Krissi

There seems to be eras of hyper-concentration on Christ's return. I'm not only thinking of the occasional groups of sincere Christians who would gather on hills dressed in white ... until they figured out He wasn't coming right then, but those who focus on eschatology, numerology and signs of His coming again. The prophetic edge of today's church is ramping up to one of those eschatological fervors now. They may be right or it may be another false alarm. Only God knows. To be sober and self-controlled has two meanings. First, it has to do with our ethical behavior, that is, our character. Secondly, it has to do with our tendency to look at current events and assert God's imminent return. To those who live as if He will never return, the admonition is to be alert and watchful; to those who imagine He's returning at a particular time/place, the admonition is to be circumspect.

Most of these parables have to do with how we relate to the secular society that surrounds us. We can withdraw into our homes and families, shutting out "them" as much as possible. If we do this, we concentrate on our children and extended families, drawing a metaphorical circle around ourselves, caring little except in our rhetoric for those outside. The is the "focus on the family" mentality, one that does little evangelizing and is, in essence, self-loving. We can, on the other extreme, plunge into the culture absorbing it's values, watching the television and Internet personalities, sending kids to government-run schools, trying to fit in except in faith. If we do this, our faith becomes a tiny and walled aspect of our personalities. We do not evangelize for our distinction from the secular culture is nil. And then, there are those who strike a middle ground between the two extremes of separation and inclusion. We cannot be light if we are just another "point of light" in a culture in which everyone wants to shine, secular or Christian. We cannot be as salt if we're swimming in saline waters. I think there's a way of separating ourselves from society without becoming myopically and selfishly focused on our families, which are mere proxies for oneself, a form of egoism and narcissism.

Where in your region does the harvest seem most ripe, that is, where people are most receptive to the gospel? I live near military bases. As the Western wars against Russia and China heat up, the real threat of having to fight is dawning on the men and women in the military, most of whom have never seen combat. Perhaps they are thinking of their own potential deaths and the need for eternal life. As the old saying goes, "There are no atheists in foxholes." Furthermore, the US has already sent thousands of military men/women to fight in the war in Israel between Jews and Muslims. I would think that the religious and eschatological dimension of this war along with the possibility of dying in it would cause militarymen/women to consider more seriously their own salvation. I rarely talk to military people, however. Do you see yourself mainly as a sower or a reaper? Why is there such a shortage of reapers? Would you be willing to be a reaper, if Jesus helps you? I see myself as a reaper as it is. Sowing takes more patience than I possess! Since I live almost exclusively among secular people, by His grace opportunities arise to share the gospel. Reaping requires a confidence in the salvific message of Jesus. It requires a real sensitivity to His Spirit's prompting as to when and how to share the gospel. It's hard to do which is one reason why there's a shortage of reapers.

LIke a thief, Christ's second coming will be stealthy, unexpected and (for unbelievers) unwelcome. Believers, however, leave their windows open for the "thief." They want to be surprised and are eager for the end to come. I don't agree that Jesus will come during times of peace, not war -- it seems that the element of surprise can be maintained during any time of life and any season of political turmoil. Frankly, I've always thought of the end times as a crescendo of horrors culminating in the rapture, a welcome respite.

Yesterday, I copied a quote from Whitfield (first great awakening in the United States) which expresses the attitude Christians should have toward evangelism: "When I wake I am planning to save souls. When I sleep I am dreaming of saving souls and my whole heart's desire is to save souls." Whitfield's is a high bar to leap. This incessant, passionate desire to save every soul we meet is a gift of God, but one we also must foster in ourselves. Jesus was heartbroken over his sheep because He knew their future, the decisions they'd make and their eternal destiny. The path is narrow, after all. Few find it. Those who do find the narrow path are celebrated by the angels and those who do not find the it are grieved, which is what Jesus is doing. I don't have to stretch very far to find unbelievers. My family is lost. I am praying for my dying father now who still hasn't accepted Him. My children are unbelievers and the one who tentatively accepted Christ is falling away. Almost everyone from my past is an unbeliever. I'm surrounded! So, the question is this: Do I grieve enough? Do I sincerely grieve their eternal damnation? Deeply and viscerally grieve? I do wonder. If I felt as Jesus feels, I'd be paralyzed with fear and pain -- I have tempered any grief with daily business and thoughts. My love for the lost has been watered down, lesser-than it should be. Forgive me, Lord.

How will Christ bring with him those believers who have previously died? According to Matthew 25:31, who will also will accompany Christ when he returns? How will he do it? I'm not sure but it's interesting that the angelic order is involved and that it's not secretive, but triumphant. When Christ returns to earth to gather those alive at that time, He will bring with Him those who have died (asleep). The image I have is of an army of people with resurrected or perfected bodies following the angels and Christ Himself. But, this is just my imagination!

God wants our hearts, not our superficial, shallow pretense of the Christian life. He wants people who evangelize and give of themselves to others, not people who self-serve in their own family puddles and church groups. He wants people who know they're sinful at core, not people who think of themselves as superior. Jesus loved the broken. He ate with the outcasts. He loved them. Jesus IS the doctor. He bandages the souls of the spiritually wounded. He loves them.

I do not understand why Jesus referred to Himself as the Son of Man and not Son of God or Christ. Logically, this phrase emphasizes his humanity and identification with ordinary people. It may suggest that He's the epitome/perfection of humanity, too. Jesus made a point to identify Himself with prophetic passages in the Old Testament including names given to events and powers. This includes "Son of Man." Jesus purposely claimed that title for Himself on several occasions. He seemed to be making a point that's lost on me, but was obvious to the listener who tore his robes in horror. Obviously, then, something about the title "Son of Man," was far more suggestive and offensive than it is today. To be honest with you, I really don't understand what "Son of Man" means. The more I think about it, the less I understand.

I'm thinking about the preferred and rejected castes of people in today's society, now. We're such a superficial society -- appearance matters much and people who are physically unattractive are shunned; we're also a materialistic society which means people with money are preferred over those who struggle to make ends meet. Power separates, too -- I've seen slimy Congressmen feted as if they're noblemen. Ditto with reporters. Though the entire online "influencer" group revolts me, most people seem attracted to the glitz and Hollywoodishness of the media. They spend their time with their faces buried in their phones, preferring virtual relationships to real ones. Does our society walk past the homeless vets with one leg? Do people look the other way when teenage children fight in the streets or drug addicts struggle to stand? yes. What about me? Do I ignore or reject the dispossessed, ugly and powerless? At times, I do. I'm afraid of some of them, honestly, and ... well, the problem is just so big. There are homeless, mentally ill and drug-addicted people everywhere and it's difficult to know where to start. It's too easy to hand them a dollar bill and walk away without talking to them as if they were interesting people worthy of a conversation. To sum: I don't think my love for them is much better than the priest or the Levite had for the beaten man. But they are my neighbor, according to Jesus. I'm responsible for their care. -- Having said this, I wonder if the people with whom I "associate" at church or other places are as needy as the beaten man in the parable, in other ways. Lately, I've noticed great suffering among my peers. It seems to be increasing. We're like frogs slowly boiled, getting used to a certain level of pain and then having that level increased, incrementally. The pain never ends. This would not have been normal a generation ago, or two, but it has become normal now. I'm not one to predict the endtimes, but it does seem like social relations are spiraling out of control. What do you do when the primary cause of social suffering is government policies? Do you treat the wounds but leave the cause alone? This era includes a widening separation between those who champion the policies of the government and those who suffer from and pay for those policies. It's an unstable situation that can't continue forever.

Why did Jesus give his disciples the Parables of the Talents and Minas? Jesus' motivation? I'm not certain but the impact of these parables has been to motivate Christians to do more with what they have in this life, less so in the next. How are you using the “talents” Jesus has given you? I'm not, frankly. I'm in a holding pattern. I'm doing things I detest which build character in me. I pray to be released and to move onto something more than this. I pray to use both the natural and supernatural gifts He has given me, and perhaps will still give me. So far, this prayer has not been answered. What causes people to “bury” the talents they once used for the Lord? At some times, it's fear or laziness ... at other times, God Himself puts a Christian into a position where talents are buried for many years. His ways are mysterious. If it is not salvation itself, what is the reward for faithfulness? I know this is the wrong answer, but it seems true to me -- the reward for faithfulness is the feeling of accomplishment that accompanies it. It's the "Well done, good and faithful servant ... " moment, that inner sense that moral/character progress has been made. Why does God expect more of greatly gifted people? Does He? Whatever He expects is contingent on Him putting us where He wants us. Sometimes, He puts us where our talents cannot be utilized or even developed. I've read many missionary-sorta stories in which the missionary is inserted into a circumstance where he/she has to do something beyond ability and experience. Only then is total dependence on God required just to get through it. The problem with natural talent is that it easily becomes a fall-back position -- the naturally gifted speaker, for instance, tends to gravitate toward places where he can speak. But God calls us, at times, to minister in circumstances where our natural talents/abilities cannot be exercised. He expects less of us because we are unable to do anything more. Our prayers are for release from these stifling circumstances as well as the strength to get through still another day. Perhaps that's enough for Him?

I have no idea how God "grades" sin or how He thinks about what I've done wrong, but I do have the voice of the Holy Spirit within me who does, in His way, point out particular sins as needing rectification. So, I have no idea if God looks down on sexual sin as "worse" than greed or pride, for example, but I do know that God wants me to be celibate, and so I am. The idea of some sins being worse than others, at all times and all places, makes me uncomfortable. The sins that are pressing problems are those that God is pointing out at that moment and place. These could be sexual sins, but more than likely are not. Paul was celibate. He gave up the sexual aspect of life -- a good and wonderful part of life! -- to concentrate on the ministry. He even suggested that other Christians do the same, that they refrain from marriage and sex in order to put Christ first. The idea behind this is that a wedded couple has split loyalties, to God and to their beloved, and that split-ness within the heart makes it less possible to serve Him wholly. There's a secondary idea that marriage is a lesser form of the Christian life, one for the weak not the strong. Luther, as a monk, fought this idea in the Catholic Church. Catholics, of course, have unmarried clergy because they believe that celibacy is a higher calling than marriage. Protestants "protested" this belief ... Luther eventually married a nun and had many children. The polar opposite of sexual immorality is celibacy, not sexual morality or sex within marriage. Celibacy isn't merely physical, but is a mental state. The latter is hard to attain, not so much sexually, but emotionally. It's difficult to give up the emotional bond of marriage when it's available and desired. Yet, for some, God demands this. For some, God demands celibacy.

Humans should be capable of controlling all sinful urges, but are not. This is because our sin nature, redeemed though it is, is never fully conquered until we die. As Christians, we have the Holy Spirit within us which, for most of us, is more than sufficient to keep our conscience active. Some Christians, however, are tugged by the temptation of **** or by having constant affairs, claiming that they were unable to control those urges. The standard we should reach is absolute purity in thought as well as deed. That's a high standard! People become out of control, even Christians, because we live in a loose society that actually applauds and rewards sexual licentiousness. Many people care about what other people think more than what God thinks -- they are the most vulnerable to sexual temptation. Without society enforcing the idea that sex should remain within the boundaries of marriage, there's nothing to push again, no boundary to try to leap. This may sound counter intuitive, but boundaries exist to be broken in the world. Without boundaries or a sense of right and wrong, people do anything, imagining a consequence-free life. I do not think it is the role of the state to enforce monogamy and sexual purity, but the older divorce laws which recognized adultery as a valid reason for divorce seem more socially beneficial than the no-fault divorce laws of today. It doesn't matter, though. At this point, sexual licentiousness is the norm, and the acceptance of sexually deviant behavior required by the state. Morality has been upended.

I find the idea of an acted parable fascinating but not entirely convincing. If this were the case, then all actions with intended meaning would be parables. For example, Jesus' desire to get away from everyone and pray in solitude to His Father -- this was clearly an act He expected the disciples to mime, so was this, too, an "acted parable?" -- Parable or not, the story is about humility, willing self-abasement and the reordering of status in the Kingdom of God. In God's eyes, the last are first, the humble should be rewarded ... and those who wash feet, elevated in status. -- God is using this story to get me to change the way I think and behave. Though a woman, I don't like kids. Never have. Little cretins irritate me. An hour with a child will do me in! So, in church, I usually tell people that I'll do anything EXCEPT teach kids. Anything! Please, no kids. I'll even wash feet. But that's the point, isn't it? Washing feet today isn't what it was 2000 years ago (though still it would be gross), but is a metaphor for doing the ONE thing I hate the most, which, of course, is what Jesus wants me to be willing to do. For me, washing feet = teaching kids. And Jesus is asking me to be willing and ready to teach your little cretins ... sorry, your precious children. I'm not so noble that I'll volunteer, but if asked, yea, I'll teach your kids, change their poopy diapers and take the rest of the day off to get over the trauma. (I had three children, btw.)

What does it mean to be "sanctified"? In what sense are we "holy" now? In what sense are we in the process of becoming "holy"? What does holiness have to do with our sexuality? All the words that start with "sanct--" have to do with things/idea of being set apart from the world and dedicated solely to God. A sanctuary is a holy place. To be sanctimonious is to be falsely or hypocritically sanctified. Etc. So, to be sanctified is to be like the beautiful, shiny objects on the eucharistic table, objects used and consecrated solely to God. We are holy only in an imaginative sense, that God sees/imagines us to be something that we are not because he sees through the lenses of Christ's sanctifying death on the cross. It is better to say that we're in the process of becoming like Him -- sanctification. Sexuality is one of a gazillion things that trip us up on the path toward holiness, yet it is a big one, though, perhaps because of it's downstream effects. Furthermore, because it so intimately involves another person, sexuality can pull another person into sin. There is somehting qualitatively different about sexual sins though I'm not sure what it is. I just know that people who get off-track sexually tend to leave the faith, that homosexuality, adultery, fornication, **** addiction and other sexual sins seem to derail a Christian's service and lower God's expectations of that person's value in the kingdom.

It's very difficult to know when we should keep on battling through prayer -- "prevailing prayer" -- and when God is simply saying, "NO." God is not obligated to answer our prayers in the affirmative, even prayers that are good, just and according to His word. He sometimes says "NO." Either in this study or another one, I can't recall, Pastor Ralph mentioned the martyrdom of Polycarp, an old man, in his 80s, who refused to renounce God. After Polycarp prayed to survive, he was burned alive at the stake. I can't tell you how much this bothers me. Where was God? Why didn't He answer this faithful man's prayer by rescuing him? If God did not answer Polycarp's prayer, why should I trust Him to answer mine? Polycarp's faith eclipses mine, after all. Both of these parables have "happy" endings. The rude and demanding friend gets his bread -- the socially insensitive widow gets justice from the judge. In both these parables, an individual flouted social norms to get what he/she wanted. In both, an individual was persistent, demanding and willing to be mocked. Perhaps one of the messages of these parables is to be willing to go against etiquette and propriety when pursuing what we think is God's will? I have been praying, persistently, for many years for "X" and many months for "Y", which is taking place in a circumstance that's very threatening to me. I fear God's answer will be "No." I no longer confidently pray for things that are good and biblical because there are too many examples of Christian martyrs and other disappointed Christians who have prayed for the salvation of their loved ones, only to have them die unsaved. My own father is dying now as an atheist. His parents and many people have prayed for him over the years, yet he refuses to believe. Yes, there's free will but I do not know if God will answer these prayers in the next few weeks before he dies. I can only hope. The fact is that persistence IS NOT always rewarded. There's no guarantee that persistence "pays." We cannot expect Him to overrule the situation/circumstance/freewill to answer our prayer, though we can hope He looks down on us with mercy. Pastor Ralph asks what persistence in prayer has developed in me as His disciple: a sense of humility, dread, and a feeling that God is so wholly other that I'll never understand His ways. It has not developed in me a feeling of childlike hope and trust. I have seen Him answer some prayers almost miraculously, and now marvel that He answered this particular prayer but not others. I've even seen Him answer prayer about circumstances that were far more threatening to me than I understood -- He saved me from a danger I didn't perceive. So, God has chosen to be good to me in the past. But, like Polycarp, I don't think I understand Him enough to feel confident that when I'm praying for good things (not to be burned alive, for example) He will answer that prayer with a "YES, good and faithful servant ... I see ... I understand ... I love ... I'm merciful ... and I give."

My elderly father, an old Puritan, does not believe in God but lives, however, according to a very stringent Christian ethic or behavior. He's a moral man, that is. His life has all the heaviness of "living-Christianly" without any joy; without faith, ethical behavior is tedious and repetitive. My father lives by rules. His entire life is defined by do's and don'ts. Rule-keeping, for him, is a very strong motivator. His entire life has been patterned and ritualized from what he wears to the sequence of how he eats. He charts his life on graph paper to make sure he's keeping on the straight-and-narrow. It's too bad we're not Jews for he'd make a fantastic Pharisee! He's dying now. On hospice. In spite of his certain and near death, he keeps up the rules and neglects God. It's tragic. He's an old, rigid man. -- I try to live my life differently, in part out of rebellion. Father believes I overly question authority and rules, that I should simply "submit to what is right." He has a point, but I still think that living to please God is a superior motivator than coloring between the lines. There are times when I wonder if I'm really living to please God. What does it look like, that perfect life of pleasing God? Should all thoughts of Him? What about the straggling thoughts, those of the weather and what to wear, the content of books and needs of others? Does this please God? Pleasing God sounds like an easy goal, but it's a moving target and hard to figure out ... in my wee life, anyway. -- Paul speaks with authority because he's clearly the man in charge. God has put him in a position of authority. I do not think he speaks FOR God, but as Paul, the man, he still has authority within the church.

I think the first misconception has to do with our fear of God's wrath and turning away from us. It's difficult to believe in a good God when life around you, and in you, is so painful, when suffering is relentless, yet ... yet ... God is good. When we pray and ask for relief, and don't get it, we may question God's goodness. This parable teaches us not to do this. It's a difficult lesson. In times of great pain, God is STILL good. A second misconception may have to do with praying amiss. In the midst of suffering, our prayers are often to be relieved of the suffering, to end it quickly and move on. Yet, this is not the prayer we should be praying, perhaps. It could be that that prayer is amiss, that God has purposes in suffering that cause Him to deny such an obvious request. I have wondered, to be honest, if God simply does what He wants in spite of our prayers, that the connection between our prayers and His response is tenuous. Since we could be praying amiss often, not understanding His purposes, He will not answer our prayers ... often. There's no harm in praying amiss. The harm is in not praying, not communicating and not desiring to do His will, no matter how painful.

God provides for our needs. This is a promise. If we believe this promise, we have nothing to worry about other than having less than we desire -- our needs will be met. If we believe this promise, the future is secure from want. If we believe this promise, we're free to give away what we have rather than hoard it as pagans do. Rather than worrying, we're to concentrate on worshiping Him, seeking His will and doing right.

Interesting question! Special speakers are like attending university at the time when the semester turns over and the students get an entire new set of professors for the next few months. It's rather joyous and expectant. I don't see it as offensive to the professors of the prior semester, but simply an opportunity to learn through a new set of eyes. Another analogy is this: How many times have I read a book on a topic and felt I had learned the outline, at least, of that topic, only to read another book which challenges the mental outline I had formed. Reading ten books on a topic, even if eight are mediocre, is better than reading one, great book. It's a question of perspective, and every person/writer/speaker has a new perspective. -- Some more thoughts ... The ground is shifting in the United States and the world right now. For years, denominations were the way we defined who we are and what we believe (I'm Anglican, associated with a bishop in Uganda ...). In the 1940s/50s (not sure) Will Herberg wrote a well-received book about American religiousity entited, "Protestant, Catholic, Jew." Those were the only options then. Note that there was not a "secular" category. Then, the 60s/70s -- these dates are VERY loose -- and the huge parachurch movement hit the world with Campus Crusade, Women's Aglow, etc. Many of these had been started earlier, but grew rapidly at this time. Too, secularity became an acceptable option, one that people weren't afraid to claim publicly. Protestants and Catholics joined forces to battle abortion and other social evils. We were supposed to retain our church membership while engaging the culture on the side with these parachurch groups, however, many people's loyalties slowly shifted. Our money and heart slowly morphed to the parachurch group, away from the church. By the 1980s to current, the parachurch/denominations began to associate with each other on the basis of a perceived common goal or way of looking at life. This was ad hoc and not as well organized as it had been within the parachurch movement. It was also top down, that is, minister/leader driven. This is where we're at now. Much of this is driven by the charismatic edge of Christianity, but certainly not all of it. I wrote this to explain how itinerant preachers work today. They're part of the associations, those loose groups of independent churches, house churches, missionaries, stand-alone small groups that often meet in office buildings, prayer/accountability friends, etc. When a person becomes a known figure in an association, then he/she begins to travel to one church after the next. It's the 19thC frontier again! Seriously, none of these groups, or few of them, have stable pastors. Most have these itinerant pastors or volunteer leaders who survive on "love offerings." This has to be difficult, an act of faith, to survive with a family like this. Most of these roving pastors do not have families, but spouses only. No kiddies. In a way, we're returning to the era on the frontier when denominations and membership mattered little. On the frontier there wasn't much of a choice -- too few people in a geographic area can be picky -- as there was one church for hundreds of miles. Now, we have hundreds of choices, but again few people who think like us. We slice ourselves into narrow tranches and associated with like kind. I'm not saying this is the best way of doing things, but only making an observation that the most exciting, expressive and creative edge of Christianity is now within these associations.

One of the most subtle ways we serve money, not God, is in the concept of tithing. Once we give our obligatory 10%, we feel morally expunged from the charge of materialism ... but we're not. ALL our money/stuff is God's. Not ten-percent of it. Every windfall, no matter how small, should be put before Him and considered a test of our willingness to serve Him exclusively. Another subtle way we serve money is with secret pride. To have money and not let others know, to live simply and frugally, but have bullion hidden in a vault, can be very deceptive for the secretly wealthy Christian. It is true that overt and disgusting displays of money have been eliminated, that the tut-tutting and grandstanding before others has been denied the self, but the secret sense of superiority needs to be dealt with too, and this is quite difficult. Money becomes a hidden source of pride. A third subtle way we serve money can happen when we fear we don't have enough of it, which means we're not trusting God for our provision. Then, we start to hoard or become obsessed with self-sufficiency, homesteading and that sort of thing. This is worshipping money through it's proxies -- land and it's bounty, the self and the ability to provide for oneself/family. I like how Pastor Ralph drew a thick line between serving money and God -- one has to be on either side of that line. Every decision is taken on that line. We either step to one side of it or the other. That's the parable of the two masters. It is very difficult to have wealth and not feel some sort of drawing or attraction to it, or not trust in it rather than God for our provision, or not have a secret pride in the wealth itself. For this reason, I tend to think we should give away everything we have. I know this is utopian and "irresponsible" to many reading this, but if we get to the end of the month with nothing left, we tend to go to God for our provision for the next month. We depend on Him, first, not our own clever investment or capability to predict how much we need to save for the "rainy day."

Persecution is just horrible. It kept me up at night wondering where God was and why He hadn't rescued or delivered me. It was a faith inhibitor as well as a faith enhancer. In the midst of persecution, I found it too easy to focus on myself instead of others; in this way, persecution discouraged "active open service." But ... it also matures me. Nothing looks the same on the other side of intense persecution. I know, personally, that at the beginning I was absolutely devastated, vomiting at night, walking around with a tight stomach and praying endlessly to be delivered. When I wasn't delivered, I was angry at God. I felt abandoned in my moment of need. Yet, I hung on. My faith actually grew, though I didn't realize it, through the persecution. I grew through digging deeper, begging and cajoling God, making deals with Him (of a sort), seeking answers and ferreting out my own sins that were lurking just below the surface. Slowly, God began to deliver and vindicate me. It's not over yet. I don't know why God chooses to mature his children this way. It's borderline cruel, yet, it works. My hunch is that God has no other way of getting us to the next level except with persecution and suffering. The difference between them is that persecution is public and involves another person/government and suffering is more private such as poor health or an abusive marriage. Perhaps -- and I don't know yet personally -- God allows some of his children to be severely persecuted because He intends to use them in a more open way. He's prepping them for what He's about to put them into which could include the jabs and jeers and bigotry of secularists. Those of us who have been "liked" most of our lives find it incredibly difficult to be persecuted, yet this persecution hardens and toughens us for the assignments He has yet to give. It teaches us what putting on the armor is really about. It brings us to our knees in prayers. It causes us to think about angelic armies and the warring spirit. That's the the marker of persecution's finale, by the way -- a warring, fighting spirit, a spirit victorious in Him, a spirit that can't be cowed or belittled by powerful forces in the government or powerful evil people. In this coming age, Christians WILL be persecuted. The time of apathy and ease is over. Not all of us will be persecuted, but those of us for whom God has future assignments that may involve the need for this sort of strength, and those who have the God-given strength to speak out.

Is being wealthy a sin for a Christian? Being wealthy is not a sin but if a person lives in such a way that others know he/she is wealthy, then it is a sin. Secret wealth that's given away according to His will is not a sin -- showy wealth IS a sin. Personally, I regard highly wealthy people suspiciously. They haven't given it away, and the fact that I know of their wealth -- that they've broadcasted their own wealth with their possessions or attitude -- suggests they have a serious character deficit. What was the rich man's actual sin or sinful attitude? According to the parable, the rich man had an abundant harvest. Rather than give it away to the church or others, he spent his time worrying about how he would store and keep it for himself. He was neither "rich toward God," nor rich toward others. His sinful attitude can be seen in his greed, his desire for more-more-more, his pride in building bigger storehouses ... his public display of wealth. How do you sometimes see greed in the people in your neighborhood or social circle? In what ways might greed influence a Christian's behaviors and values? I live in a family who never has debt -- no mortgage, payments of any kind for cars, etc. We give to each other when we have need, sometimes large amounts of money. We live so simply and below our means that we don't have to worry or care about money (we call this "plain living"). Frankly, I think this is one of the best lessons learned from my earthly father who is not a Christian but inherited "Christian values" from his Quaker/Anglican forebears. Very few people share our values about wealth and money. No Christian should have debt. No Christian should care about what others think about their income or social status. No Christian should live near or above his/her means. No Christian should hoard money (an implicit lack of trust in God's provision), but should be willing to give it away ... to give it ALL away, if this is what God demands.

It's extraordinarily difficult to comfort other Christians in the midst of an unfair and unjust persecution. Their pain and suffering tends to consume them -- it's difficult for an outsider, particularly one enjoying relatively pleasant circumstances, to TRULY sympathize and empathize with a persecuted brother or sister. Heart-felt words of comfort don't seem to break through. Sometimes, just sitting next to them in silent prayer is best. Young Timothy was given such a role. He must have been a godly and mature man for his age. Sent to the persecuted Thessalonians, his mission was two-fold: figure out what's going on; comfort as best able.

Seculars (non-Christians) don't have a heavenly Father on which to lean, so they make their way through the world with their elbows. The best of them justify their behavior toward others by saying things like, "It's a zero-sum universe and I'm just getting my share for my family ..." I'm far too familiar with this world, unfortunately. But now that I'm in the Christian realm, I'm rather shocked at the way Christians are taught to lean on God rather than take on the world and win. In this season of warring, it seems imperative that Christians figure out how the "enemy" thinks and OUTTHINK him. Yes, we can rely on God; Yes, there are times when we stand there covered with our spiritual armor and let God fight for us. BUT ... there are also times when God asks us to fight, too, that it's more of a partnership (between grossly unequal partners) that requres us to DO something. And when they reach this point, many Christians find themselves weakened by passive and pacific faith. They've been weakened NOT by God or even by their faith in His provision and care, but by avoiding the smaller battles of life. We need to be strong. Valiant. Soldiers for Christ. There's a balance between a wily, engaged, shrewd way of approaching our secular opponents and an attitude of total dependence on God to do everything for us. Every situation is different. Sometimes we have to depend on God wholly. God's part in this historic drama is different for each of us. I don't claim to have a formula, but as an observer, I believe that the fulcrum needs to be moved, a bit, toward our wise and shrewd engagement with the world. in this way, then, we're to be like the dishonest steward -- never dishonest, but wily, aggressive, plotting and shrewd. -- The only treasures that matter are those of which God approves; those that take labour, prayer, tears, sweat and suffering to achieve. Most of these treasures are not earthly, but have to do with character. -- God tests us with the wee things before he moves us to the next level. He seems to push us to the point of incompetence or failure, and then pull back as we muse and grow past our mistakes. I think this is called the Peter Principle in the corporate world -- this is the theory that people get promoted to the point where they're ineffective and "over their head." The difference between God's testing in wee things and the Peter Principle is that the Peter Principle was deterministic, assuming people would reach an ability peak and NEVER be able to grow beyond it. With God, in contrast, all things are possible. We grow until we die. There's no ceiling with God. God is waiting to see growth in us before He tests us again in a new, more challenging environment. -- People who are promoted on the basis of natural qualities/connections/luck and not spiritual growth will find themselves trapped in the Peter Principle. They'll rise to the point where they are marginally incompetent/competent and then tend to hire less capable people because they're threatened by quality and character. The organization for which they work eventually stymies and declines. Organizations with incompetent leadership quickly develop rules and regulations because the people at the top can't neither be trusted nor will grow -- Max Weber called this "bureaucratization." This is what's happened to our government. Layers of rules and regulations now substitute for quality and character. It's tragic, and, in my wee opinion, will require a disaster or revolution to correct.

I don’t need to justify my desire for rewards. I hope and pray for rewards, both in this life and next. In a sense, there’s nothing I can give Him that merits a reward, but when He sees my humble and not-so-humble efforts I pray He wants to pat my head. Though I want to hear God say, “Attagirl!” when I die, I also want to hear Him praise me now, as I’m struggling to do His will in my little life. There is no conflict in my mind between His free gift of salvation and my desire to NOT freely give my life for nothing. Jesus fulfilled His mission on earth. The fact that He offers us salvation free does not conflict with my desire to live a big and joy-filled life, one of giving as well as taking, always on His narrow path. Suffering may be a large part of the Christian walk but there should be times of joy. I’m praying for more joy. Guiltlessly! Christ rewards pain, sincerity, suffering, evangelistic effort, perseverance, overcoming, selflessness, loving others and loyalty to Him. When the apostles were done with a mission, they returned to Christ to tell Him all about it. I assume He rewarded them with praise. Christ does NOT reward human achievement in the natural. Accountability is another word for obedience. When I obey God in something difficult, I often ask Him to notice my effort. Maybe this is silly, but I want to be like the disciples, to return after an assignment and ask Jesus what He thinks. I don’t want to do things that are meaningless or empty. I want my life to count for something IN HIS EYES.