Posted tagged ‘Faith’

Back Issues

April 11, 2024

“Even so, the body is not made up of one part but of many.” (1 Corinthians 12:14)

I have the mind of an 18-year-old but the back of a 70-year-old. Translated, that means I can do just about anything…run a marathon, climb Pike’s Peak, build a house…in my mind! In reality, I now can only run a marathon or climb Pike’s Peak if there happened to be a video game or a game app that would have features such as those things.

I could never build a house in any universe, regardless of my youthful mind.

Backs are touchy. They affect everything else that’s happening to you. The first thing in the morning, a back is like a wake-up call as you roll out of bed, reminding you that it’s still attached to you like a bad teenager’s pimple. As you bend to pick up a box, it’s whispering to you, “Don’t do it! Don’t do it!” As you begin to chuckle at something, Barney Fife does in an episode of The Andy Griffith Show, it pinches you back to sensibility.

When a back gets out of whack, it’s not a quick fix to return to health. And the thing is, when you favor your back, it begins to take a toll on other parts of your body that are being relied on more than normal.

It’s not a mistake that “back” rhymes with “whack” and “quack.”

Churches with back issues have a long road to recovery. To be clear, I’m not talking about the wooden pews constructed in the 1800s with an extra dose of hardness pounded into the wood. I’m talking about a church with 10% of its members carrying 80% of the load. They are the ones that a church depends upon to the point of unhealthiness. Like the workers on a moving van, after a few years they have to start wearing special back protection braces to help them keep going. In the ministry of a church, the equivalent of a back brace is something that gets them through another week of overwhelming responsibilities, such as an event, thought pattern, or practice that is totally unconnected to the heavy load of ministry.

Many of the “back people” come to a point where they realize people see them as laborers for the church instead of servants of the Lord. The realization is crushing, and causes disillusionment and exit. Instead of seeing a path back towards health, they see a potholed road that is going to continue to jar and bring hurt to their lives.

On the other hand, the church needs “backs” but healthy backs. Backs that can be depended upon but not overtaxed. Backs that can not just sit around but also should have “carry limits.” They should be the lifters, not just laborers. Too many “backs” in the church are expected to take care of things and people but are seldom cared for by the rest of the Body. And so they wear out, rupture a disc, or experience day-by-day pain.

When Paul gave us the picture of the Body of Christ functioning like the human body, it communicated important principles and wise concepts. No part of the Body of Christ is less important than any other part. And… no part should be expected to be all things.

This 70-year-old still thinks young but is now wise enough to know I can’t do “young things.”

Artificial Fear

March 3, 2024

“But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” (Daniel 3:18)

Just like my parents were, I’m a sugar-and-cream coffee guy. I learned it from them. Recently, at my neighborhood Starbucks (where I’m writing this on the last stool on the right), I decided to switch from my raw sugar and try one of the artificial sweeteners. One of the baristas, who I always banter back and forth with, said, “Bill, that stuff will give you brain cancer.”

I responded with, “It’s only one time. I don’t think I’ll get brain cancer from having one packet of sweetener.

“Just saying,” she said, a smile on her face. “They’ve done studies, you know.”

Another barista, with a somber tone, added, “Pretty much everything will give you cancer.”

I took my mug back to my stool and sipped on death for a few minutes. But it just didn’t taste right. It was more bitter than bitter and seemed to lay in my mouth like a spoonful of Castor Oil. After a few minutes, I gave in to my fear and went back for a fresh cup…with my usual raw sugar. The barista smiled at me and chuckled. It was as if she had triumphed over my insecurities and fears.

Someone once said, “Fear asks ‘what if.’ Faith says ‘even if.'” Those are great words, encouraging words. So often we allow a fear to grow from a seed to a full blown weed patch. A thought takes root and takes hold of our mind, our actions and inactions and faith gets defeated. We get mixed up on what the Book of Wisdom tells us and become convinced that we walk by sight and not by faith.

Three men, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, faced death because of their faith in God. The penalty for their unwavering commitment was to be cast into a fiery furnace and burned up. Despite what was ahead, they said the words “…even if…”

Getting to the “even ifs” in the midst of our challenges is hard to do. It’s like convincing a child who is learning how to swim that he can float on his back if he trusts in what the swimming instructor is saying. Until he can be convinced to surrender, he will splash and thrash in the water, afraid to try what will keep him afloat.

To clarify, God also inserted common sense and wisdom into our DNA. Having faith does not mean being stupid. Having faith does not mean I should jump out of a plane without a parachute because I believe God will take on the responsibility of being my parachute. Faith and wisdom are not oil and water that don’t mix well together.

I’m back on my stool this morning, finishing these thoughts. I thought about conquering my fear of artificial sweeteners and having a packet mixed into my Pike Place but decided against it, not because of my fear of brain cancer but because I simply don’t like it. I figured out that it was a decision that didn’t depend on faith. It’s just what my taste buds communicated to me.

Maybe I should pray, “Lord, give me the ability to drink my coffee black.” However, that might be stepping into the land of the ludicrous.

Faith Blame

February 16, 2024

“When he had gone indoors, the blind men came to him, and he asked them, ‘Do you believe that I am able to do this?’

‘Yes, Lord,’ they replied.

 Then he touched their eyes and said, ‘According to your faith let it be done to you’;  and their sight was restored. Jesus warned them sternly, ‘See that no one knows about this.’ “(Matthew 9:28-30)

Recently, my wife told me about a sermon she had heard that touched a nerve. Without giving you the long version, I’ll summarize. It revolved around a person who was a part of a church, had cancer, and died. It may have only been one person, or it may have been several, whose cold-hearted analysis was, “Guess he didn’t have enough faith!”

It was a spiritual copout, a way of rationalizing why cancer, or any other disease, isn’t always defeated. Quite honestly, it’s a way for some followers of the Great Physician to protect part of their theology. Here’s the rub. There is nothing wrong with believing that Jesus heals. He does. But when healing doesn’t happen, maybe in the way we perceive it should, it’s bad theology to put the blame on the wounded.

It’s also bad theology to blame the community of faith for not having enough faith, to judge it as being lacking in prayer. After all, when a church loses one of its people, it is just as much a time of grieving for them, a wound to the fellowship, as it is for the family of the departed.

I was looking at “faith situations” in the Gospel of Matthew. Whenever Jesus mentions a lack of faith, he’s talking to His disciples, the very ones to are with Him 24-7. Whenever he mentions faith as what has healed someone, it is in connection with one of the least of these. For instance, Matthew 9 is ripe with stories of healing faith. They include a group of men who bring a paralyzed man to Jesus, a woman with an ongoing female malady, the blind, and the mute. In each situation, Jesus affirms them for their faith.

On the other hand, His disciples are questioned for their lack of faith when it comes to their fears during the storm that descends on the lake that they are sailing across, Simon Peter’s fear in the midst of walking on the water, and when the disciples ask Him why they couldn’t drive out a demon. Jesus seems to shake His head in the moments the disciples trust more in the power of nature than in His power.

Still, trying to wrap our arms around the framework of faith is like trying to catch the wind. It’s mysterious, not able to be packaged, and not restricted by our whims or the moments we spiritually high.

To use the “lack of faith” card to evaluate why someone isn’t healed, in my mind, falls into the same category as the disciples’ debate about who of them would be greatest in the Kingdom of God. It misses the point.

Jesus offers hope, peace, and an eternal relationship. The Holy Spirit comforts us in times of need. What an encouragement it is for someone who is struggling to know that his community of faith offers hope, peace, and comfort. What an encouragement for a discouraged soul to know that he is not alone and that his brothers and sisters are with him.

For someone to blame a loss on a person’s lack of faith is the spiritualized Christian way of really saying, “It sucks to be you!” It’s standing above the hurting instead of standing with them.

Kidney Stone

February 15, 2024

“Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me.” (2 Corinthians 12:7)

I’ve been blessed with fairly decent health my whole life. Oh, there was the gallbladder episode, which made it a “past tense” part of my abdomen. And there was a broken jaw as a result of a first baseman not catching the softball as I stepped on the base. Other than those memorable experiences I’ve traveled the first 70 years missing the “potholes of life.”

Until this week, when I was in such excruciating pain that Carol drove me to the Emergency Room at 5:30 in the morning. Even a broken jaw didn’t compare with it. If I could, I would have knocked myself silly and laid on the couch unconscious.

A kidney stone.

There’s always been conjecture about the thorn in Paul’s side. Some think it was a person tormenting him. (We’ve all had people like that!) Others think it was some kind of situation that worried him sick. With my kidney stone affliction, my view of it has been altered. I know, I know, it’s a confusing verse. I mean…how was Paul bordering on being conceited…and what about this Satan messenger?

Sometimes, however, the thorns of life cause us to step back and see how blessed we are. For instance, I flew back from Ohio on Sunday. It had been a wonderful week of visiting my sister, and also meeting up with my brother. Thank the Lord that the misery in my tummy didn’t begin until I had returned. Small blessings are easily not seen until later.

Suffering and pain are a part of life. My assurance, however, is that the Lord is with me all the time and all the way. He goes before me and follows after me. No matter what kind of pain or suffering God is with each one of us.

No matter how much of the pain and complications are the result of our bad decisions (Can you say bad diet?), the Lord is with us. In fact, my uninvited visitor had been invited in a boatload of times as a result of my food and drink choices. Even though it was only 3mm in size, it felt like it was a snowball creating an avalanche of misery.

Just like in life, where the accumulation of our transgressions suddenly become too much and life takes on an emergency status. Even in the muck of our mess, the Lord is with us. His mercy is not dependent upon my perfection.

I still wonder, though, was it a kidney stone that was bugging Paul?

Cringing At The Disinterest in Being Responsible

February 10, 2024

I was at a high school basketball game last night in southern Ohio. My sister’s grandson, a senior point guard, was playing and I had flown back from Colorado to see a couple of his final games. Unfortunately, we got to the school so early that we saw almost all of the JV game first. I say u nfortunate because the two referees officiating the junior varsity game looked disinterested in their responsibility.

Understand that my view of the situation was greatly affected by the fact that I wore the black-and-white stripes for 16 years, blowing the whistle at high school and small college contests. Not that I was a great official. Above average would best describe me, but all those years of doing games, watching games, and being instructed on the art of calling games has given me an eye for what is professional, what are good mechanics, and what good communication entails.

One of the JV officials wore black sweat pants and shot baskets during timeouts. Those are two things that are okay at a YMCA 2nd grade game…sometimes, but not a high school JV game. Everytime he blew his whistle, which wasn’t often, it was like a mystery about to be revealed. His partner looked like he was about to fall asleep. His walk to the scorer’s table after calling a foul made him look about as energetic as Floyd the Barber from Mayberry, North Carolina.

The game wasn’t close, which would also be the adjective to describe where each of them was in terms of positioning to be able to call the game. The varsity officials were on the other end of the spectrum, consistent, in good position, great communication, and…they looked like they wanted to be there.

Call me critical. Tell me I’m overreacting, but being disinterested in being responsible is something that makes me grind my teeth. Covid-19 and the pandemic get blamed for causing it. That’s a cop-out. It’s been around since Adam, morphing into different appearances and arenas. Jesus’ disciples had moments of disinterest in being responsible. Paul criticizes the Corinthian church for it in the midst of his instruction about observing the Lord’s Supper. Some were coming to the gathering early and gorging themselves without thinking of the meaning of the meal, and others couldn’t get there until later.

Disinterest in responsibility has rained down in every area of life. There aren’t many Mother Teresas around these days who genuinely (That means no whining!) see the poor, diseased, and downtrodden as their responsibility. Heartfelt responsibility is at a premium.

Just as the three varsity officials showed professionalism and interest, let me go in the other direction. I know of numerous teachers who are passionate about teaching their students. Long hours of preparation do not phase them, even when the physical and mental weariness is evident. I know pastors who aren’t disgruntled by late-night calls, some of which are from families in crisis and others from people who just have an axe to grind. I know of numerous people in the workplace (restaurants, office buildings, bus drivers, custodial staff, security officers) who keep their places up and running. When one of them calls in sick, the others look confused and disoriented. I know of neighbors who look out for one another even though no one has designated that responsibility to them. I know of faithful people of prayers who cry out to the Lord for those who are suffering, and they have told them they would pray for them.

Here’s the thing. Disinterest in responsibility is as easy to detect as mayonnaise on peanut butter. On the other hand, total investment in responsibility stands out like Pike’s Peak on the Front Range of Colorado.

Gospel Pollution

January 31, 2024

“Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20)

Jesus’ last command and commission to His disciples concerned taking the good news of God’s grace, forgiveness, and salvation to the world. It’s the basis for a number of mission organizations. As is our human nature; however, once in a while, a great message is crammed into a dumb idea. For example…

In the Northern Ireland area of County Londonderry, environmentalists have been recovering thousands of plastic bottles the past few years that have been dumped into the River Bann. Each of the bottles contains a Bible verse inside the bottle. The spreading of the Word has, in essence, been bad for the environment. The Good News is leaving a bad taste in the mouths of those concerned with the habitat.

Does a passion for spreading the Gospel trump the need to protect God’s creation? That’s a good question for a small group to discuss. One of those hot topics that has the potential to rise to the surface the opinions and beliefs of people.

The element that is often forgotten in the conversation is integrity. Living out the Great Commission of Jesus with integrity is more Christ-like than an anonymous message of scripture in a plastic bottle that proclaims the name of Jesus. If you want to go deeper with this, the message is often tainted by the messenger. We convey the message of a “plastic Jesus” instead of a heartfelt desire to share what He means to us.

Bottom line: What drew me, and continues to draw me, to Jesus are the messages of various Christians’ lives that display integrity, grace, humbleness, mercy, servanthood, and love. Consistency in a person’s walk brings validity to the message.

So what would Jesus do? I envision Jesus conversing with people…as he went about wading through the water and mud of the River Bann, picking up plastic bottles and other trash.

My Sunday Best

January 27, 2024

“But the father said to his servants, “Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.” (Luke 15:22)

I’d put my bowtie on each Sunday morning, drape it with a brown tweed sport coat, attach it to a white button-down dress shirt, and finish the look with the only pair of dress pants I owned (Or my parents owned that were hanging in my closet!), and shiny black Florsheim shoes that made your feet feel like they were being smothered. It was church time, and our family always wore our Sunday best.

It was the only time during the entire week that my mom wore a hat and the only time my brother and I were expected to suffer for three hours in the torture of looking our best for the Lord. Our family of five crammed into the Ford and made the five-minute drive to church, the three kids captured in the backseat, Dad driving, and Mom supervising the backseat inmates.

Wearing our Sunday best was the non-negotiable. We were so accustomed to it that we never even thought of questioning it, even considered the strategy of whining and pouting. By the time I was in the fifth grade, I had retired the bowtie to the back of the bottom dresser drawer and upgraded to a necktie. After all, in our church (First Baptist Church of Williamstown, West Virginia) fifth-grade boys could be junior ushers for the Sunday morning worship service, handing out bulletins and taking up the offering. A suit and necktie were the required attire for such a position.

I’m not sure if the theology of wearing our Sunday best was understandable at that point. To come to church looking sloppy was vaguely connected to being more like the prodigal son of the Bible, wayward and lost from the loving arms of God. For the men, even wearing a suit but no tie was a dip toward depravity.

Since those growing-up years, things have changed on Sunday mornings. Wearing a suit is now more an identifier of the wearer’s generation than a desire to please the Lord. Jeans and a button-down shirt not tucked into the pants is now the norm. Or wearing a jersey of one’s favorite professional sports team, a tee shirt bought at the last rock concert, or Hello Kitty attire.

We now reside in an in-between time where some of the worshippers come dressed to the max while others look as if they just rolled out of bed. I’m an in-betweener. If I’m speaking, I wear Land’s End slacks and a dress shirt, but if I’m pew-sitting, I’m “jeaning.”

The thing many of us from the Sunday-best generation are still nervous about is the scriptural truth that tells us that God gives His best to us, regardless of what we’re willing to give Him. The story of the prodigal son blows us away. The kid who disrespected his father, walked away, and rebelled against the one who had blessed him and raised him is given “the best” when he comes to his senses and returns.

In essence, God gives His Sunday best to us no matter who we are or aren’t. Bowties, neckties, no ties, tie-dyed…He gives His best, not because of who we are but because He wants, even hungers, for our best.

No divine hand-me-downs. No sloppy seconds. Only the best.

Not what we deserve, but rather what He desires for us.

Mis-naming

January 20, 2024

A few years ago, I discovered that my parents almost named me Silas Dean Wolfe instead of William Dean Wolfe. Silas was the name of one of my grandfathers, who had been killed in a mining accident when my dad was in his growing-up years. Not knowing about my “other name” until I was in my fifties made me consider the possibilities. Would a name change have made any difference?

On the opposite side of the situation, would someone else assuming my name make a difference? Whereas, if I would have been christened “Silas Dean’ would not have altered my life course, if a different person took on my name after all these years would have been different, even suspicious.

It would be like a Chevy Chevette masquerading as a Corvette. Some of the same letters would be used but the car would be a real discouragement.

Thus, it is with the name “evangelical.” What it meant a few decades ago has been replaced with something uncomfortable and shaped differently. (Picture the Chevette with a Corvette name taped onto the car’s back panel.) The uncomfortableness can be seen in how the media uses the term and also in some of those who identify themselves with the term.

The roots of the word “evangelical” come from the Greek word “euangelion”, which means “the good news” or “gospel.” It emphasizes the proclamation of Jesus and the good news that He offers of eternal life.

In recent years, it has morphed into an identifier of a conservative political group with strong ties to the Republican Party. In the recent Iowa political primary, many of the evangelicals openly admit that they are not connected to any community of faith. In essence, the political party that they have invested their money and time into is their church.

The effect is that to be an evangelical is viewed as a defining label of one’s political views and only slightly connected to the gospel of Christ. Even certain broadcasters will place a sneer into the prouncing of the word. The interesting thing is that the National Association of Evangelicals, founded in 1942, was meant to be a moderate group placed between two factions of conservatives and liberals.

Over the years, things have changed. The good news is now viewed with suspicion. Let me say it again. The good news of grace, peace, love, salvation, and forgiveness of God is now viewed with suspicion.

Losing All Our Toys In Order To Find Our Way

March 19, 2020

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                               March 19, 2020

                             

I first met Bill Dohner at a SonLife conference in Chicago in the early days of 1999. I was talking to a pastoral search committee from Colorado Springs, trying to discern God’s leading. He sat down beside me before our first workshop and we did introductions. 

“I’m Bill from Mason, Michigan.”

“Good to meet you, Bill! I’m Bill from Colorado Springs.”

It didn’t seem like a coincidence. As we became more acquainted, he told me his story. At that time he was working at Cook Communications, but it had been a long journey getting there.

He and his wife, Jeanie, had lived in Tennessee, where Bill’s employment situation had been very lucrative. In his own words, he told me, “We had all the toys! A boat, Ski-do’s, motorcycles, nice cars…all the toys we didn’t need.”

And then his employment situation changed drastically and he was looking for a new job. He thought it would be easy to find one, maybe have to take a reduction in pay, but he wasn’t worried about it. However, no new position was offered. He’d interview and not be the choice. They went month after month, burning through their savings and wondering why God was doing this?

They began selling off their “toys” and realizing that their lives had become a bit out of balance. When their last “toy” was sold, Bill received a call from Promisekeepers, based in Colorado, and was offered a position with the ministry. 

He said to me, “Bill, I’m not saying that this needs to be everybody’s experience, but, for us, we needed to lose our toys before we could see our true Hope.” 

Sometimes there needs to be some kind of loss before we can gain. Sometimes our “toys”, whatever they may be, need to disappear in order for us to become grounded again. Sometimes we trust more in our “toys” than we do in our Shepherd.

Bill’s journey became more and more rooted in faith. Promisekeepers had a cut in staff and that’s when he went to Cook. After being at Cook for a few years his whole department was eliminated and he took a position with Family Ministries in Little Rock. Before the position was even offered to him in Little Rock, he and Jeanie had signed a lease for a house.

Someone from Family Ministries said to him, “Wait a minute! You signed a lease before we even offered you the job?”

“Sure! We knew this was where God wanted us to be and we figured he’d catch you up to it.”

The “F” Word

June 26, 2017

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                       June 26, 2017

My granddaughter recently used the “F” word. Her mom’s eyebrows hit the ceiling! She had used it in reference to Satan. Instead of “Defeat Satan”, or “Stand up to the devil!” she had used the “F” word as a verb in front of Satan. When my daughter’s eyebrows came back down from the rafters she asked her where she had heard that word. It had floated out of one of her kindergarten classmate’s lips, and she had heard it a few other times in other places.

My daughter controlled herself and taught her that there are certain words that are not appropriate to use. In a few years her daughter might ask her mom a follow-up question. “Mom, if it’s not appropriate why do I hear it being said so much?”

The question might cause her mom to have to think about the answer a good bit.

The “F” word is now the over-used expletive that seems to be accepted by many. Robin said, “Holy Cow, Batman!” My grandfather said “Lord, have mercy!” Beaver Cleaver said, “Gosh, Wally!” Now the “F” word is the word of emphasis, the word of anger, and the word that seems to flow fluidly from the lips of many people.

I remember using it one time my sophomore year of high school for no apparent reason in talking to my friend Dave Hughes. I called him the “F” word with the maternal pronoun in front of it. I was having an exaggerated moment of machoism and I thought it would make me seem taller than my 5’2’ stature. I remember his look of dismay because he knew it was out of character for me. My moment of a verbally raised testosterone level quickly passed and I felt stupid. Dave Hughes was forgiving and ended up being my best man about nine years later.

I figured out that the “F” word didn’t define me, or make me seem tougher and meaner. I was who I was, and my vocabulary was prone to stay on the more positive end of the spectrum.

I could put a list of reasons why people seem to use the “F” word more these days, but I’m not sure that would be helpful. I prefer to focus on the “F” words of scripture that mean more to me and are more about hope, promise, and building up.

Words that come to mind are “faith” and “faithfulness.” My faith in Jesus has set me “free” to be one of his “followers.” I hear the other “F” word often used in frustrated reaction to failure. My “faith” however assures me that Christ’s victory on the cross “finished” it! And now I cherish the “fellowship” that I enjoy with the other “followers.”

Don’t think too highly of me, however! I still use the word “Crap!” from time to time, usually after a miss a jump shot playing basketball, but never in reference to someone else’ s character.

Just some “food” for thought! What kind of “fruit” is coming from my tongue?