Crosswalk.com--The Devotional

[Judy Harder]

Free Radicals
by Shawn McEvoy, Crosswalk.com Managing Editor

"Woe to you when all men speak well of you..."
Luke 6:26

The biggest reason I've not yet written the book I've got jangling around in my brain is that deep down I still actually believe a complete impossibility: that hidden between my mind and my keyboard are the magic, just-right words that will get everyone to agree. On everything. Or at least, on everything as I have interpreted it. The words that will get Christians to start treating sinners as they treat themselves, and sinners to stop sinning. Phrases that will be so beautifully turned that neither liberal nor conservative will have aught to say about them. A book that will bring everyone together, and that, most importantly, will not cause anyone to write me nasty letters, claim I am deluded, or call me an idiot.

The irony, of course, is that my goal is already shot. The idea itself is delusional, and pure idiocy. And as the saying goes, if you want everyone to like you, nobody will.

So what should be the goal? Well, truth, sure. And being obedient to simply be the vehicle through which God wants to impart a particular take on His Truth.

But why is that so hard?

I think it could be that we continually re-invent Jesus, who is both uncomplicated and difficult to parse, who already lived here before me, whose words are already recorded for anyone to read. The Lord called Himself 'the Truth' while giving us a version of how to walk on this planet that is so contrary, so impractical, so frustratingly (if I hope to be honest about it) radical.

Referring back to what I already admitted at the top of this devotional, bear with me as I turn Christ's Great Sermon from Luke 6 into something of a dialogue...

Jesus (vs. 26): Woe to you when all men speak well of you, for in the same way their fathers used to treat the false prophets.

Me: Ew. Cut to the chase about what I'm going through, why don't you? So I've set myself on the path of the false prophet, have I? Swell; I knew I couldn't trust myself. But Lord, anything else I say or write or do is going to lead to having enemies, people who are upset with me. What do I do about that?

Jesus (vs. 27-28): Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.

Me: Oh... so it's an action thing instead of an avoidance thing. Pretty mind-boggling concepts. I can't help but notice you didn't say, "bash those jerks' heads in with rightness." Because that feels more natural, Lord. But assuming you're on to something, what does that look like in practice?

Jesus (vs. 29-30): Whoever hits you on the cheek, offer him the other also; and whoever takes away your coat, do not withhold your shirt from him either. Give to everyone who asks of you, and whoever takes away what is yours, do not demand it back.

Me: Ooh, yeah, ya see, the thing is, Lord... there's a lot of people who might take advantage of that. And what in the world are you saying: there might be people who want to hit me in the face?! Is that what I signed up for in following you? I gotta be honest, it doesn't sound like a very comfortable, or practical, way of living in this day and age, this country, this world. Can't you simplify it for me?

Jesus (vs. 31-33): Just as you want people to treat you, treat them in the same way. And if you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same.

Me: Wow, that just blows my mind, Lord. Of course you're right... what is there to separate me at all from anyone else, even the most vile of unrepentant sinners, except how I react to situations and treat people? But don't you know how hard this would be? What am I saying... of course you do..., but... please forgive me for saying so, it just feels like giving some bully my coat, shirt, or other cheek is somehow crazier, tougher, more insane in 21st-century America than first-century Jerusalem. I hate asking, but if I'm gonna commit to this, I gotta know... what's in it for me?

Jesus (vs. 35, 37-38): Love your enemies and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High; for He Himself is kind to ungrateful and evil men... Do not judge and you will not be judged... pardon, and you will be pardoned... Give, and it will be given to you.

Me: Man... and here I was thinking that I was the one who needed to come up with the words that helped us treat sinners as ourselves, and to what ends. You truly have covered all things and lived all things, Lord. Now, I just wonder if I can really do this, Lord, even for the rewards you promise.

Jesus (vs. 46): Why do you call me, "Lord, Lord" and do not do what I say?

Me: Because it's so contrary, upside-down, and radical that it's seriously hard to trust... even to trust you, Lord. Although, if it were easy I guess it wouldn't be called 'trust.' It just seems like there's so much to lose. Help me to be free. Help me to take this risk, to think not of myself, my safety, my comfort first, to love people as you love them. If I may be so bold, it's almost like you were... blessed to be unattached and to have no place to lay your head? Still, despite my handicaps, I want to try, Lord... I want to try.

Intersecting Faith & Life: Now here's a challenge -- but it's straight from the mouth of Christ: the next time you are wronged, hurt, or had something taken from you... can you give the person responsible even more of what they took? And believe you'll somehow be blessed for it? And if not, why not?

Further Reading

John 12:25
Radical Gratitude: Grateful in Tough Times
Someone Worth Losing Everything For
Are You a Radical?

[Judy Harder]

Bravery
by Ryan Duncan, Crosswalk.com Entertainment Editor

When I am afraid, I will put my trust in You. In God, whose word I praise, In God I have put my trust; I shall not be afraid. What can mere man do to me? – Psalms 56:3-4

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be brave. The Bible certainly doesn't lack for courageous leaders like Moses or fearless warriors like David, but what about those people who showed simple bravery? Esther never led anyone into battle, and as a woman in the ancient world her ability to lead was limited, but when you take the time to study her life you realize how much inner strength she must have had. As a young woman she was taken from her home and thrust into an unfamiliar environment. Later, she was forced to intercede in a murder plot at the risk of her life and the life of her cousin.

Her greatest challenge, however, was when the King's advisor Haman sought to massacre the Jewish people. Their only hope of survival lay with Esther's ability to confront the King, an action that could easily get her killed. After all, this was a man who had deposed his old wife on a whim, what would he do to a woman who openly challenged his authority? Reading the verses in chapter 4, I can only imagin how shaken Esther must have been.           

Then Esther told them to reply to Mordecai, "Go, assemble all the Jews who are found in Susa, and fast for me; do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. I and my maidens also will fast in the same way. And thus I will go in to the king, which is not according to the law; and if I perish, I perish." – Esther 4:15-16

We all know how the story ends, the King receives Esther and the Jews are saved from death, but the story of Esther's courage has remained relevant after all these years. I believe God calls Christians to simple acts of bravery every day of our lives. Whether it's standing up for someone else, or having the courage to speak out for what we believe, these simple acts have the power to change the world. Don't be afraid, and don't be downcast, for God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but one of courage.

Intersecting Faith and Life: "Courage is not simply one of the virtues but the form of every virtue at the testing point, which means at the point of highest reality." – C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters

Further Reading   

2 Timothy 1:7

[Judy Harder]

Father's Day: Gone Fishing
by Ryan Duncan, Crosswalk.com Entertainment Editor

Hear, my son, your father's instruction (Prov. 1:.

The first time my father took me fishing I was twelve years old. I suppose this statement could sound misleading, since before that we had certainly played at fishing together. Normally he would take me to a small stream or pond filled with minnows and the occasional catfish, then smile as I reeled one in with my toy fishing pole. This was different; this time he took me north to the boundary waters of Minnesota, to a place called Basswood Lake. The moment I set eyes on that vast track of wilderness, a small part of me knew I was about to grow up.



Basswood itself looked endless, a maze of islands covered in far-reaching green forests. Even by motorboat it took us over an hour to reach our campsite, and once we settled in I became aware of a deep, resounding silence. For several days all we did was fish on that deep blue lake. We made shore lunch out of whatever we caught that day and at night ate s'mores while watching for shooting stars. I hated every minute of it.

What can I say? I was a doughy, twelve-year-old boy who wanted a warm bed and his Super Nintendo. I had never particularly liked fishing anyway, and sitting in a boat for hours was pure agony for me. With my attitude, I'm a little surprised my dad didn't chuck me overboard and be done with it. Instead, he bore it all patiently, and taught me things he'd learned about fishing, cooking, camping, and God.               

It's not easy teaching a boy how to become a man, but somehow my dad found a way. It may take gentle coaxing, it may involve some kicking and screaming, but in the end, I believe teaching a son how to grow is both the greatest blessing and challenge God can give a father. My dad taught me so much during those times at Basswood, and looking back on it now I realize how much of it I took for granted. In these ways, and so many more, my dad helped me understand my Heavenly Father.

With Father's Day almost upon us, I wanted to take a moment to write down all things for which I was grateful to my own dad, but God isn't one to pass up a teaching opportunity. The more I reflected on how great a father my dad has been to me, the more I began to understand how great a God our Heavenly Father is to us. Because even when we take him for granted, even when we make terrible mistakes, God's love never changes, just like my dad's love and patience didn't change for the grumpy kid in the boat. He will always be there, firm but with arms open to say, "I love you. I will always love you. Learn from this."

Intersecting Faith & Life: May this Father's Day bring you many blessings and remind you of the many you already possess.

For Further Reading

Fathers Leave Lasting Impressions

Crosswalk.com's Humorous Tribute to Dads

What Does It Mean to be a Christian Father?

[Judy Harder]

Heavenly Father
by Ryan Duncan, Crosswalk.com Culture Editor

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? - Matthew 6:26

There are a lot of great stories I could tell about my father, but today I'd like to share something that happened when I was barely four years old. My sister and I were both due to get our vaccinations, and my father ended up taking us to the doctor by himself (an action that speaks volumes about my father's selflessness and my mother's foresight). As we sat in the waiting room, my sister and I began to get nervous. We'd been told the shots would hurt, so my dad spent several minutes patiently soothing us and promising it would be no more than a pinch. Finally, one of the nurses called us into a small back room where a smiling doctor waited to greet us.

She assured us both this would be over in no time, and after selecting my sister as her first victim patient, she asked if we'd seen her new kitten poster. As soon as my sister turned to look, the doctor lunged forward like Captain Ahab trying to harpoon Moby Dick. Madness ensued. My sister was screaming and crying and I did the only thing any four-year-old could think to do: I ran. I bolted straight out of that room and down the hallway.

My father had to chase me down and restrain me while the nurse administered the shot and took a blood sample (actually two samples, I might have kicked her while she was getting the first one). All in all, it probably wasn't the best day for everybody involved. Still, when I look back on that event all these years later, I don't just see a funny story, I see examples of God's love in the actions of my father. For starters, God is loving, He walks with us into places of fear and pain. God is comforting, when we're afraid He reminds us that He will always be there.         

Finally, God relentlessly pursues us. At four years old I didn't understand that I needed these shots to stay healthy, but my father did. He chased me down and made me experience pain because he loved me, and he knew it would give me a better future. In the same way, God sometimes has to chase us through life, then drag us through all kinds of hurt and hardship, because He loves us and knows we will be better for it. This Father's Day, I want to encourage Christians everywhere to remember just how important fathers are to us all.       

May you find reflections of your Heavenly Father in our Earthly parents.

Intersecting Faith and Life: Happy Father's Day, Dad!

Further Reading         

Psalm 103:3

[Judy Harder]

Beach Lessons
by Katherine Britton

Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven – for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little." –Luke 7:47, ESV

How do you explain to a child that's never been to the ocean what waves are like? You might fill a bathtub with water and splash it back and forth. That could teach action of waves – but what about the look? You might take the child to a nearby river with a few rapids, and show them how the foam collects at the bottom of a fall "like on top of a wave." You might show them a 4x6 inch photograph. You might try to show them what waves sound like with a conch shell. But what about their vast dimensions along the shore? What about their unending nature? What about the undercurrent of a wave going back to sea?

No substitute can convey the scale and true nature of waves continually breaking on the shore. No analogies or to-scale models prepare children for their first trip to the beach. They can't grasp the greatness until they've seen it for themselves.

Have you seen the greatness of God's forgiveness yet?

No measure of teaching, preaching, and analogizing can make us really grasp what God's forgiveness means. Even after we reach adulthood, we're still creatures of experience. It takes a firsthand experience – recognition of how vast our sins really are – before we can appreciate how vast God's mercy is to cover them.

Jesus gave Simon the Pharisee the example of two men who owed another money – one owed him five hundred days' wages, one owing him fifty. The moneylender forgives both debts, but, as Simon empathizes, the one forgiven the larger sum has a greater reason to love the one who cancelled his debt. But all Simon heard were the Jesus's words. He failed to realize what a vast stretch of sand he stood on, and what a great tide it would take to overtake all of those grains of sand. As a result, it's the woman Jesus recognizes for her great love of her Savior.

Intersecting Faith & Life: Is it possible that we can extend love and forgiveness if we don't understand how much Christ has shown us? Take your own "beach trip" and survey the vastness of God's incredible forgiveness that covers incredible sin.

[Judy Harder]

'I Thank God for You'
by Anna Kuta

"I thank my God upon every remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine making request for you all with joy, for your fellowship in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ" (Philippians 1:3-6).

We all know people who are a blessing to us. Whether it's a family member, your lifelong best friend, a coworker, the sweet lady who sits in the pew behind you every Sunday, or an old friend you can always pick right back up with no matter how many months it's been, each of us has people in our lives that we are so thankful for.

We get so caught up in day-to-day busyness sometimes that we forget to thank God for all the things He has blessed us with. Instead of focusing on the goodness the Lord has shown us, we complain about the minor thing that goes wrong. Instead of being grateful for the multitude of people who encourage us and make us smile, we get so hung up on the one person who did us wrong that it sours our whole outlook. I'll be the first to admit I'm guilty of this all too often – especially when it comes to taking for granted all the wonderful people who have impacted my life.

Here at the beginning of his letter to the church at Philippi, Paul presents a great example for us to follow when it comes to the people in our lives who are special to us. "I thank my God upon every remembrance of you," Paul begins. He goes on to tell the recipients of his letter how he prays for them, and then gives an encouraging word about God's work in them. How often do we take the time to tell people how much they mean to us – especially fellow Christians with whom we share, as Paul says, "fellowship in the gospel"? I know I don't do that nearly as often as I should. As Paul models here, we should let the people we thank God for know that we do. And what better way to do that than by telling them today?

Intersecting Faith & Life: Right now, thank God for several people you know who are a blessing to you. Ask the Lord to bless them and encourage them – and then take a minute to let them know personally.

Further Reading

Romans 1:8

Psalm 13:6

Hebrews 13:15

[Judy Harder]

Strangely Dim
by John UpChurch, Senior Editor, BibleStudyTools.com

Four crumbling stairs leading up the hill from the rock-encrusted sidewalk—that's all that's left. If you drove by today, you wouldn't know that I once smashed honey bees on the driveway with a shovel, or that I did so barefooted until one got a squishy revenge. You also wouldn't know about the loft in the garage where my brothers would hide away or the window in my room that thieves peeked through before they stole our bikes. You'd never see the stairs leading out the back door where my mom would sit while we brought her giant grasshoppers to examine or plums from the fruit trees.

You see, I had this idea that one day, when I got the chance, I'd take my wife and girls to Marion, Alabama. I'd show them the house where I spent the first five years of my life, regaling them with stories about the giant heating grate in the middle of the hall that my brother used as a bathroom while sleepwalking, and the stove fire that sent my dad to the hospital, and the small square pond with goldfish that our landlady's cat loved to eat.

But I can't—at least, not the way I intended. My oldest brother dashed this plan by posting a Google Street View image. The two neighboring houses still stand. Ours is gone. Completely. Considering the size of the trees that now play the stand-in role, I'm guessing the house disappeared years ago (given our experience with electrical issues there, probably in a blaze of glory).

I've been told by movies and books that I can't go home again, and this sad image of an empty lot does make a pretty good case for that. But that house—no matter the memories of watching PBS in the living room or music blaring from my brothers' stereo—that house was never my home, not really. Nor is the house where I spent most of my youth, nor is the place I live now.

Seeing an empty lot reminded me how easily the things here on earth disappear. One moment you're settling into a comfortable Alabama life; the next you're suddenly uprooted for Tennessee. And when you look back, all that's left is in your head.

Intersecting Faith & Life: When I saw the empty lot in Marion, it reminded me of an old song that I've never really liked. I know I'm supposed to because it's a classic and all. But I don't. I do admit that it makes a ton of sense:

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

We can try to cling to all the stuff around us—our family, our house, our money—but it all disappears. That's why our foundation is so important. Building on the Rock of Christ isn't just a happy-happy phrase that we can post on our fridge and feel good about. It's a necessity. If we build on anything else, even without realizing it, we might look down someday to find our foundation and discover it's gone.

For Further Reading

Matthew 7

Luke 6

[Judy Harder]

Freedom Fried
Shawn McEvoy, Crosswalk.com Managing Editor

So now, come back to your God! Act on the principles of love and justice, and always live in confident dependence on your God. ~ Hosea 12:6, NLT

The 'Fourth of July' devotional.

It fell to me this year.

And whoa if I didn't have a firecracker of a time coming up with what to write.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not riding on the trendy bandwagon of American self-loathing. I love my country. I dig personal and religious freedom. Without a free press I'd be out of a job, and without free speech I'd be locked up somewhere. But not here!

So why the long face on red-white-and-blue, take-a-day-off, fire-up-the-grill day?

Because Christianity has so little yet too much to do with the American Dream.
 
Because I get sad when I consider the evolution 'Freedom' has undertaken just in my lifetime – from "allowed to act responsibly" to "if it feels good do it" to "absolutely anything goes and don't even try to suggest otherwise, or we might just take away your freedom."
 
Because "Independence Day" is a disconnect for me, devotionally speaking, from things I know to be true: that independence has never served me well where family or friends or work colleagues or the Church or the Lord are concerned.
And so, left without the trite and tried-but-true for today's devotional, I settled on the short, bittersweet, and eternal...

Neither politics nor religion nor any mixing of the two will save me.
Some things are really messed up. Most things are really not mess-up-able. A few things that are require only repentance or the granting of forgiveness to restore.
It's never wrong or out-of-style to be thankful, to express gratitude.
You can pledge your allegiance to the flag every day and admit your own and your country's independence, but "when you bow down before the Lord and admit your dependence on him, he will lift you up and give you honor" (James 4:10, NLT).
Have a safe and blessed holiday, everyone.

[Judy Harder]

Just Keep Swimming!"
by Katherine Britton

"Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us." – Hebrews 12:1

On Saturday night, I let myself go limp in front of the TV. The blur of activity, newness, and ridiculously hot weather the week before had exhausted me, so a complete mind/body check-out seemed in order. I don't have cable and I didn't bother to turn on instant streaming, so my viewing selection was pretty limited. I soon found myself watching Finding Nemo.

Remember the part where the all-important scuba mask slips down, down, down into the dark gorge? Marlin panics and goes after it, only to swim frantically back out of the darkness. Then the crazy blue fish with a short term memory problem frolics her way into that same blackness with nary a care. A moment later Dory comes back to encourage Marlin. "Hey, Mr. Grumpy Gills," she says, "When life gets you down, you know whatcha gotta do?" "No, I don't want to know watcha gotta do." "Just keep swimming! Just keep swimming! Just keep swimming!"

Not that I'm taking lessons from a digitized blue fish, but Dory's attitude reminded me what perseverance should look like. It's not that sitting on the couch and taking a break was evil in itself, but my can't-go-any-farther attitude was. That attitude indicated that I was slogging away in my own strength and had run out of energy without looking to the Lord for supernatural help. At points like that, even though I know the answer, "I don't want to know watcha gotta do" to keep pursuing what God has called me to do. Wallowing in my exhaustion seems so much easier.

Sunday evening, someone reminded me that, "when life gets you down" and you're exhausted, God's faithfulness has the chance to shine through. The end of my rope is the beginning of grace made evident in my life, providing the strength to "keep swimming" even though I'm exhausted. And He gets the praise, because I know that strength is no longer something in me. His mercies are "new every morning" (Lam. 3:23) and enough to keep me moving in the direction that He encourages me to go. My responsibilities are just one more way to bring me to my knees and let the Lord refresh me with His grace. After that, I can keep going in His mercy, and even sing while I'm at it. His faithfulness never ends.

Intersection of Faith & Life: The Bible is full of reminders of God's faithfulness to believers, and the stories all end with God being glorified for their reliance on Him. In the end, it's when we are weak that He makes us strong (2 Cor. 12:10).

Further Reading:

Philippians 1:4-6

1 Corinthians 9:24

How to Pray on the Go

[Judy Harder]

Blowing up the Fourth of July
by John UpChurch, Senior Editor, BibleStudyTools.com

I nearly blew up Fourth of July. Well, not the holiday, just the block party we had when I was a kid. For a couple years when I was young, the residents of our neighborhood would congregate at an open lot on the corner. Many of the families would bring bags and boxes of giant bottle rockets, roman candles, sparklers, fountains, and other color-shooting fare. They'd dump them on a ratty blanket and sit in the grass. Most of them took turns launching the flaming orbs into the air, littering the ground with the paper and cardboard of spent fireworks, and filling the night with acrid smoke.

It was glorious, and I wanted to make a huge splash (cue the dramatic music).

Before descending upon the second—and last—of our block parties, I scanned the aisles of the fireworks tent not far from our house. Just shooting flaming balls or seeing a pretty sparkly pop in the sky wasn't enough. I wanted to go big. There'd be nothing mundane for my moment of greatness this year.

And that's when I found the perfect Chinese-made, powder-stuffed wonder. I have no idea what it was called, but it was a green plastic tube longer than my hand with fins sticking out from either end. The packaging promised showers of sparks as it rose into the sky, a loud report (code for explosion), and an unforgettable display of color. Some might say spending three bucks on one moment of awesome is a bit excessive. I just saw it as a small price to pay for a green wonder.

When we arrived at the party, I plopped that bad boy on the blanket and waited. The dozen or so puny pops and whistles made me all the more eager to get to my pièce de résistance. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the lightshow, but they didn't know what real excitement awaited them.

Finally, my time came, my moment of triumph. Although I was too young to do the lighting (so said my parents), I marched with my firework contraption to the middle of the road and placed it exactly in the center. This green wonder needed the perfect launching pad, after all.

I hurried away when the host of the party lit the fuse. To this day, I have no idea what happened exactly. I followed the instructions on the wrapper, and yet the green wonder's shower of sparks weren't enough to get it off the ground. Instead, it limped across the road with a pathetic whimper and shot toward the blanket full of fireworks.

Neighbors scattered. People screamed. God had mercy. At least, that's the best way I can explain how a shower of sparks and flame didn't set off any of the other fireworks or burn anyone.

Intersecting Faith & Life: Too often, I'm just like I was back then on that Fourth of July: I want my service, my gift, my moment to be more awesome than anyone else's. I compare what I'm doing with what you're doing or he's doing or she's doing to see how I stack up. That's exactly the point where things go boom.

But freedom in Christ begins with a humbling. We're meant to keep our eyes on Him, so much so that we aren't able to compare ourselves with others. One person may preach the gospel to an entire nation, and another may work with gospel-saturated hands in a tiny community. One may write books that sell millions of copies, and another may have a blog that ten people read.

We don't need green wonders to make a big splash. We need surrender to the One who made us. That's what sets us free.

For Further Reading

Romans 9

1 Corinthians 3