A Different God

Yesterday, we asked - but what if I don't want to go to the Father? What if I want to choose a different God?

You can. The Lord gives humans the freedom to choose, but if you're looking for a "different" god, there is none more different than the Lord Almighty. He is truly unlike any other God. 

The Lord created the world for the purpose of walking in it with His creation; there is no other creation story that suggests anything close to this. In fact, most god stories use the world for either warfare or punishment. 

The Lord loves the world He created; the other gods seem to tolerate the world, at best, and they use it as a place to release their emotional energies, for good or for bad. In many cases, the other gods use the world as a trophy, as a prize for whatever game they are playing in their god-realm. And let's say it again - the Lord's "god-realm" is the world; He wants to be here. 

The Lord loves us; He loves us so much that He sent His Son as a sacrifice so that we didn't have to spend our entire lives trying to appease Him, as the other gods demand. The other gods are constantly judging our performance, always changing their behavior based on a whim. God's posture toward us has always been love. 

As a reminder, I'm using the word "god" here, but what we're really talking about is any sort of worldview that attempts to account for the existence of the world as we know it. That means, yes, I'm talking about science, too. The science myths have nothing on the creation story of the Lord Almighty. 

And all of these things that we're talking about that set God apart, these are matters of truth - a truth that the world has trouble trusting because it doesn't understand what truth is any more. 

But that's precisely why we have to keep declaring it. 

When we declare the truth of the Christian faith, it is an absolute truth in a post-truth world. I get it. The world doesn't seem to care. It doesn't want to hear it. But that's not entirely true. 

The world doesn't want to hear the biblical truth; they want to hear the Gospel truth. Whatever aversion the world may claim to have to Christ and Christianity, they still actually love a story about redemption and grace and love. And so when we think about what it means to declare the truth of our faith, we have to start with the Gospel truth - the truth that reveals the loving, merciful, gracious heart of God...not by tolerance and whatever else the world thinks "love" is these days, but in the creation and foundation of the world itself, which is rooted in the very heart of God. 

There's an old saying that says no one cares how much you know until they know how much you care, and this is true about the Christian faith as well - nobody cares about coming to the Father (i.e. heaven or hell) until they know how much the Father loves them. And this is the truth that we're not talking about enough. This is the truth that we're not putting at the center of our discussions enough. 

We're out there trying to tell others they have to choose God because they don't want to go to Hell and He will send them there...what kind of God is that that someone should love Him? No wonder the world is turning away. 

But what if we tell them about the foundation of all things, the voice that speaks into the formless and void so that He has a place to walk with His creation in the cool of the garden? There's a God I want to go to - the One who wants to come to me. 

There's plenty of truth about God that even a post-truth world is interested in. We just have to recognize it and start to speak it.

Because it is this truth that makes our God the "different kind of god" the world really is looking for.   

To the Father

As I wrote the last words of yesterday's blog, a thought came into my mind, and I think it's important to take this little detour. 

Jesus said no one comes to the Father except through Him, and I can almost hear the world saying, "What if I don't want to go to the Father?" 

Seems simple enough, right? If the world doesn't care about our heaven, about eternal life, about the goodness of God and doesn't want any part of it, then the message of Jesus doesn't matter, does it?

And let's be clear about something else - God doesn't say these other gods that we read about in the Bible don't exist. Paul doesn't even tell the Romans the gods they are worshiping in the areopagus are fake. Rather, the consistent message is that they aren't good gods. The Lord Almighty is a good, loving, benevolent, powerful God and there is no other god like Him. 

But there are other gods. 

These other gods all have their own stories and their own promises. There are promises of reincarnation and a billion life cycles to attain Nirvana. There are promises of escaping this world and no longer being bound by it. There are promises of thousands of virgins. The god of science promises blissful, simple non-existence - that you just die and that's it. Nothing more. There are as many different promises as there are gods, and if that's the god you want to believe in, that's the promise you get. 

So if someone says they aren't interested in the promise of the Lord God - what if I don't want to go to the Father? - then what's the Gospel answer to that? 

The simple answer is to say that they get to go to Hell. That the other gods may have offers on the table, but the Lord Almighty is Almighty Indeed and His promise trumps every other one, to the point that if He determines to send you to Hell, you're going. Whether you believe in Him or not. 

That's the answer that Christians have given for a long time. It's the answer that makes the world bristle. The problem with that answer, though, is that it brings us back to the question about truth...and a world that isn't interested in truth. 

How can God claim to have the only possible truth - especially when His truth doesn't look as plain and obvious as, say, science? 

The world struggles to believe that there is a God so powerful, a truth so real, that they will actually go to Hell if they don't believe it. They struggle to believe there even is a place such a Hell (which is really a state of being more than an actual physical location, I believe). They struggle to believe there could be a truth that exists outside of their believing in it - if they don't believe it, can it even be real? 

If I don't want to go to the Father, then what legitimate power does the so-called Father have over me that He could send me to some so-called Hell? 

And that is precisely why getting the truth part of the Gospel right - and not shying away from it - is so important. 

Because our God truly is unlike any other. 

The Gospel Truth

To start talking about the Gospel as truth in a post-truth world, we have to understand that the problem with the Gospel isn't new. That is, the Gospel truth was always offensive to the world. That's what got our Savior killed. 

That's what got the masses chasing Him, trying to throw Him off a cliff. That's what got the Pharisees sitting around, scheming up a way to get rid of Him. That's what got the Roman guards to march Him out to a hill called Golgotha and crucify the Son of God. None of that happened because these persons didn't like - even love - God; it happened because the message of Christ - the truth that He lived - was offensive. 

It did not get better after His death, and certainly, not after His resurrection. 

And yet, this is the first thing the world tells us today - that we can't talk about Jesus or present the Gospel truth because it's "offensive." 

It's offensive for a few reasons. 

The first is that we don't like anyone telling us that our good is not good enough. As I've mentioned several times in this space, most of us consider ourselves better than average when it comes to goodness (and of course, mathematically, it is impossible for that to be true). The Gospel truth says that we are all sinners and there is not one of us righteous, not even one, but in a world in which we are all convinced that we are fundamentally good persons, being told that we are not is offensive. 

The second is closely related to the first - we don't like being told that we can't save ourselves. In our highly-individualistic culture, we have been given reason to believe that we are our own savior. Our lives are in our own control, and we make of them whatever we want them to be by our own hard work and investment. This is even more true in a post-truth world where we're allowed to tell whatever story we want about our life and expect, even demand, others to buy into it. No matter how ridiculous. If they don't, they are obviously full of "hate" and are the reason the world sucks. (Christianity tells us the world sucks because we are all sinners, every one of us. But I digress.) 

The third spins off of that - we don't like that, if we aren't our own Savior, that there might be another one. Nobody's going to tell us what to do. Nobody's going to make us buy into their little story, their little myth that they believe in to make themselves feel better. 

Interesting note: for as often as the world protests against religion and declares, "Nobody's going to tell me what to believe!" it's funny to see how quickly they believe whatever the thing they do believe in tells them, whether that be science or media or politics or whatever. Someone is telling you what to believe, no matter who you are; the only question is, who are you letting tell you what to believe? 

But what's most offensive, and at the root of all of this, is that the Gospel truth declares an exclusivity - an absoluteness to its truth that the world just can't swallow any more. 

Jesus is the only way? That seems really "hateful." Maybe even "racist." It certainly seems "elitist." And, the world says, it doesn't mesh with the image of the all-accepting, all-loving, all-welcoming Jesus who ate with sinners and washed the feet of His disciples and talked to a Samaritan woman. This Jesus that we preach as so radical could not possibly also be so dogmatic as to claim an exclusivity to the Christian faith - that it could be the only way. 

What about everyone else in the world, created in the image of God (whether they believe that or not) who doesn't believe in Him? Is He really just going to send them to Hell? Not much of a "loving" God. 

That's really how the world has turned so many Christians away from the Gospel truth and toward a more liberal embrace of tolerance masked as grace. They've told us that our Jesus can't be loving and exclusive, and we have essentially said - okay, He is loving. And we push aside the truth that He spoke, which was in no uncertain terms. 

I Am the way, the truth and the life. NO ONE comes to the Father except through me. 

So what now? 

A Post-Truth World

We left off last week talking about the truth of Christianity, in companionship with its grace. This was one of the criticisms leveled at the "He gets us" ads on television - that they were too much grace/acceptance and not enough Gospel truth. 

And I said that living in a post-truth world, it's...complicated. The Gospel truth is complicated today in ways that it wasn't as complicated previously. 

I guess the place to start is to talk about what I mean when I say that the world today is post-truth. 

Here's what I mean: 

Our greatest fights today are over what truth actually is. What "the" truth is. We are wrestling with a culture that is hesitant to definitively define anything, where truth is whatever you claim it to be, and where authorities are questioned in a way that they weren't for much of human history. 

If you look at the headlines, especially in politics, you'll see that we aren't a people who talk about policy and common good any more; we're too busy trying to find a starting point for conversation. And that starting point is truth. 

See, we can't talk about anything, as human beings, unless we have a mutual, agreed-upon starting point for the conversation. Want to talk politics? Maybe you think it's easy to start by saying that Joe Biden is the current president. But then come the accusations that the elections were stolen, our democracy is a sham, and his presidency is illegitimate. We can't have a conversation about politics if we do not fundamentally agree that the process is trustworthy - i.e. a true process. 

Want to have a conversation about gender roles or the worth of a woman in the marketplace (that women should receive the same pay as men for the same work, let's say)? Well, we can't. Because we first have to define what a "woman" is and our current culture doesn't have a definitive definition. Rather, everyone is allowed to define for themselves what being a man or a woman means to them and the rest of the world is expected to go along with it. So we have biological males who believe the "truth" is that they are women (and biological women who believe the "truth" is that they are men), and we can't have a conversation about women in the workplace because there's no agreement on what a woman is. 

We hear a lot about minorities, but who is a minority? How does one become a minority? Is it statistical? Is it social? You may say the minority is the group whose power is taken away by another group or is the group that is the victim of oppression by another group, but...that's all perspective. There are many folk who are seen as the majority by others who feel like the minority because of the way the perceived minority treats them. So who's right? In a post-truth world, they both are. 

Language is used as a weapon here. Whoever shouts the loudest usually wins. If you can get the most voices in your side, then your side must be "truth." Truth, as a concept, has become a matter of popular opinion - whatever most persons buy into is the "truth" that we must live by. 

Here's another recent example: (and yes, I know I'm ruffling feathers. Truth does that) In 2020 when the pandemic was newly upon us, the experts in the medical field - not the political talking heads, although they agreed, but the real experts - said that research showed that cloth masks would be ineffective in limiting the spread of the virus. There was massive public outcry because most of us felt like we needed to do something besides just sit idly by and wait for our grandmothers to die, so after a ton of pushback from the public, they changed the message - wearing a mask will help. The science didn't change, but the "truth" changed somehow. Those who held onto the science, the documented research and decades upon decades of evidence were called conspiracy theorists, at best; at worst, they were told they were selfish and hated everyone else's grandmothers and that the deaths were their fault. Language was being used to force compliance with an asserted, but not proven, "truth." (For what it's worth, more studies came out a year or so ago showing, again, that our masks did not make a difference and were ineffective, but during the most recent surge, there were still many crying out for new mask mandates...and the news barely covered the new reports showing their ineffectiveness.) 

But that's where we're at - truth is whatever the masses say it is. No longer are we a people who listen to reason, who look at the evidence, who believe what we see, who believe those who have invested their lives in things we haven't even thought about before; we are a people coerced by the noise into compliance, and truth has become a construct, not a given. 

So what does that do to the Gospel? 

Cannibals

Jesus said, "Take this and eat, for this is my body." Then, He poured the wine and said, "And this, and drink, for this is my blood." 

And the world looked at the Christians and asked...are you cannibals?

This was a very real criticism that Christians faced very early on, and from time to time since then. We talk about Communion, and we talk about the body and the blood of Christ in the emblems, and this doesn't make sense to the world. What does it mean that we are eating our God? 

But of course, we know that that's not really it. None of us thinks that we are actually eating the real flesh or drinking the real blood of Christ; we understand it as a metaphor for accepting the sacrifice that He offered on our behalf, the death He suffered for us. We take this meal and eat because for us, it it the bread of Heaven and the gift of salvation in tangible, taste-able form. It's a way to remember. 

As I think about this criticism, though - that we are cannibals - I think there's an easier way to explain what's happening to a world that doesn't understand substitutionary atonement. A way that doesn't require a depth of theological thinking. A way that might help them understand what's happening at the Table. 

In the beginning, God created man in His image. He stooped down and formed man in the dust, then breathed into him the very Spirit of God. The very substance of our being is holy. 

And the blood and the body of Christ, in the emblems, is holy. 

The taking of the emblems keeps us connected to our substance, keeps us growing in holiness and holy things. 

So essentially, what I'm saying is - we are essentially emotionally-complicated sourdough starters. 

That's why the bread is unleavened. That's why there's no yeast in it. That's why God warned His people in the Old Testament about yeast and Jesus warned His disciples, too. We have to be careful about the things that we let grow us. 

And it's the unleavened bread of the sacrifice of Christ that grows us the most. This body, this blood - this bread, this juice - it is the yeast. It's the thing that we keep turning over and over and kneading and knotting and growing from. Every time. 

We're not cannibals, eating the flesh and drinking the blood of another human being; we are sourdough starters, being fed by the very substance of which we were created, growing Christward every time we feast around this table. 

Let us be fed.  

An Incomplete Truth

Another criticism of the "He gets us" big football game ads was that they didn't go far enough in presenting the message of Christ. They weren't holistic. They didn't get everything exactly right in all its complicatedness. 

Specifically, one of the criticisms is that the ads "only" showed Jesus loving persons. 

On the surface, that seems strange. And there are more layers of complaint that talk about what kinds of persons the ads specifically showed Jesus loving - those who think it was too diverse, too slanted in one direction over another, not diverse enough, not realistic, whatever. For example, one of the ads showed an entire series of the washing of feet, and there were voices that came out and said, wait a minute. Can we talk about these persons for a second?

This draws us back into the grace vs. truth debate, which is as old as Christianity itself. Are we loving or speaking truth? Are we doing both? Are we doing one more than the other?

Really, though, a lot of this boils down to the pushback against the "new" definition of Christ that's gaining traction in more liberal branches of Christianity, pushed by the world - that Jesus loves everyone indiscriminately and doesn't require anything from you for His love. 

It's...a half-truth. Kinda. 

It's true that Jesus loves you. Just the way you are. It's true that He came, lived, died, and rose again for you while you're still broken, while you're still rebellious, while you're still a sinner. It's true that there's not anything that you have to do to obtain the love of God; God is love, and He loves you. 

But it's not true that He doesn't want you to change. That's true no matter who you are, what you believe, how good you think you are, what good works you do. There's not a single example that we have anywhere in all of Scripture where either God or Christ comes to a human being and says, "Don't change a thing. You're perfect just the way you are."

Not a single one. 

God always wants us to grow. He always wants us to change. He's always pushing us to be more loving, more gracious, more merciful, more just, more righteous, more right-hearted, more faithful, more true. He's always calling us to come closer to Him, and when we come closer to Him, we necessarily change more and more into His likeness - the image we were created in in the first place. 

God's not interested in anyone who is not willing to grow. So the idea that you can be who you are and stay as you are and earn God's full and wholehearted approval is a lie. We'll just call it what it is - it's a lie. No, He won't love you less if you don't change, but we can't pretend that God's love is the same as God's approval. 

There is none among us righteous, no, not one. 

So the criticism that the commercials didn't go far enough in presenting truth next to love do have some merit. They leave in the air the possibility that one might come to the same conclusions about Jesus that liberal Christianity has been trying to push - namely, that He has no standards when it comes to human beings. He just loves and is happy with everyone just the way things are. 

At the same time, we have to realize that the truth part of the Christian faith is...really complicated in a post-truth world. 

(To be continued)

The Great Commission

So let's pick up the biggest elephant in the room as we talk about the Jesus commercials at the recent big football game - the fact that there was a message about Jesus at all. 

We live in an age when the world gets angry about Jesus "being shoved down our throats," when the world tells us, gosh, we don't have to talk about Him all the time. Any mention of Jesus by name gets a great big eye roll and the ears seem to shut. Then, the mouths open. 

If you really loved Jesus that much, you'd live more like Him. If you really loved Jesus that much, you'd spend your time and resources helping the poor. If you really loved Jesus that much, you'd affirm everyone else and love them the way that Jesus loved them. If you really loved Jesus that much, you'd know He doesn't care about attendance at church at a specific hour on a specific day. If you really loved Jesus that much...

Anything at all to get us to stop talking about Jesus. 

But there are two considerations we have to make when we come upon this kind of argument. 

First, there are plenty of good folks in this world who are doing good things for marginalized groups but who don't love Jesus. And the truth is that when you hear about good works being done in the world, very rarely does anyone think it's because the person doing them loves Jesus. Rather, everyone just assumes it's because that person is a "good" person. (And, by the way, almost all of us think we are "good" persons.) In fact, when we see these good deeds being done, we don't turn to church; instead, we turn to ourselves and try to inspire ourselves to be better persons....because we're good, but we're not that good. So the idea that Christians can spread the message of Christ just by doing good works in the world is completely bogus. It's nothing but the world's attempt to continue replacing the message of Christ with the message of humanism - look at all of these "good" humans. 

Second, Jesus was very clear with His disciples what He wanted them to do - go, make disciples. And the Bible follows this up by telling us, how will they ever know if no one ever tells them and how will anyone ever tell them if no one is ever sent and how will anyone ever be sent unless they actually go? Blessed are the feet of those not that feed the poor, shelter the homeless, visit the prisoner, welcome the stranger. No. Blessed are the feet of those who bring the Good News - the Gospel. The story about Jesus. 

And bringing Jesus's story requires telling Jesus's story. And telling Jesus's story requires saying His name.

There's no other way to do it. 

Ours is a mission much like that among the first disciples. Remember when Nathanael was called? He came to the words, "Come and see." Come and see a Man who is the Messiah we've been waiting for. Remember the woman at the well? She ran into the town and said, "Come and see a Man who told me everything I've ever done." Not one person met Jesus and went out into the world just to do good works in the hopes that someone else might put the pieces together and figure out they had been with Him. 

Every person who met Jesus went away talking about Him. Telling others about Him. Trying to get others to come and meet Him. 

That is our mission. 

Yes, we do the good works, too. Faith without works is dead, and the love of Jesus needs the flesh of the faithful. But the good works are not enough. The good works do not tell the story of the Gospel; we have to do that. So let us do that. 

Say His name. 

Put Him on the big screen. 

Tell His story. 

Bring the Good News. 

Sinners

One of the other loud criticisms of the Jesus commercials is the outcry over the funding behind them. While the average viewer probably doesn't know who is behind the commercials, as they claim absolutely no credit for themselves, many in the church have done the digging to link the ads to a nonprofit that has members of Hobby Lobby's executive team on its board. 

Whew. Glad we sorted that out. 

They then use this information to say that this is not the type of person that should be representing Christianity to the world, even if the ad is getting it right. This is not the type of person we want the world to be able to trace the Jesus message back to. This is a person on the "wrong side" of, particularly, the new liberal Christianity that's trying desperately to get into the world's good graces, and heaven forbid someone like this talk about Jesus in public! This type of person is exactly the reason Christianity has a bad name. (So they say.) 

Forgive me, but I'm just going to say it:

The only humans who have ever spread the message of Christ were sinners. All of them. Every single one. 

The disciples were sinners. Adam was a sinner. Noah was a sinner. Abraham was a sinner. David was the sinner of all sinners. Paul claims his own sins unashamedly (so that he can boast in the good grace of God).

There is not one word about the Lord that anyone has ever heard from the mouth of a human being that was not spoken by a sinner. And our culture that is so intent on cancelling anyone who has ever uttered anything not completely, thoroughly politically correct or who has ever had a lapse of judgment in behavior...this very same culture would cancel every single character in our Bible. (And, if you pay attention, they're trying to. They call it "textual criticism" and snuck it into academia and from there, into the church, so that they can craft the message that really, you can't trust the Bible. Just look at the fools who wrote it...or pretended to write it...or get credit for writing it even though they didn't. Whatever.) 

And, by the way, even these holier-than-thou folks who claim to try to be protecting the message of Christ by condemning it because of who is behind it...yeah, they're sinners, too. Every single one of them. These guys who spend their lives "calling out" other Christians for getting it wrong? They are getting some things wrong, too. 

They will tell you that the things they're getting wrong are not nearly as "serious" as the things others are getting wrong, others that they are calling out. What's funny is that often, they are calling others out for having too much of an emphasis on one thing over another, on one sin over another, and well, do you see the irony in that statement? They, too, have an emphasis on one thing over another...but to them, they are right. 

As we are all right in our own eyes. 

I suppose it might be slightly different if anywhere on the ad, it said, "This ad brought to you by ______," but it doesn't. It's just an ad about Jesus. Just - and even the critics confess this - a fairly good representation of the kind of thing Jesus was all about. Not perfect, but none of us is ever perfect in our understanding or presentation of God. But fairly good. 

So don't be fooled into thinking there's something terribly wrong with this message about Jesus because it was brought to you by a sinner. Every message of Jesus is brought to you by a sinner. 

A loved, forgiven, blessed, redeemed sinner. Praise the Lord.  

He Gets Us

If you were one of 123+ million viewers who tuned in to watch this year's big football game, you likely saw some commercials featuring none other than our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The message of these commercials were that Jesus washes feet and that He's not about hate, but love. 

And the backlash on social media was swift. 

It seems the viewing public had a lot of problems with these seemingly simple messages about Jesus. And overwhelmingly, the backlash was not about "pushing a religion" in America's biggest moment. 

It was...weirder than that. 

There were some who were upset because of the organization that funds these messages and its ties to another organization that some love to hate on. For them, there was a big disconnect between the kind of message that the ads seemed to present and the lived-out message those who financially supported the ads actually offer. They were, in essence, calling out, "Hypocrite!" and cautioning anyone against paying too much attention, not because the ads themselves were false but because the persons behind the ads don't do a good enough job (in the commentators' eyes) of living it out. 

Never mind that most persons don't even know who finances these Jesus ads, and the truth coming out of a donkey's mouth is still the truth of God, whether you think highly of donkeys or not. (That's a Numbers reference, by the way.) 

There were others who came out and said that if the persons behind the ads really loved Jesus, they would have invested the money into actual good causes, like feeding and housing the poor, rather than "wasting" it on a few seconds of air time. The billions of dollars that it cost to show Jesus on the most-watched screen in America seemed to them to be way down the ladder of all of the good that money could have done in the world when there are real problems out there that that kind of money can make a real impact on. 

Never mind that Jesus never told us to go and eliminate poverty; He told us to go and make disciples. To do that, you have to be talking about Jesus. 

There were some who said it was just a massive rebranding effort, trying to get the world to think differently about Jesus so that they wouldn't hate Christians so much. Maybe even think differently about Christians, instead of just assuming we're all messing it up. Maybe it was just an attempt to show the world that not everyone has lost the message of the real Christ. 

Never mind that Jesus could maybe use a little rebranding in this world after all the ways we've messed Him up for far too long.

There were others who said that the ads didn't go far enough into the message of Christ, that they were too much grace and not enough truth. That they created the impression of the same false Jesus that many liberal Christians are preaching these days - a Jesus who loves you just the way you are and doesn't want you to change, a Jesus who embraces anyone and everyone with no expectations for the way they live after meeting Him. He washed feet, yes, they said, but "it's important to remember that even having his feet washed by Christ wasn't enough to save Judas." There's a truth component about righteousness and life change and real faith that wasn't present in those ads. 

Never mind that someone has to be really listening before you can dump a whole load of any information on them. 

There were a lot of criticisms over the Jesus ads, a lot of talking heads that took immediately to the sphere of the internet to voice their myriad concerns. And somehow, not a lot of anyone saying, "Hey, that's awesome. Someone made Jesus part of the big football game." 

And yet, it's worth saying that at the very least, here we all are, talking about Him. Isn't that something? 

And we'll keep talking about Him this week. Because I think it's important to dive into some of these criticisms and see what we turn up. If for nothing else than to keep the conversation going.  

Try Harder; Do Better

I grew up, as many young persons in my generation did, with a disorder called "Try Harder; Do Better." It seemed to be a chronic condition. 

There were things in my life that I just couldn't seem to get control of, behaviors and patterns that I seemed to get stuck in over and over and over again, no matter how many times I got in trouble for them or how often adults in my life would step in and tell me that I really needed to try harder, that I had to do better. 

As I became an adult, we found other understandings for these things, and the truth that I had known and wrestled with for my entire life became absolutely clear: it didn't matter how hard I tried, I was never going to do better. Some of these things are just the way God made me, and I'm here to tell you - they are still as true of me today at 39 years old as they were when I was merely 9. 

But I think a lot of us live our spiritual lives under the same diagnosis. We live in a perpetual state before God of "try harder; do better," as though if we could just put a little more effort into things, be more diligent about them, be more disciplined, pray harder, worship louder, whatever, then we could overcome whatever it is that we believe is holding us back. 

And most of us come to a point in our lives where we realize...that's just not working. 

Of course it's not. It wasn't meant to. 

That's what grace is for. 

That's what Communion reminds us of. 

Communion reminds us that we don't have to try harder and do better. That we're never going to get there on our own. That that's okay. That there's still a cup poured out for us, even right now. Even in our brokenness. Even in all of the things that we keep messing up and getting wrong, a thousand times over. That there's a body broken for us so that we don't have to live under all the pressure of try harder; do better. 

This Table isn't about trying harder. It isn't about doing better. It's about coming as you are and being thankful for what Christ has done, which is the hardest and the best thing to ever happen for you. 

So as the cup is poured and the bread broken, don't let yourself get caught up in thinking you're missing the mark. If you're here, right now, around this Table, you are right where you're supposed to be. And no amount of trying harder or doing better will change that one bit. 

No amount of try harder; do better will make grace any more or less amazing. 

God on Repeat

A few days ago, we saw how God is content to keep calling your name until you know that it's He who is talking. Today's message is similar, but slightly different. It, too, comes to us from the book of 1 Samuel. 

David has come up against the Philistines, again. They seem to be a continual nuisance for him, almost as much as Saul was when he was persecuting the anointed shepherd-boy. But before David goes out against the Philistines, he prays, and he asks God whether the Lord will be with them. 

It's a good battle plan. You always want to know if God's going with you if you're going to wage war on someone and put your life, and the lives of your men, on the line. And God is faithful to answer - He tells David, yes. Go ahead and attack. I am with you, and I've got you. 

David heard the Lord, then looked back out on the Philistine army and a little bit of fear started to well back up in him. The Scriptures then tell us something interesting: 

So David asked the Lord again, just to make sure. 

One breath after the Lord has answered him and told him to go, David is sitting there, considering the enemy army, and he asks again - are You sure, Lord? 

Sounds like a lot of us, doesn't it?

We ask God for guidance, and He gives it to us, and we hear Him, and we know that's what God is asking us to do, but then, we ask again. Just to make sure. 

And then, we ask God if that was really Him confirming His Word when we asked Him to because, well, you can never be too safe when it comes to thinking you've heard from God. (And never too quick to just step out in faith, either, it seems.) 

The good news is that our God is faithful to answer us the second time just as He did the first. (And He will answer the third and the fourth and the fifth, too.) God doesn't resent having to tell us again. God doesn't resent our asking for confirmation. At least it means we're listening and hoping to hear from Him. 

God will give us His Word, and He will give it again, and He will give it again. He will give it when we're not sure we heard it right. He will give it when we look out and we're afraid all over again. He will give it again when we know we heard Him, but we're still reluctant. He will give it as many times as we ask because our Lord loves speaking to us, and He loves it when we're listening. He loves it when we ask, and He loves it when we're paying attention. 

So ask. Then, ask again if you need to. And if you need to ask a third time, go right ahead. The Lord is gracious to answer, every time. 

God of Truth

How do you stop evil? 

It's a question we ask ourselves a lot, especially as the headlines look darker and darker every day. Murder, rape, war, famine, disease, sin...our world is broken. And someone once said that all it takes for evil to flourish is for a good man to do nothing, but what are we - good men - to do?

I love the story of David and Saul when it comes to this question. It's a story that we read, but I'm not sure if it really strikes us the way it ought to. It's one of those stories that would make a great cinematic scene, if only we could picture it that way. So here it is:

David has been told he's going to be king, but Saul is still living and Saul is still king. David spends a lot of his time running away from Saul so that the current king doesn't kill him, and that's what we find happening in this scene: David is running away, again, trying to preserve his life. 

Saul keeps sending men after him, and every time the men come to the place where David is staying, God strikes them with a prophesying spirit and they stop pursuing and start prophesying. 

Let's stop right here and talk about what prophecy is. It is not, as we so often confuse it in our world, the ability to foretell the future and the talking about things that are going to happen. Rather, prophecy was simply speaking God's truth. 

So these men come, sent by Saul in pursuit of David, and as soon as they reach the king-to-be, they are struck by the spirit of God and just stand there speaking truth. 

And then, a second group comes, and the same thing happens to them. And another group, with the same result. Until Saul himself comes in pursuit of David, determined to kill the anointed one, and he, too, is struck by the spirit of God and stands there "completely caught up" in prophesying. 

All of the evil in Saul's heart is stopped dead in its tracks by a spirit that will let him do nothing but proclaim the truth. God's truth. 

I think the same thing would go a long way in our world. 

I think the answer to the evils in our world is not good, but truth. It's our willingness to stand in broken places and declare God's truth - that this isn't the way things were supposed to be, that this isn't how things are going to be, that there is a Savior who already died and rose again to fix things exactly like this, that there is hope, there is grace, and there is love. 

I think the answer to the evils in our world is to get our world "completely caught up" in speaking the truth about God. Or, if they are unwilling, then at the very least, to teach our world to hear the rocks crying out. 

Truth is one way to stop evil. 

Are you caught up in the spirit? 

God of Salvation

The "breaking news" almost every evening when I turn on the local news is another story of a shooting in our nearby metropolis. Throughout the year, the talking heads continue to update us on the statistics of gun violence...and the community organizers and compassionate volunteers keep lamenting, "Why do we think violence is the answer? Guns will not solve our problems." 

We could get into a conversation about guns, of course (and we often do), but that's not the point. The point is that we are a people who believe in solving our problems by physical force. The guy with the fastest bullet wins. The one who is the quickest draw saves himself...if by nothing else than eliminating his enemy. 

But let's throwback to a young man of God who was caught in a real battle for his life, not some mere petty dispute. 

The Israelites were lined up across from the Philistines, and every day, the Philistine giant, Goliath, would step forward and challenge any man of Israel to a one-on-one battle. Anyone who could defeat him would take victory for the entire people. All it would take, it seems, is one man with a bigger sword, a faster swing, a quicker advance. 

Then steps forward a little shepherd boy. 

When David volunteered for this mission, King Saul tried to outfit him for the battle. He tried to put some armor on the young man, tried to give him a big sword. And David, after stumbling around for a few minutes, threw all of that off and said it was more of a hindrance than a help. He couldn't fight like this. 

And he didn't need to. 

One of the most powerful statements made by David in this moment comes in 1 Samuel 17:47, as he stands with a few rocks in hand and a heart full of faith. David says, The Lord does not need swords or spears to save people.

Read that again - God doesn't need weapons. 

We are a people who run to weapons, who think the only way to win is to have the most fire power. But God doesn't need weapons. 

He proved it that day on the battlefield with David. He proved it again on the battlefield with Jonathan. And He proved it forever on a hill outside of Jerusalem, a placed called Cavalry, and a shame called the Cross. God simply doesn't need swords and spears...or gun and knives and bombs...to save people. 

Love does that. 

God is Never Late

You've probably felt once or twice in your life like God is a little late, like He missed the moment when you really needed Him and now...whatever. And some well-meaning Christian will usually come along to tell you that God is never late; it's just that His timing is not our timing. 

That's true, but it's not always helpful. At least, it doesn't always feel helpful. Especially when we read our Bible and think it's full of stories of God showing up right on time, every time. 

But what if it's not?

There's a very famous story in 1 Samuel when God is, by all human measures, late. It looks like He's late by God-ly measures, too. 

The story centers around young King Saul, who is doing his thing and leading Israel in battle. He's pre-arranged with the priest-prophet Samuel to meet at a certain time to make an offering before going into the next battle, but...Samuel is late. Samuel doesn't show up when he's supposed to. 

Saul is starting to panic. His troops are starting to worry. No one's sure how long they're supposed to wait, but everyone knows they don't want to go into battle without God's favor. 

After waiting what must have seemed like an eternity and watching the sun start to set and the light for battle start to fade, Saul does the only thing he can think to do - he offers the sacrifice himself. He can't wait any longer for Samuel, but he can't move into battle without God. It only seems reasonable. 

Except just as the smoke starts to waft heavenward from the offering, Samuel shows up. And...things get ugly. What are you doing, Saul? You aren't authorized to offer the sacrifices; you are not a priest. 

Well, uhm. Well, see, I just thought God was late. That's all. I mean, uhm...where were you, Samuel?

And that's how King Saul lost the favor of the Lord. 

See, it all started with a time frame that Saul had in his own mind. He had the logistics of battle in front of him, and as a skilled leader, he knew roughly how things had to go. As a man of faith, he also know how those things must go, but his impatience got the better of him. He didn't think he had any more time to wait for God. 

Isn't it the same way with us? We, too, are an impatient people, and we think we understand the timing of things and how they have to go. 

But look at the story - God was only a few minutes later than the moment when Saul thought he was running out of time. Saul had just started the fire, just slaughtered the animal, just separated the fat, and Samuel was right there. Saul wasn't entirely wrong - he was very close to being at the time, the time God had to show up. He was off by just a few minutes. 

Just a few minutes. 

What if you're off by just a few minutes in your estimation of God's timing? 

God is never late.  

A Place at the Table

For a long time in my life, I have inappropriately meshed two messages of Jesus in my heart - in my wounded, world-weary, broken heart. And those messages center around the Table. 

See, I know that the Bible tells us that Jesus has set a table for us. We have seen it in the Upper Room, and we come together to celebrate what it means to break bread and to pour wine with Him, to remember and to celebrate His sacrifice for us. There is something wonderfully holy about this moment. 

But every time I would think about this table, I would think about another table, too - a table in a lesson that Jesus was trying to teach. There was a point in His ministry when Jesus said clearly that when you come into a party, when you come into a room where there is feasting afoot, you should never take a dignified seat at the table (this is how I read it); instead, you should always take the lowliest possible seat, maybe even sit on the floor, so that no one will figure out that you don't belong where you tried to sit. 

Do you hear my brokenness talking? 

For years, I would sneak into the back of Communion, quietly tiptoeing, trying not to get caught. I didn't want anyone to know that I didn't belong there. Probably even more than that, I wasn't sure my heart could handle hearing that I didn't belong around that Table. There was something inside of me that didn't feel worthy. That, honestly, didn't feel loved. That felt like, even though this table was for everyone, that somehow still didn't include me. 

And, well, no one wants to be the center of attention when everyone figures out you don't belong where you tried to be. Jesus says it's shameful to be asked to move because you overestimated yourself. 

Better, then, to just sit on the floor. If one dares stay long enough to sit at all. 

It took a long time before I could envision this table any other way, but once I did, it changed everything. 

See, this table is not set with just a certain number of seats. There's not room for just so many and then no more. This table is set with a personal invitation, and that means...my seat at the table already has my name on it. 

It's sitting there, reserved for me. Ready and waiting. And when I come in and choose to sit on the floor or hang in the back, that seat doesn't get filled by someone more confident, more faithful, more favored, more beloved, more ready to be there, less broken...when I come in and choose to sit on the floor, my seat at the table stays empty. 

And with those beckoning eyes, Jesus just keeps motioning toward it. With a nod of the head, He says, "That's your place. It's yours. It's always going to be yours. Whenever you're ready." 

And so, from the floor, I spent many years staring at an empty seat that bears my name. A seat I was too insecure, too unsure, too broken to sit in. I sat, and I watched it, and I saw in His eyes the invitation. 

I don't know if it's a lowly seat. I don't know if it's a seat of honor. I don't know if it's the kind of seat someone might be asked to move from...or the kind of seat someone might be asked to move to. I don't know where, in the hierarchy we're so intent on putting on everything, what sort of seat this is. 

But it's mine. It's my seat. It's my place at the table. 

And if I never have the peace of heart to sit there, it will always and forever be open for me. And if I walk in tomorrow and sit like I belong there, no one will bat an eye. And either way, God Himself will continue to smile on me, beckon with His eyes, and nod His head. 

This Table is for me. 

This Table is for you. 

Will you come? 

One Movement

We've been talking about the two movements involved in God's purpose and plan for your life - what God is doing and what you are doing. In other words, the thing He's putting together and the faithful steps you're taking in the meantime. But, in case you haven't figured it out by now, it's really all semantics. 

There's only one movement. 

It's all what God is doing. 

Because that beautiful, good, wonderful, faithful thing that I'm doing right now that maybe doesn't look a whole lot like the big vision and dream He's given me...that's His thing, too. 

How could it not be?

Its something good that satisfies something in my soul. It's blessed, and I am both being blessed by it and blessing others through it. It is providing for my current needs, while also keeping open my future possibilities. It is contributing to the glory of God in the world. 

Friends, that "little" thing you're doing right now, that small, faithful step you're taking - that's part of God's plan for your life, too. It may not be the thing that keeps you up at night dreaming, but it is the thing that lets you sleep at night. And that's not an accident. It's not a mistake. It's not a coincidence. 

It's the plan.

This is a great comfort to those of us who have somewhere along the way picked up the idea that God has exactly one overarching plan for your life and that if you miss it, you've ruined everything. If you fail, you've messed everything up. If you never get that opportunity, your life has been a waste. That's simply not true, no matter how many times it's been preached from the pulpit or shoved down your throat. 

Yes, God has one plan for your life, but it's in the breath, not the details. God's plan for your life is to sanctify you. To make you holy. To use your life to bring glory to His name. To spread the Word, to share the message. To do good, beautiful, blessed, holy things. Whatever that might look like. 

And that doesn't look like one thing. It looks like lots of things. It looks like lots of small things that might not even look like much in the moment, but those moments...are everything. 

Sometimes, we get a glimpse of the vision, and we look in the mirror, and we think we're missing it, but if we're doing the faithful thing God has in front of us right now, we're never missing it. We're right where He wants us to be. 

Sure, there are things in our life that He's putting together, things He's working out that only He can work out. And there are things that we're doing that are available for us to do right now, in this moment, while we're holding onto and letting go of the next one. 

But at the end of the day, it's all what He's doing. Every little bit of it is His plan. 

If it weren't, it wouldn't be so blessed. 

So relax. You're not missing it. Even if your life today doesn't look like the vision that dances behind your dreaming eyes, don't despair. It's entirely possible that even now, you are right where you're supposed to be. 

What You Are Doing

While we are holding onto and letting go of what God is doing in His plan for our lives, we cannot ignore that there is another movement in His purpose and plan - and that is what we are doing. 

I have often said that the only thing I am ever responsible for doing is the next faithful thing, whatever that is. And I believe that. And I believe that the next faithful thing doesn't always look like it's connected to the big thing. It doesn't always look like it's connected to the big vision. 

But it matters. 

God has a big plan for your life, but He has a lot of little plans, too. He has a lot of things He's putting together and working together. There are a few things going on here. Sometimes, He's preparing you for the bigger thing, the other thing. Sometimes, He's just blessing you. Sometimes, He's giving you opportunities. Sometimes, He's using your opportunities to help fulfill His promises in someone else's life. 

Whatever is going on, we can know for sure that it is good. 

And that's a little bit of the problem, too. 

Because what I've found in my life is that while I'm busy doing the next faithful thing and finding that it is good, I'm tempted to believe that maybe God has abandoned the vision He once gave me. Or that I was wrong in interpreting it. Or that I messed it up somehow. 

The next faithful thing, whatever I'm doing, can be so thoroughly good that I'm tempted to believe that maybe this is the real thing that God has for me, the fullness of what God has for me. And when that happens, I'm tempted to throw myself all in on that, invest everything I've got, abandon everything else, and pursue it wholeheartedly. 

But...what happened to the dream? 

It's funny to me, and one of the things that prompted my writing about this this week, how things just keep circling back and God won't let me forget. 

I am in a good season, a really good season. It is a blessed season full of peace and rest and joy and confident assurance. I am happy where I am, and I know that God's goodness permeates this entire place. It's nice to be able to breathe a little easier for the first time in a long time, just being in a good place. And I have been talking as though God has this for me - and in a sense, He does. This is exactly where God wants me to be right now, and He is making it good. 

Then, I was scrolling through social media the other day and saw an image that sparked in my heart a dream God gave me twenty years ago. A dream that, for many years, I threw myself wholeheartedly into but couldn't make work in my own timing and my own power. And you know what? God's still working on that. That's something He's still doing. The way that image tickled my heart, I know that's something He's still working on. 

That doesn't change the goodness of this season or the truth that this season is exactly what God has for me and where He wants me to be. I am doing the faithful thing, and it's what God desires of me. But even this faithful thing is not the whole thing, and I can't let myself lose sight of both. I have to figure out how to hold onto - and let go of - both. 

I was reflecting on some of the friends I made in seminary, and if you looked at our lives right now, you'd think it weird that just a few years ago, we were all seminarians, studying for the ministry, preparing ourselves to serve forever. And these are gifted men and women, absolutely gifted. But...a very small percentage of us are in "formal" ministry right now. A very, very small percentage of us are making our bread and butter in the Word. Does that mean the time, money, energy, etc. that we poured into seminary was a waste? 

Of course not. 

Because in our lives, there are two movements at work - what God is doing and what we are doing. Seminary is something we were doing to prepare for what God is doing, but so is the current faithful thing each one of us is doing. That's never a waste. 

In fact, it is good. 

What God is Doing

At any given time, I think there are two movements in our lives related to God's overarching purpose and plan for us - what God is doing and what we are doing. And, as I said yesterday, I don't think these always have to be the same thing. 

So let's start by talking about what God is doing. 

God is working things together for the good of those who love Him. He is working with your intricate design to weave you into the world exactly where He designed you to be. He is fulfilling the promises He made to you and through you. We know all of that. Or, at least, we intellectually know all of that. So we say. 

Sometimes, God gives us a vision for this, for what it looks like, for what it will one day be. Sometimes, God lets us know what He's working toward, where He'll have us going, what He'll have us doing. It may come in a fleeting moment or in a dream that you can't stop having, but He will give you a vision for what He is doing with your life. 

But here's something I've learned - it doesn't always look the way that I think it looks in the vision. 

We can get this vision from God and think we know what He's up to, and we can think - we often think - that this is the great, big, overarching plan for everything. That God is going to bring us to this place and we're never going to leave it. That this is the end-game, the everything. This is what we're working toward. 

I don't think there's necessarily a problem with that. When God gives you a vision for what He's doing, I think it's important to invest yourself in the things that will help you get there. If you feel like God is calling you to a foreign country, there's no problem with starting to study a foreign language. If you feel like He's going to put you in the worship ministry, there's nothing wrong with starting to sing a little more in the shower. If He's calling you into formal ministry, it's absolutely reasonable to start looking into form educational training (assuming that would be required). Part of being a person of faith is pursuing the pieces that take you to the places God is showing you. 

At the same time, maybe what God is preparing you for isn't everything; maybe it's just one thing. Maybe it's just one moment. Maybe it's where you're going, where you might pass through, but not where you're staying. Maybe the vision He's given you is for a season, not for settling. 

The Bible is full of stories of persons in transition. Of fleeting moments. Of holy encounters that move on into other things. Of sojourns through sacredness, surrounded by a lot of the mundane. 

This is important because I think we do ourselves a disservice when we go all-in on the one thing we're sure God has shown us, and we end up frustrated because it is failing somehow. It isn't coming together the way we thought. It doesn't look the way we thought it was supposed to look. When that happens, we can't help but feel like maybe we're failing God...or maybe He's failing us. Then, maybe a long time later, we see the vision again, and we think, oh, no, I'm not falling for that again. 

That's why we have to recognize that when we're talking about God's purpose and plan, one of the movements of that is what God is doing - what He's working together that we can't force or hurry. That we can't make happen under our own power, even if we're doing everything right in trying to prepare ourselves for it. There is part of the plan for each of our lives that is simply God's call, God's doing, God's timing. Part of our journey is both holding onto and letting go of that.  

God's Purpose and Plan

There's a lot of pressure on us as Christians to discover "God's plan" for our lives and live that out. Actually, there's a lot of pressure on us as human beings to do this, although those who do not believe in God simply feel this impulse as some kind of existential dread. There's just something about our being that wants to know what we were created for, what we're supposed to do, who we're supposed to be. (And every generation has had its outpourings of 'fads' in identity trying to figure it out.) 

Most of us feel like if we miss this thing, this one thing, we've missed everything. We've wasted our life. We're wasting our life.  We're never going to be happy or successful or stable or any other myriad of adjectives we might place on our life that all seem to hinge on this one thing.

And if we ever do find it, we'll go off in search of it like the pearl of great price, giving up everything to pursue it...only to be devastated if it doesn't quite work out the way we're so certain we ought to. 

Did we fail? Did God fail? Were we even on the right path at all? What happened that messed things up so bad when they seemed to be so certain? 

What if I told you maybe there's not one thing? 

We've talked about this idea before, and it's common to hear someone say that what God really wants from you is to live justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly, and as long as you're living with your heart for God every day, it doesn't matter what you're actually doing (within certain reason), but I don't think that's the answer, either. It's a good one. There's a lot of truth in it. I just don't think it satisfies what our souls are searching for. 

A lot of us have had this moment, this moment that is so clear to us what God has planned for our life. We've had this moment of crystal clear understanding, it seems, and then it doesn't work out. It's hard to swallow a pill after that, then, that says, "Then just be a good, faithful person. That's all God wants for you." 

But what about that dream? What about that calling? What about that thing we were so certain of? 

I want to tell you: I've had this moment. I've had this moment on repeat. God has confirmed this vision for me a thousand times over the past twenty years in following Him. And I did - I went off and pursued it, trying to make it happen in my own power, just like all of us are tempted to do. And you know what? It's not where my life is right now. 

That doesn't make my life a failure. It doesn't make the dream or the calling wrong. It doesn't change anything really. But it has helped me understand what's really happening with God in our lives, and it is my hope that the things I'm holding onto and holding out for might help you understand some of your life, as well. 

So here it is: 

I think that at any given point in our lives, there are two movements going on, two things happening. First, there's what God is doing with our life. This is the dream, the calling, the things He's working together in ways that we can't understand. And second, I think there's what we're doing with our life...for God. This is our obedience, our faithfulness, our integrity. This is what we're investing ourselves in while continuing to pursue and to believe in and to hold out hope for the dream. 

And here's the kicker, here's what I'm learning: these aren't always the same thing. 

Intrigued? I'll break this down some more in the next few days. 

A Dose of Jesus

Depending on what kind of church tradition you're worshiping in, your Communion experience might look a little different. But for many churches who practice regular Communion, the ritual itself is fairly simple - a little bit of cracker, a little bit of juice (or wine), a prayer. 

Oftentimes, the entire meal takes less than five minutes for the entire congregation to partake. 

And I think that does us a disservice. 

I think sometimes, we pick up this little bit of cracker and this little bit of juice, and it can feel to us less like a meal and more like a dose of medicine. We take the cracker the same way we take a tylenol - quick, and without really tasting it. Just trying to get it down. Ready to move on to the next thing. 

When we do this, it's easy for us to also get the impression that maybe Communion works like a tylenol, too. Like we have just taken our dose of Jesus for the week, and it's an extended-release tablet. It will slowly work its way through our system for the next seven days until it's time for our next dose, covering us in the blood for a little bit longer and making our life a little bit holier until its effects start to wane. 

We can start to think that Communion is just some kind of maintenance activity that we participate in in the church, like a miniature new baptism every week that keeps us freshly consecrated, constantly tied to Jesus - our holy drug dealer who keeps giving us this little bit of medicine at a time, this small remembrance of Him that fizzles into our souls and then out of it and always needs replenishing. 

Friends, this is not what Communion was meant to be. This is not the way Jesus did it, and it's not the way He intends us to do it. 

This is a meal. This is a sit-down, share stories, come together kind of a meal, the kind you're supposed to remember for the rest of your life - not try to repeat every week. It's the kind of meal you tell stories about later - hey, do you remember that time...? It's the kind of meal you relish because of who you spent it with, and you can't get the memory of it to stop lingering in your mind. 

Communion is new every week. New table. New meal. New stories. New friends. New memories to make. It's a time to come together that maybe looks really similar, but the truth is, it just isn't like the last time. It's never like the last time. 

It's always like the first time. It's always something new. 

And we're supposed to walk away from it not with some impression of a time-release goodness, but with an absolute fullness - fullness of Christ, fullness of spirit, fullness of joy, fullness of grace. 

Maybe it looks like a little cracker and a little sip of juice, but we can't keep fooling ourselves. This is not some spiritual medication regimen; this is dinner. Family dinner. The Lord's Supper. This is a table. 

Are you here for it?

God Changes Hearts

You've probably heard a saying that goes something like this: "God doesn't call the qualified; He qualifies the called." And there are plenty of biblical stories to back this up. 

Stories like the story of Israel's first king, Saul. 

God sent Samuel, the priest, to anoint Saul as the first king of Israel, and Saul didn't really know what was going on. He wasn't really anyone special, wasn't thinking of becoming a king in a land that wasn't even a kingdom. Then, Samuel shows up, pours some oil on his head, anoints him...and Saul turns to walk away. 

I mean, what do you do? Some random, weird dude shows up in priestly garments, pours oil on your head, proclaims you the first-ever king of a people who have never had a king before, and...what? I guess you go back to doing whatever you were doing before this crazy guy interrupted you for a second, wiping the oil off your brow and shaking your head as you go. 

But the Bible tells us that as Saul turned to walk away from Samuel, God changed his heart. Right then, right there. And then all the signs the crazy priest promised came to pass.

This is important. Don't miss what's happening here. 

God chose Saul. Chose him. Chose him so assuredly that He sent Samuel to anoint the man, sight unseen. But after his anointing, God changes his heart and makes him...kingly, I guess. 

And that means that when God chose Saul, we can only assume there was something un-kingly about him. Something uncertain. Something unconvinced. Something...that just wasn't quite there. 

Does that let you breathe a little easier?

So often, we think God couldn't possibly call us. Not me. I'm not worthy. I'm not ready. I'm not brave enough, strong enough, righteous enough, faithful enough. I'm not whatever enough. We spend a lot of our lives, like Moses, protesting - not me. Can't be me. Couldn't be me. 

Then some crazy something pops out of the bushes and pours oil on our heads and calls us anyway, and we protest all the harder. Not me. Can't be. Couldn't be. Does God have any idea what He's doing right now? 

He does. He's calling you to something greater. Not necessarily because of anything you are, but because of what you will be.

Because when God calls you, He'll change your heart to match. Just like Saul. 

It's something to think about. God knows exactly who you are when He calls you. Exactly. And He calls you anyway, before it even seems possible. 

Not me. Can't be me. Couldn't be me. 

But...it's me.