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Last summer we scheduled youth group events for the teenagers at our church. We had, in addition to having the teens organize and lead a Vacation Bible School, some fun events -- trips to the beach, hiking, camping, and other things. Two events stand out in my mind.
First, was our trip to see the SeaDogs -- our baseball team in Portland -- play a Friday night game. Unfortunately, we had picked a week that didn't work well for most of our teens, and the few teens who could have gone, forgot all about it. The result? Three leaders showed up, and no teens at all!
I was disappointed. I was really looking forward to going to the game with the teens (I'm really not a big baseball fan, but it still is a fun time, when you go with people you know and care about.)
The other event was our hiking trip. We were planning to take our teens on a hike up Cranberry Peak, in the Bigelow Mountain Range. Because this was a long trip, and about two hours from home, we decided we would go the day before, spend the night at my brother's home, and his family could feed us breakfast, and provide food/supplies for our backpacks. Naturally, this would cost money, and we were going to have to charge each teen a few dollars to cover everything. And we were also going to have to get an advance count, so my brother would know how much food to buy. So I passed around a clipboard, and teens signed up if they were planning to come. We had fifteen people sign up. My brother purchased accordingly.
And the day of our departure...we had a grand total of four teenagers who showed up. Which meant much more money had been spent than should have been spent!
Now, I must say, we had a really fun time. But...I was very disappointed. And this was a very different kind of disappointment. When we didn't get to go to the SeaDogs game, I was disappointed, but it wasn't a disappointment directed at any one particular person or people. This time, I found that I was disappointed in people who said "Yes, I'm going to do this," and then backed out. I had been let down.
The book of I Peter says (1 Peter 2:6) that whoever believes in Jesus, the foundation stone of the church, will not be disappointed (in some translations). And this is not talking about the first kind of disappointment. Obviously; we all face disappointments on a regular basis. Anyone who thinks that Christians go through life without disappointments...they need to rethink that!
However, what we can say is this: we will never have the second kind of disappointment in Christ; He will never never let us down. He will always follow through.
The translation I use says that we will not be put to shame. We will never be embarrassed or ashamed that we put our faith in Christ. He will never let us down, because He is the solid rock, the sure foundation.
Our society is filled with people who will start a lawsuit at the drop of a hat, and our court system can potentially get clogged with frivolous lawsuits that people take way too seriously.
Some of my favorites, in addition to the very well-known case of the woman who sued McDonald's because she got burned by the coffee when she spilled it into her lap, include the following:
- The family who sued Sea World because their 27-year-old son broke into Sea World, snuck past security, went swimming with the killer whale, and drowned. Why is this Sea World's fault? Because they make cute and cuddly plush toys of the killer whale, making the 27-year-old think it would be fun to swim with the whale.
- The man who, in the course of a high speed chase from the police, drove his vehicle into a telephone pole and broke some limbs. He sued the city. Why? Because the whole thing was the police department's fault, for chasing him in the first place.
- The father of a Little League player who sued the coach because the team didn't win enough games for them to make it to the playoffs.
Yep, our society will sue at the drop of a hat. Makes me think of some verses in Proverbs:
How quick we are to argue with our neighbor, and even make our argument a matter of public record and attention, instead of quietly resolving the matter with those concerned.
The proverb tells us that those who make their case public, and go out hastily to argue, end up being embarrassed, humiliated, and have their reputation besmirched.
How true this is; the people mentioned above can find their stories plastered all over the Internet, and though some of them have won monetary awards in their frivolous cases, what they have lost is far more important -- their reputation and their standing in the community.
What person in their right mind would invite this woman into their home, knowing full well that if she injures herself (by spilling coffee on herself, or any other way!), she's likely to sue your for your hospitality?
What person in their right mind would volunteer to coach a baseball team, knowing that one of the parents is perfectly content to sue you if the team doesn't do well?
Suppose you were at a store, and as you were getting ready to make your purchase, you realized that you didn't quite have enough money to cover the purchase. What would you do?
Go home and get more money? How about walking up to the person behind the counter and asking "Can I borrow some money from the store so I can make my purchase? I'll pay you back the next time I'm here..."
Well, that actually happened to me today. Fortunately, it was at a place of business I go to quite frequently, so the people there know me really well. Fortunately, I was only short by 25 cents. Did they loan me a quarter? Yep. They sure did.
Now, in general, I wouldn't hold out much hope of getting loans that way, and in most stores I wouldn't even think about asking to borrow a quarter. What made the difference here?
Two things. First, as I said, the people there know me. They know that if I say I am going to do something, I will. They trust me. And secondly, their trust wasn't really going to cost them very much. If I didn't pay them back, they would only have lost 25 cents.
The book of Proverbs says (Proverbs 3:5) Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Trusting God means having confidence in Him, that what He says, He will do. Trusting God implies that we believe in His integrity.
But trusting Him with all our heart goes a step further. Trusting Him with all my heart implies that I would trust Him no matter what the cost, or the risk.
Imagine I had walked into that same store and said, "Can I borrow two thousand dollars? I'll pay you back the next time I'm in." Do you think they would have agreed as readily?
No! Because the cost (risk) of their trust would be much higher. They would have to know me far better than they do to be sure I could be trusted with two thousand dollars!
But trusting God with all my heart means that I no longer count the cost -- no matter how big or small the issue, I can count on God to fulfill His promises.
Well, now I need to go pay back a quarter!
As a child growing up on a small farm, there were many chores I disliked. Shoveling out the barn, weeding the garden, feeding chickens, and the pig...
But there was one thing I disliked more than all the others. One yearly event that I dreaded. Haying.
That was one of the hottest, sweatiest jobs imaginable. Whether I was in the hayloft throwing and stacking bales, or out in the fields putting bales onto the trailer (yes, we did it the old fashioned way...for us a "thrower" had two legs, two arms, and very tired muscles), haying was a miserable job. If you were in the hayloft, the heat and the humidity were enough to kill an ox -- let alone a ten-year-old boy -- and if you were in the field you had to suffer with the summer sun baking and roasting everything in sight.
And no matter where you were, you had to deal with that rough, dried stubble scratching against your skin.
But being in the fields did have one advantage over being in the hayloft: when you were in the field, there would be an occasional moment of relief. When a strong, cool breeze would come wafting across the fields, the breeze would touch every part of you as it passed by, bringing a bit of relief from the heat. It made a miserable chore bearable, and for that brief moment you would find yourself thinking, "Aaaah! I'm going to make it through this!"
The book of Proverbs tells us this:
How true that is! How many times have you been in a position where you asked someone to do something, or they said they would do something, and then they never followed through? Do you remember that feeling? The frustration, the failed plans, the discouragement you feel can be as oppressive as the summer heat.
But someone who does what they say they will do, who you can count on to fulfill their promises -- that is a person as refreshing as a breeze blowing in off the snow-covered mountains, bringing relief and joy.
So...which kind of person are you?
A week ago I was teaching our youth group from 1 Peter 2:1-3, in which Peter tells us to put aside (among other things) malice.
I told the teens that having malice in your heart is like being fitted with the wrong prescription eyeglasses. Nothing looks right to you, and you never see things as they really are. People who are filled with bitterness and malice never see the world as it really is; they see it in the way that best feeds their bitterness, and allows their malice to fester.
Today I saw a perfect example of that. Our youth group went to a high school boys' basketball tournament between the Christian academy in our area and another Christian academy in the state (which I will leave nameless).
When our boys were running out onto the court to be introduced, a woman -- through no fault of her own -- walked unsuspectingly into the path of our team, and the situation was such that neither she nor they saw the other in time to avoid a collision.
The woman was knocked to the floor, and was knocked unconscious. Someone called 911, and the woman was taken to the hospital (before she left she had regained consciousness, and was coherent, and had full mobility).
Our boys were just standing around with that "deer-in-the-headlights" look when they realized what had happened, until it became obvious that there was nothing they could do, and were sent to begin warming up for the game.
But I happened to be sitting in the bleachers right in the middle of a group of fans from the other school. Not a big deal, right? I mean, we are a group of Christians, and we can maintain cordial relationships, even in the midst of a sporting event. Right?
Tragically, that was not the case. The group sitting behind us personally knew the woman who was knocked down, and became enraged over the accident. One woman, who (by the testimony of her own mouth) didn't even see what happened, within minutes of the accident was telling all her friends about how "that boy who knocked her down just kept right on going and never stopped to see if she was alright."
Blatantly not true.
"He's laughing about the whole thing. What a jerk."
Likewise not true.
"That whole team is a bunch of jerks. They're so stuck on themselves."
"I hope God makes them lose this game. Serves them right."
"I hope that boy gets hurt. If I get a chance, I'm going to go punch him in the face."
And in the area of the bleachers where we were sitting, we actually had fans around us cheering and laughing when "that boy" was fouled and knocked to the floor.
Honestly, I was embarrassed and ashamed to be sitting in the middle of such an ungodly display of malice and deceit. The viciousness of the woman's slander was disgraceful. But as I thought about it, I realized that, although this woman was spewing out blatantly false statements about the boys on our team, she probably didn't even realize she was doing it.
Though she didn't see what happened, she latched on to the story that would feed her malicious anger, and because malice prevents you from seeing things as they really are...I think this woman actually believed the story she had invented, and was spewing out to all her friends.
Tragic. But it was exactly what I had told our teens about the week before.
It's easy to shake our heads in disgust at stories like that, and think "I would never be like that," but in reality, every one of us has probably -- at some time or another -- let our anger, our malice, our bitterness and rage, cloud our view of events, and destroy our ability to perceive things as they really are.
Solid, liquid, or gas? Which are you? Everything around us is in one of those three states. What exactly does it mean to be a solid, or a liquid, or a gas? Good question.
A solid is a sample of matter that retains its shape and density when not confined.
A liquid is a sample of matter that conforms to the shape of a container in which it is held, and which acquires a defined surface in the presence of gravity.
A gas is a sample of matter that conforms to the shape of a container in which it is held and acquires a uniform density inside the container, even in the presence of gravity and regardless of the amount of substance in the container.
If we were to compare the people of this world to molecules, I think most would be in liquid state. Free to float about, held in place only by external forces, but never really bound together.
This is what our world is now, but I think that we are moving toward becoming gaseous. Our society has become more and more mobile as technology increases, and people talk about easy transportation and Internet as things which make our world "smaller." But in reality, they don't make our world smaller; they make us bounce about frenetically like gaseous molecules. We are becoming a people who randomly bounce about, running into more and more molecules, but never attaching to any of them. We are becoming gaseous.
But for those of us who are Christians, we are called to something completely different than this. Not liquid, not gaseous. Solid. We are called to be part of the church, a structure which, while living and breathing, has an architect who has fitted us together, and we are bound together. Something solid, something permanent, something unbreakable.
Most people in our society don't want to part of a structure, for a structure binds us, and makes us less free. At least...that is what they think. But even liquids and gases are bound -- they are bound by externals -- a pitcher, a glass, a room. And those which are bound by nothing eventually become utterly lost and alone.
But in a solid, no molecule is ever alone, and every molecule is part of something bigger and grander than itself. And, unlike water and gas, which shift and change depending on the container, the bonds which hold us together will never change, will never be broken.
1 Peter 2:4-6 tells us that we come to Christ to be built up as a spiritual house. Christ is the bond which holds us together. He is the foundation upon which we are built. And, "whoever believes in Him will not be put to shame."
It is interesting that, in our free-flowing, frenetic society, being "bound" is considered to be a bad thing, but it is only as you take your place in the structure which was designed for you that you discover what you were really made for, and how your life can be both fulfilling and free.
In the 1600s (aproximately 1688) Christopher Wren, a well-known architect, was commissioned by the Windsor town councillors to build the Windsor Guildhall -- a picture of which is shown below.
As you can see from the picture, the ground floor of this building is completely open, with the main part of the building being supported by eighteen pillars around the edge. This open space was designed to be used as a public market.
When the town councillors saw what Wren intended to do, they (in their infinite architectural wisdom) protested to the great architect that his design would never work. Eighteen pillars would not be enough to support the weight of the building, and the whole thing would collapse.
Christopher Wren insisted that his design was solid and safe, and an argument ensued. The upshot of it all was, Christopher Wren agreed to add four more columns into his design. These four columns were interior columns, and can be seen in the picture below.
But Christopher Wren had the last laugh; when he designed the four inner pillars, he deliberately designed them to be two inches too short; the tops of the columns do not even touch the beams of the ceiling. They bear no weight at all!
Over the centuries, many people have had a good laugh at Christopher Wren's subtle jab at the town councillors (although today, if you visited the guildhall you would discover that at some point wooden shims have been placed above the pillars, so they really do bear weight.)
But Christopher Wren obviously knew what he was doing; for centuries this building stood strong and tall without those center columns supporting any weight.
The book of I Peter describes the church as a building -- not made of stone, but of living stone. We, as Christians, make up the structure of the church.
Just as people rejected and disbelieved Christopher Wren's architectural plans, mankind has rejected the foundation (Jesus Christ) upon which God is building His church. But our foundation is a foundation which will never disappoint, and the structure built on that foundation will never collapse.
But God is not like Christopher Wren; unlike Wren, God has not put any "useless" columns in His church. The book of Ephesians tells us that we are all being fitted together. There are no useless or unimportant parts in God's building. We each have a part to play, a work to do, a section of the building to support. And when we choose not to do our part, the whole building suffers.
If we refuse to bear the weight given to us, the building will not collapse, but another -- stronger -- part of the building will have to carry the burdens we refuse to bear. In other words, our choice to not do our part in God's work is a choice to place a heavier burden on the back of another part of the church.
When I was in college, I knew a young man who had a very interesting childhood, a young man who loved to tell stories about all the odd adventures and misadventures he'd had while growing up.
I remember, when I first knew him, sitting in the cafeteria eating supper and listening him telling the most fascinating stories. I remember thinking to myself, "How in the world does one person have so many strange things happen to them?" And I remember thinking, from time to time, either "Why couldn't my childhood have been this interesting?" or "I sure am glad my childhood wasn't like that!"
Then one day, when he was telling one of his childhood adventures, I found myself thinking about one of his previous stories he had told a month earlier, and thinking to myself, "How can both of these stories be true? They seem to contradict one another!"
From that point on, I began listening to his stories with a much more critical ear, remembering previous stories and comparing them to current stories, and looking for ways in which the stories didn't match up. It didn't take long before I realized: "None of these stories are true; they exist only in his imagination. And if any of them are true, it certainly isn't worth my time to try to figure out the difference!"
Gradually, everyone in his circle of friends began to understand that he was a perpetual, habitual liar. And soon everyone began distancing themselves from him. We all had better things to do with our time than listen to him tell stories that we knew weren't true.
Eventually, he got a whole new circle of friends, but that set of friendships was doomed as well.
I understand the desire to make yourself look good, and telling a few carefully placed lies can be one way to do that. But the cost this young man paid for "looking good" was far too high. When you give in to the temptation to speak falsehood, ultimately it becomes impossible to sort out your lies and keep them consistent. Ultimately, your sin will find you out.
1 Peter 2:1 tells us to put aside all deceit, and lists this as one of the prerequisites to having a sincere hunger for the Word of God, and of growing up spiritually. A person who indulges in deceit is a person who will never grow into a healthy, spiritually mature man or woman.
It's funny the things you remember from your childhood -- often it's not the big events that stick in your memory, but the small, silly little things. I remember breakfast time. Specifically, I remember the Battle of the Toast.
You see, every morning my mom would toast up and butter a big old stack of toast and put it on the breakfast table. Right in the middle of the table. I had two older brothers, and the Battle of the Toast was a war to see who would get the most toast for breakfast. It was a silly thing; none of us needed more than a couple slices of toast with jam or peanut butter, but none of us ever thought about what we needed, or even what we wanted. Instead we only thought about what "the other guy" was getting. And our desires were defined by what "the other guy" had. Thus, if my brother ate four pieces of toast, then I just had to have four pieces of toast. Didn't matter if I was already full; I had to keep up.
Eventually, Mom put a stop to the Battle of the Toast by carefully counting out how many slices of bread she toasted, and limiting us to two slices apiece. Seems kind of silly now, doesn't it?
But this is the cost of envy -- the cost of looking at the other person and comparing what I have to what they have. I stop thinking about what is good (or even what is healthy) and I just have to have what they have. It makes no difference if I need it, makes no difference if it is good for me. I want it.
Just like Peter tells us to put aside deceit, malice, hypocrisy, and slander, he also tells us (1 Peter 2:1) to put aside envy. Envy is the mentality behind the Battle of the Toast -- it is the desire for what someone else has. And we will never be healthy as long as we measure our life and our possessions in comparison to what someone else has.
Have you ever seen an underground home? That was one of the most fascinating things I saw when I was in North Africa: dwellings which were essentially nothing more than caves dug into the hillside. This is not an uncommon thing, near the edges of the Sahara Desert; in the daytime it gets very hot, and at night it gets very cold, so an underground dwelling helps to soften both extremes, staying cooler in the day and warmer at night.
I remember visiting one of these underground homes when I was taking a three-day "tour" of the country. The tour group parked on the roadside and hiked up to this home where a woman was sitting in a little cul-de-sac grinding out grain. Of course, I wasn't fooled; I understood that she had an arrangement with the tour guide. When she saw the tour van park, she immediately headed for the grinding wheel so we could see her "doing her daily grinding." But even though it was a "show," I had done enough reading to know that this really was how the people lived.
We looked around the "house" and saw nothing but a few cooking utensils, and two or three rough matresses in cul-de-sacs which served as bedrooms for the woman and her family. They had virtually no possessions.
It caused me to think about how much I take for granted. I own so many things, and yet, I have to ask myself if my happiness is dependant on these things. If a fire destroyed everything I own tonight, would my life be any less joyous tomorrow? How would I survive living a life with so few possessions?
The other thing I kept thinking about was this: everything I've read and heard about these families suggests that they truly are content with what they have, although it is not very much at all. What is their secret? I think their secret may be far simpler than we think. Their secret is that they don't know any other way of life. The natural human tendency is to compare ourselves and our lifestyle with those around us. This is the source of our discontent. If we had nothing else to compare to, we could be content with virtually nothing.
I admire the Apostle Paul, who wrote in Philippians:
The thing that is amazing is not so much that he knows contentment; the amazing thing is that he has tasted both wealth and poverty, and still knows contentment.