Please Correct Me When I Need It!!

Think about this word:  REPRIMAND.  How do you like that word?  It certainly carries with it the connotation of something negative.  Do you enjoy a reprimand from your supervisor or from a teacher?  A reprimand can be an embarrassing experience.  If you have ever experienced a public reprimand, you may have had to swallow a lot of pride.  You may have come away from the experience with hurt feelings and some resentment and anger.

In Galatians 2, Paul writes about a public rebuke of Peter.  Paul did this because Peter ‘was not acting in line with the truth of the gospel’.  There is no description of Peter’s reaction to this reprimand, but it had to be embarrassing for him.

Paul uses the word noutheteo in his epistles to tell Christians that we have a responsibility to one another that may be difficult.  This word is translated ‘to admonish, to warn, to counsel, to correct, or to instruct’.  Phrases that help with the meaning of the word are ‘keeping another on the right road, giving advice to another, or putting right what is wrong’.

Romans 15:14 says, ‘Concerning you, my brethren, I myself also am convinced that you yourselves are full of goodness, filled with all knowledge and able also to admonish one another.’  In I Thessalonians 5:14, Paul writes, ‘We urge you, brethren, admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with everyone.’

Personally, I do not relish with joy the thought of receiving an admonition.  But, in my humanness, I know that sometimes I need to be admonished for my own good.  If you are ever admonished or in a situation where you need to give an admonition, how should it be done?

The manner in which an admonition is done is important.  If someone that I deeply respect comes to me (as Paul says, ‘full of goodness, filled with all knowledge’), my response to that respected brother or sister will likely be positive.  When Paul spoke to the Ephesian elders in Acts 20, he said, ‘Therefore be on the alert, remembering that night and day for a period of three years I did not cease to admonish each one with tears.’  Paul’s admonitions were heartfelt (with tears) and constant.

Admonition (correction) can be painful.  But, from time to time, it is necessary.  I heard this in a sermon once:  ‘If we don’t care enough to admonish, we don’t care enough’.  Another saying that speaks to the church’s responsibility for admonition is this:  ‘The church must embrace sinners but the church must confront sinning’!

Prayer:  Father, help me to be willing to accept admonition when I need it.  Help me to be caring enough and courageous enough to give admonition when it is needed.

Terry Brown

Abilene, Texas

Why Wait?

When Jesus heard his friend, Lazarus, was sick, He stayed where He was for two more days. This is a hard story to understand. The Bible says plainly, that Jesus loved Lazarus and his sisters, Mary and Martha. Yet, He waits. By the time they finally get to Bethany, Lazarus has been buried for four days. He comforts Mary and Martha and weeps at his tomb.

But some said, “Could not He who opened the eyes of a blind man, have kept this man from dying?” The Bible clearly teaches that God is sovereign. That all authority in heaven and on earth belong to Jesus. And yet, He lets Lazarus suffer and die and his sisters grieve for days.

Why doesn’t He spare them the pain? This is not the only time these questions come to mind. Why did Job suffer and why was James killed right at the start? Why did Paul have to have a thorn in his flesh? And why is my life harder that it has to be? Was Satan right when he accused Job of serving God for the blessings? 

Jesus said the whole drama at the cemetery in Bethany was “so that the Son of God may be glorified.” Faith is a hard thing, but faith without testing is not faith at all. Faith is what we have to give to God.

Martha, standing near the tomb of her dead brother, says, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” And “I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God.” Faith is hard but we can have it.

When we win and praise Him, that’s good. But when we limp up with a battered life and bruised lips saying “I believe You are the Christ”, well, that’s when He is glorified.

Dear God, I praise you for your great power. You spoke and the universe became. You will speak again and time will end. You are sovereign. I do not understand your ways, but I want to. I am hurting and I cry out for relief, but I trust you. I have nowhere to go but to you. Thank you for hearing my prayer. Please help me through this life and someday take me home. In the name of Jesus, I pray. Amen. 

Paul

Jesus was Right...Right?

I listened as a fellow-minister bared his soul.  Years of struggle, hurt and disappointment had woven anguish and disillusionment into his once beautiful and sweet spirit.  As he pieced together the story of a recent ministry experience, my heart ached for him and for the church that sat in the sound-proof room largely ignorant of what was happening behind closed doors.  I also ached because he described a scene that many of us in ministry - teachers, elders, ministry leaders and ministers - have experienced on more than one occasion.  In fact it’s something that  too many Christians can relate to in some respect.  

“We talk about God, kingdom, ministry, evangelism and serving people like a company selling brooms,” he lamented.  He continued, “We sit in committees, discuss ministry “objectives” and begin our elder’s meetings with prayer only to quickly turn from the “presence of God” to nothing short of gamesmanship in the name of seeking first His kingdom and His righteousness.  We sit three feet from each other but we are really miles apart.  If the church could see us in “action” they would convulse.  Pride, arrogance and subterfuge hang in the air like a bad aroma.”  Then he said, “I think all of our talk about God and what’s best for the body of Christ is nothing short of a delusion that we accept as okay because our hearts are hard and our ears are deaf to the true call of God.  We talk of God but we know nothing of him.  Didn’t the apostle John say, “If you can’t love your brother who have seen, how can you love God whom you have not seen?” 

Perhaps you have heard a similar story.  Perhaps you experienced one and lived to tell about it.  To be people who claim to be involved in the greatest human endeavor on the planet, too often, we look and sound like spiritual misfits who have forgotten what happened at our baptism.  

As he told his story, my mind kept turning to Jesus’ words in Matthew 20:25-28:

But Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Simple…right?  “It shall not be so among you,” Jesus said.  If you want to be heard…if you want to lead…if you want to speak a convincing word about the kingdom whether it be outside or inside the body of Christ, you must be a servant.  A slave!  That’s what the Son of Man came to do.  God in the flesh washed feet.  He got low.  He laid his life – literally! – on the line. 

I ask my friend if his people knew the conversation Jesus had with his disciples in the Matthew text.  “By heart,” he said.

We know a lot of things by heart that are not “in our hearts.”  The spiritual horror show he was living through was not a matter of knowing the word.  Sadly, it was an habitual and conscious choice to circumvent good process and the Lordship of Jesus Christ in the interest of lesser interests parading as what is best for a particular situation.  “The vast majority of the junk you are experiencing”, I remarked, “is because your people have tied their worship to an hour on Sunday - if that - and have no concept of worship as a daily experience including and especially when they meet to discuss matters of the church."  Paul conveyed a similar sentiment in 1 Corinthians 3:1-3.  

We concluded our phone call.  We prayed and I encouraged him a bit more.  In these situations you would like to say, “Just take a spiritual aspirin and it will be better in the morning.”  That’s never been my experience.  No.  It’s spiritual “transformation” that we need.  

Jesus set the bar of excellence a longtime ago.  Any congregation, any leadership, any committee any “anything” that wants to do work in the body of Christ that is noble and healthy will meditate on, pray over, and drive deep into their hands and feet the words of Jesus in Matthew 20.  

Jesus spoke them a few days before he went to the cross.  He must have been serious about them.  We should be, too.  And, when we do, listening, respect, kindness, service, honesty and genuine love will reign in our midst as those who once again remember that our deliberations are at the feet of the One who said, “Be like me.”  

I hope it helps my friend’s situation.  It’s our only viable alternative. 

Father, imprint onto our hearts the truth and blessing of the Son’s words.  Save us from our pride and self-centeredness.  Help us watch over our hearts with all diligence so that envy, anger and maliciousness will not be allowed to rule over us.  May we respond to each other with hearts that are full of the grace of God.  We own nothing.  We acknowledge that you own everything.  Thank you for allowing us to be a part of what you are doing through the gospel every day.  May our words and actions be a joy in your sight now and always.  Amen.

Randy Daugherty

Stephenville, Texas

Walk Two Miles

I’ve been reflecting on the Sermon on the Mount quite a bit lately. I’m in a phase where I am questioning a lot of things about our faith, including who we believe Jesus was and who Jesus calls us to be. I am spending a lot of time returning to the words that came straight from Jesus’ mouth. When was the last time you read the gospel passage about how to treat your enemies?

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5.38-48).

I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had anybody try to sue me and ask me for my shirt. I’ve never had anyone ask me to go a mile with them. I’ve never had someone slap me in the face. I’ve never experienced any of the things that this passage references, and I’m left wondering what to do with it. When I think about the first century Christian who Jesus spoke to, I see that my life is not like their lives. When have I ever experienced oppression? When have I ever been treated like a slave? Well, never. And when I think about the times that I’ve complained about being “persecuted” for my faith—times I was made fun of at school, times people were a little frigid when I saw them in the supermarket, times when people wished to see me fail because I was pursuing righteousness and they didn’t like the guilt that it made them feel, times when I didn’t get invited because people were afraid I might pass judgment—I feel a little sheepish. We’ve made some serious alterations to the definition to the words “persecution” and “oppression.” When I think about the lacerated backs, crucified bodies, flesh ravaged by lions of the first-century Christians, I remember that I have no reason to complain. I can’t justify my complaining and I shouldn’t try. It makes me look like I enjoy being lukewarm and cowardly.  

Often, the explanation I hear for this passage has to do with some kind of passive-aggression, with spiting our “oppressors” by responding well to their oppression. A “heaping burning coals” reference, of sorts (which, just so you know, doesn’t even mean what people think it means). Personally, I don’t think that’s what it could possibly mean, not in the context of first-century Christianity. Smug satisfaction wasn’t worth the risk of crucifixion, I don’t think. And I don’t think Jesus calls us to passive-aggressive behavior or doing the right thing because it will make another person frustrated and bewildered, in any century.

Here’s what I think. Say there was another human being who I disliked so much that I intentionally tried to inflict pain upon them. Say I did everything in my power to hurt them, with everything from slander to gossip to speaking unkindly to them when I came into contact with them. Say I did these things to someone repeatedly and their response was always characterized by kindness and love. Say they never tried to hurt me in return. I would certainly want to know why that was their response. Why aren’t they giving up and being unkind back? What is keeping them going? I’d probably want to ask them. And then they’d have the opportunity to tell me that Jesus Christ is the reason why they do everything they do, including being kind to someone as vicious as me.

When we respond this way in these situations, we give people the opportunity to ask. And they give us the opportunity to tell. When we answer the call in the situations that are the easiest to give in to, we are opening the door to share the gospel. And nothing—not our hurt pride, feelings, or wounded ego—is more important. Jesus’ response to mockery was “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Humanity took His life and, in return, He gave humanity everything. Much like being sent into the arena with lions, that’s beyond heaping burning coals. I hope that my pursuit of the gospel can move so far past vengeance that grace and salvation are all I can see. I want everyone to feel the fullness of that gift, even if it means defying their expectations for my reaction to their unkindness, just so I can share the gift of the gospel with them. And I want to remember that my situations of “persecution” aren’t that bad, anyway. The disciple I claim to be should be able to stand strong in the midst of them.

Erin Daugherty, Abilene Christian University