appreciate the leadership before them. Shepherding, like any other ministry, is filled with failure (didn’t the Good Shepherd lose one of his own?). So shepherds find the grace, not in the realm of perfection, but when one is simply doing what God called them to do. Shepherd the flock.                                       

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