Crosswalk.com--The Devotional

[Judy Harder]

October 11, 2011

Mini-Miracles
Shawn McEvoy, Crosswalk.com Managing Editor

So they all ate and were filled. Mark 6:42

The title of my devotional today strikes me as oxymoronic. Miracles, after all, are defined as acts of God, amazing and marvelous events, and "seals of a divine mission" (Easton's 1897 Bible Dictionary). Generally speaking, there's nothing small about them.

What I'm talking about then, are instances of heavenly intervention in the lives of believers that impact what we would consider "minor" areas of our existence, the things that cause us to make statements like: "It showed me that God cares about even the small things in our lives," always as if that's a profoundly shocking proclamation. Nobody ever responds by saying, "Well, duh..."

I think that's because it never stops being a mind-blowing concept - the Creator of the universe, who hears the prayers and praises of billions simultaneously and loves each one the same, provided, perhaps, just the right amount of money for a struggling single mom to buy her child a pair of shoes. It's not the parting of the Red Sea to preserve for Himself a people, or the resurrection of His son to purchase the redemption of humanity. It's, for lack of a better term, a mini-miracle.

I remember one time in our Adult Bible Fellowship class my friend Karen stepped in to teach our continuing series in Mark's gospel. We were in Chapter Six, focusing primarily on the Feeding of the 5,000. As she began her lesson, Karen admitted that she'd never quite been able to visualize this scene, or understand exactly what the miracle was meant to show. I mean, there is the lesson of provision, but the human body can go without food for quite some time. Jesus Himself fasted in the wilderness for 40 days (Matthew 4:1-4). So it's not like life and death were hanging in the balance if the people who had followed Him to this "desolate place" went without dinner that night. 

It could be, Karen suggested, Jesus just didn't want the people to go away - He had just suffered the death of His cousin John the Baptist, and recently endured the "amazing unbelief" (Mark 6:6) of those from His hometown of Nazareth. It could be Jesus took immense delight in this multitude foregoing their bodily needs to attend to His Word. It very well could be our Lord simply wanted to do something "just for them."

Maybe, Karen said, that's why she always tended to overlook this miracle a little bit. "You know how sometimes when God does something that you know was 'just for you,' and you tell someone else about it, and they're like, 'That's cool and all,' but it just doesn't carry the same meaning for them?"

I knew exactly what that was like, and I liked where she was going. I could see an even greater personalization in mini-miracles, in God drawing delight from blessing our socks off in ways that speak to our individual hearts. The idea also gave me greater permission to attribute to the Lord all sorts of transpirings that I had chalked up to my own efforts, happenstance, or even worse, had gone without noticing.

If, for instance, I told you about the time we thought we'd lost my wife's keys - including several costly ones - only to find them sitting precariously on a single steel beam of the trailer behind our moving van, maybe you'd respond the way my friend Scott did: "You got lucky, dude." Yeah, well, that's why Karen says sometimes these events are "just for us." I saw those keys, I knew the bumpy route we had traveled, I was astounded, I was humbled. I decided that giving credit to the Lord for things that bless you is never wrong, as suggested by James 1:17.

I just don't do it enough.

I wonder how many mini-miracles I've missed out on by being impatient, angry, or inattentive. Donald Miller, in Blue Like Jazz, has Moses tell those worshipping the golden calf: "Your problem is not that God is not fulfilling, your problem is that you are spoiled" (92). Romans 1:20 would seem to indicate that the Lord's hand is evident everywhere - "people can clearly see His invisible qualities." I like that verse very much, because I like to think of myself as on the lookout for God.

But that brings me to the other ways to miss miracles - by not accepting them or expecting them, by resenting them or wanting to earn them. I quote from Blue Like Jazz again, where Miller admits, "I love to give to charity, but I don't want to be charity. This is why I have so much trouble with grace" (84).

Intersecting Faith & Life:  Can we get past the affront of accepting a free gift? If we can, we might see the Lord trying to say through the Feeding of the 5,000 and even today, "Here I Am, stay here, spend more time, no need to go away, please accept this, put yourself in My hands, keep your eyes open, I love you."

After all, says Matthew 7:11, "If you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him?" (Matthew 7:11). Mini-miracles are the treats God brings home to His kids, those who seek him with childlike faith, those who consider themselves "the little things in life." Well, duh...

Try bringing something small home to a loved one today to remind yourself of how much joy the Lord gets from giving. 

[Judy Harder]

October 13, 2011

For Rainy Days
Ryan Duncan, TheFish.com

"And the ransomed of the LORD shall return and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away."- Isaiah 35:10

Recently, my Small Group decided to take a weekend retreat down to the east coast. I've got to say, I was pretty excited. In the days leading up to the weekend I couldn't help but imagine hanging out at the beach, playing some football with the guys, and grilling copious amounts of meat for evening meals. When Friday finally rolled around, we loaded up our cars and made the two hour trip down to the coast where we had rented our cabin. Well, it rained. All weekend.

It wasn't the fun kind of rain either, the kind where if you get a few people brave enough you can run around outside like maniacs until you're soaked. No, this was the cold, unrelenting, kind of rain that makes you want to crawl back in bed and hibernate for a week. So I was a little surprised when Stephanie, one of the girls in our group, announced that she wanted to get baptized. She had planned on doing so at the beginning of the trip, and decided that she was going to follow through despite the weather.

She couldn't have picked a more miserable day. The sky was gray, the sea was white and foamy, and as we stepped onto the beach, I knew it would only be minutes until we were all close to freezing. I remember watching Stephanie and her friend wading into the sea and thinking that when I got baptized it would be somewhere tropical and sunny. But when Stephanie broke the surface, the joy on her face seemed uncontainable. You couldn't help smiling with her as she climbed out of the water.

Suddenly the sky didn't seem so gray, the rain wasn't so bad, even the wind, which was just as cold as ever, didn't bother me so much. It was one of those moments where you knew God was there. Life is full of bad moments and rainy days, and it's tempting to think God doesn't care when cloudy skies remain the same. But here's the thing about God, you never know him better than after he's taught you to laugh in the rain.

Intersecting Faith and Life

Take a moment to find Joy in the life God has given you.

Further Reading

Psalms 16:11

[Judy Harder]

October 14, 2011

Getting My "Belay On"
Laura MacCorkle, Crosswalk.com Senior Editor

He will not let your foot slip—he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. Psalm 121:3-4, NIV

Recently I went indoor rock climbing with my friend.

I met Lindsey and her family early on a Saturday morning and was dressed appropriately. Not-too-snug pants? Check. Long-ish shirt that just about covered the bum? Check. No aversion to wearing rented-out climbing shoes that might be stinky and have been worn by hundreds, possibly thousands, of others? Check.

I was almost ready to rock and climb!

So then I stepped into the harness (like an airy, seatbelt-looking set of briefs). Next, I clipped myself to the belay device which was secured to the floor. And then my friend Lindsey took on the role of belayer while I was the climber.

"On belay?" I asked. "Belay on," she replied, as I learned is the customary verbal safety exchange between climbers. And then I began my way up the wall, Spidey-style, with one toe in one tiny foothold at a time. It was pretty exhilarating, I must say. And from time to time I would pause to make sure I was making a good judgment call as to where to place which hand and where to wedge each toe. But should I have fallen, I knew that the rope (and the belay device) would have caught me . . . even if Lindsey wasn't holding on to the rope or taking out the tension. I trusted that I would be held secure come what may.

Soon, I safely made it to the top of the wall, smacked the pole on the ceiling as a sign of "victory," and indicated I was ready to come down. I let go of the wall, and tapped my toes lightly against the wall all the way as Lindsey gently let me down.

It was a great start. But then it was my turn to be on the ground and for Lindsey to climb. Suddenly I didn't like all of the responsibility that I was about to take on. All of the instructions that she gave me started swimming around in my head. I even had the guidance of her sister (who had competed in rock climbing events for years!) right next to me. But I was still afraid that I might forget something or do something that would harm Lindsey while she was climbing up the wall. I didn't trust myself or my lack of knowledge and expertise.

Once Lindsey was safely back down, and I had sweated a bucket, I quickly said, "Yeah, I don't want to do that again." And after we all had a good laugh, I proceeded to climb a few more walls before I said my goodbyes and left the gym.

Driving along on my way back home, I pondered what had made me feel so uneasy about being responsible for someone else . . . and why it had felt so much easier and freeing to climb when someone else had my back. 

And that was it. I realized that because there was someone else—someone who was an expert and knew better—who was holding on to the rope, watching my every move, ready to release or hold the lever at any given moment and shouting out words of encouragement or guidance to me, I was able to relax and just enjoy the thrill of the climb and concentrate on whatever step I was on or planning on taking next.

It seems so simple. Because it is.

Just like my relationship should be with God, because he has already promised that he will watch over me. And when I'm not in control, then I am free to follow his instruction. I am unencumbered by excess this, by fiddling with that, by worries, by fears, by wondering if I'll ever be able to do everything correctly and make sure everything turns out "right" in my life.

But thankfully as his child, God's got my "belay on." And he is all the protection I will ever need.

Intersecting Faith & Life:

Who's got your back in your life? Or rather, who's got your "belay on"? Is it you? Or is it something or someone else? Bottom line, wherever you are putting your trust will tell you a lot. Ask God to help you let go and "climb" with freedom. If you are his, then he's got your back and will always have your "belay on."

Further Reading:

Crosswalk.com's "Who Is Jesus?" section – to learn more about freedom in Christ

"Leaning on the Everlasting Arms" (1887)

Words: Elisha A. Hoffman

Music: Anthony J. Showalter

What a fellowship, what a joy divine,

Leaning on the everlasting arms;

What a blessedness, what a peace is mine,

Leaning on the everlasting arms.

Refrain

Leaning, leaning, safe and secure from all alarms;

Leaning, leaning, leaning on the everlasting arms.

O how sweet to walk in this pilgrim way,

Leaning on the everlasting arms;

O how bright the path grows from day to day,

Leaning on the everlasting arms.

Refrain

What have I to dread, what have I to fear,

Leaning on the everlasting arms;

I have blessed peace with my Lord so near,

Leaning on the everlasting arms.

Refrain

[Judy Harder]

October 17, 2011

Our Love Should Be Ridiculous
by Stephen Sanders, Salem Web A/V Editor

Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Romans 12:10

Every once in a while, you meet a Christian who just flat out makes you feel good about life in general. It doesn't happen probably as much as it should, but nonetheless, it's always nice to see. Even though it may just be a brief encounter, you leave that conversation feeling important, hopeful and restored. Sometimes, it's even so powerful that it inspires you to become a better person.

I recently had an encounter with a certain pastor who just flat out blew me away with the way he carried himself. This was actually my 2nd time meeting him, and I just can't describe the attitude of this man. His love for God and love for people was simply contagious. Everyone in the room was just so peaceful and complimentary after he left. I found myself wanting to be more like that because, well, I'm not.

Showing "brotherly affection" towards others is not something that comes naturally for me. I tend to make a lot of excuses when it comes to being more outgoing and more loving. After all, it's much safer to just ignore people I don't know or have things in common with. That makes perfect sense, right? It's wiser to just let someone else share God's love with them; someone who can "minister to them more effectively than I."

God continues to deal with me about this on a daily basis. Not only is displaying love towards one another one of the chief commands of the Christian faith, but it's the core of who Jesus Christ was while he was on earth in the flesh. It's easy to assume that Jesus would have gotten along easier with the "church folks," but He actually spent all of His time with tax collectors, prostitutes and such; people who He had absolutely zero in common with.

The religious people of that day mocked Jesus for loving the way He did. Jesus' love was ridiculous.

I've been studying the heck out of the book of Romans lately. It's been great because I've begun to see this continuing contrast between the "church folks" and the "actual church" that Paul was ministering to in those days. The "church folks" were so proud of the list of regulations that defined who they were and set them apart from the society in which they lived. The "actual church" simply grabbed hold of the free gift of Christ and displayed it openly to that same society. The "church folks" disqualified others from becoming God's Chosen because of what they were unwilling to do. But the "actual church" made no assumptions about who could and could not be "saved."

The early church let the good news of the cross speak for itself... and they would scream this truth to everyone... everywhere... .even if it meant dying a gruesome death. Their love was ridiculous.

In today's culture, self-sacrificial love to the point of death sounds just as extreme as it did back then. So many of us make excuses as to why we don't need to love like that. Christians and church doctrines manage to create unwritten laws that shield us from having to actually love like the Spirit of Christ so desperately wants us to. We take specific scriptures and turn them into shield for our own protection. Take Romans 12:1-2 for example:

I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.

Until recently, I'd only recognized this scripture as an instruction to "beware of society and it's influences." And it's true that the world does things way differently than the Holy Spirit does. But I've always overlooked the importance of "test and discern what is the will of God." You see, we cannot "test the will of God" if we are so far removed from society that we are out of touch. The same "enemy society" that we are to not become influenced by is also the same exact place where God has strategically placed us to seek His will for our lives and display the gifts and talents He has placed in us.

Sound impossible? It's really not... it just takes a ridiculous love for this lifestyle to be functional.

In actuality, it may appear to many as being very dysfunctional. But that's okay! This Christian walk was never meant to be something that caused us to take ourselves more seriously than we ought to anyway. To tell you the truth, Jesus said that the "actual church" would "confound the wise and shame the strong." So don't be afraid to be excessively full of life, hopeful, positive and patient when others try to make that difficult to do. Look for excuses to just randomly meet the needs of others... especially your enemies! That's love... that's the sort of thing that everyone, Christians and non-Christians, long for deep down inside. That's what the love of Christ is all about.

I'm challenging myself (and you) to reach out in some way to someone every single day... starting today. God has radically changed our lives. He has given us something that is more valuable than anything. It's time we share it, not from a soapbox or inside our church walls, but in the every day hustle and bustle of where we already exist...

...and be proactive because, chances are, if you don't then no one else will.

For further study, read Romans Chapter 12.

[Judy Harder]

October 18, 2011


Is Suffering Inevitable? 
Shawn McEvoy

For it is better, if God should will it so, that you suffer for doing what is right rather than for doing what is wrong.
1 Peter 3:17, NAS

Suffering. It's not standard daily devotional fare, because let's face it, usually we want to begin or end our day being uplifted, or even better, lifting up God, rather than focusing on our pains and problems.

But there's the rub... we all have pains and problems. Christian and non-Christian. Lifelong disciple and baby believer. Red and yellow, black and white. Everyone, from the moment he or she was born, has struggled, tried, failed, hurt, sinned, misunderstood, and reacted. Humanity shares a true brotherhood over suffering, one that we might understand a lot better if suffering weren't also so relative. By which I mean, one person's issues may sound simple, easy-to-solve, even petty to another. "That's nothing compared to what I've had to endure!"

But the fact is, your sorrows and difficulties are real to you. It's one reason why I'm no fan of when people say a certain place or time in their lives isn't "the real world," as if the spot they are currently tucked away at is immune from any degree of difficulty.

Suffering is very real, and there's certainly no reason any Christian would expect life to be otherwise. We purport to follow a "Suffering Savior." His stripes have healed us, and wow do we seem to feel them sometimes, which is as it should be, as we deserved them instead of Him. If we agree that no person but one - no matter where they lived or how easy or hard they had it - has escaped sin's corruption, then how much more must we agree that truly NO person has escaped suffering?

Look at what Peter suggests in today's verse: you can suffer for doing good, or you can suffer for doing bad. By extension, some of the problems in your life may be a result of your own rebellion, while other hurts may naturally result from walking so closely with Christ that you ache at the injustice and hardship around you, with the world despising and persecuting you.

In the classic allegory Hinds' Feet on High Places, Much-Afraid journeys with companions named Sorrow and Suffering, and these two assist her in her climb up the Injury Precipice, which is a part of her transformation into "Grace and Glory."

The same is true for you. Your sufferings have informed you, educated you, helped you along in your journey. You may despise them, but they are yours. And they will be with you whether you are doing right, or not. Of course, the nature of them will be quite different.

There may be one way, though, to avoid suffering. There's a third option, left out here by Peter, but not left out by John in the Revelation. It's the lukewarm response to life, the do-nothing approach. This is the approach that cocoons itself off from life and all of its pain. And make no mistake, "Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something," says that famous theologian the Man in Black in The Princess Bride.

You may not feel anything from inside a cocoon; in fact, it may be an abundance of pain and suffering that forced you in there. But remember, no creature that cocoons itself is intended to stay locked up forever. The point is to be rested, healed, matured, transformed. To become more beautiful, useful. Even the emerging process itself carries a degree of struggle, but one that, if the insect did not go through itself, would leave it too weak to fly.

So be lifted up in your suffering today.

It is a companion.

It is designed to transform you.

It gives you a share in the inheritance of Christ and the brotherhood of humanity.

And it gives you empathy, which gives you every excuse for ministry.

Intersecting Faith & Life:

Make it your goal to partake, as much as possible, only of the brand of suffering that comes from doing what is right according to God's Word.

Further Reading

God's Undeserved Gift to the World: Christian Sufferers
Trusting God in the Darkness

[Judy Harder]

October 20, 2011



You Can Do This
By Ryan Duncan, TheFish.com

Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. – Luke 6:30

Every other day, just after finishing with work, I head to the gym and spend some time exercising. I like to work out. It's a great way to stay healthy and burn off stress at the same time.

My routine is pretty simple. I start by running on a treadmill, then I wander around the free-weight section for a variety of exercises. Finally, I try to finish off by swimming a few laps in the pool. When it's over I always feel tired and sore, but good that I completed such a full workout.

One day, I was invited to work out with a friend of mine. As we made our way around the weight room, my friend stopped at the bench press and placed two huge weights on the side of the bar. Immediately, I became nervous. I had done the bench press before, but never with that much weight. I wasn't sure I'd be able to lift it. Pride got the better of me though. Instead of saying something, I just braced myself and lifted the bar with all my strength.         

To my surprise, it wasn't that heavy. Sure, it took more effort than usual, but I realized my continuous workouts  had made me a lot stronger. I had underestimated my own strength. 

I think Christians can sometime have the same problem when it comes to their faith. We keep telling ourselves we are not ready, that we need just a little more time to prepare ourselves. We underestimate our ability to be of service to God. Take a moment to read this excerpt from the book of Acts.

After this, Paul left Athens and went to Corinth. There he met a Jew named Aquila, a native of Pontus, who had recently come from Italy with his wife Priscilla, because Claudius had ordered all the Jews to leave Rome. Paul went to see them, and because he was a tentmaker as they were, he stayed and worked with them. – Acts 18: 1-3   

Acts continues to explain that while Paul ministered in Corinth, Aquila and Priscilla opened their home, helped with his teaching, and even followed him on some of his travels. Now read the verse again. Aquila and Pricilla weren't anything special, they were tent makers. If anyone had an excuse to think they weren't ready for ministry, it was them. Instead, they gave what they had while serving where they could and God did amazing things through them.

So, instead of wondering if you ready to serve, ask yourself what could you do to serve?

Intersecting Faith & Life:

Take a moment to review your strengths. How can these be used to serve God?

Further Reading


Proverbs 21:26

[Judy Harder]

October 21, 2011

Finding Your Calcutta
Laura MacCorkle, Crosswalk.com Senior Editor

"I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me." Matthew 25:40, NIV

In Finding Calcutta: What Mother Teresa Taught Me About Meaningful Work and Service, college professor Mary Poplin tells her story of volunteering for two months in Calcutta, India, with Mother Teresa and the Missionaries of Charity.

It was the summer of '96, and being a new Christian, Mary was on a quest to explore all the parts of the body of Christ and to understand what it means to serve Christ as his follower. But never before had she been so close to such outward poverty or exposed to the "least of these"—those who no one else wanted to help.

During her time working in a home called Shishu Bhavan, Mary cared for children ranging in age from newborn to 10 years old—some were handicapped or deformed, others were sick with illnesses such as malaria or tuberculosis, and still others had mild forms of retardation. While helping these helpless, needy little ones, she came to realize that not all poverty is apparent to the human eye.

"Mother [Teresa] told me how people in the West are poor," she says. "In fact, she considered us the poorest of the poor spiritually because our physical comfort makes us believe we do not need God and our busyness makes us ignore him."

After her two-month stay—and with new eyes—Mary was able to clearly see the meaning of Mother Teresa's words: "Find the sick, the suffering and the lonely right there where you are. You can find Calcutta all over the world, if you have eyes to see."

But where was Mary's "Calcutta" and where was God calling her? How was she supposed to find it back in the comfortable and wealthy United States—where most of us never think we will encounter the "poorest of the poor"?

Mary says, "Often people teach that to know our calling, we must know our spiritual gifts, desires, opportunities and special skills. Clearly, these are useful. However it is perhaps even more the case that our crises and grievings reveal our call."

Her crisis of faith came as a result of her involvement in higher education. Like many of her colleagues, for years she had believed that Christianity was oppressive and the root of most social ills in the world. But through various measures—and a fellow professor whose life lived before her was a powerful testimony and whose "deep peace" disconcerted her—she opened her life to Christ.

At this point, it's not hard to figure out where Mary would eventually find her Calcutta. Upon her return home, her watershed moment came when she was asked to speak about her time with Mother Teresa before an annual conference of women school administrators.

While standing before her peers—and with the tears flowing freely—she knew at that moment that she was called to reach the university world with the love and truth of Christ. It was the very same world where God had revealed himself to her!

And it was there that Mary found her Calcutta.

Intersecting Faith & Life:

Where is your Calcutta? As close as your home? Perhaps next door? Maybe further down the road at your workplace? Or even on a mission field miles away? If we empty ourselves, God can reach hearts and minds through you and me. Ask him where "your Calcutta" is today so that you may live out the love of Christ to the physically—and spiritually—poorest of the poor.

Further Reading:

Matthew 5:14-16, NIV

Romans 10:15, NIV

[Judy Harder]

October 24, 2011

A Messy Life for God
by Sarah Phillips, Crosswalk.com Family Editor

In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And when he came up out of the water, immediately he saw the heavens opened and the Spirit descending upon him like a dove; and a voice came from heaven, "Thou art my beloved Son; with thee I am well pleased." Mark 1: 9 – 11

Have you ever read the biography of a great Christian, a man or woman who dedicated all to the Lord, and felt inferior? I have. It seems I am too normal and too flawed to live such a life. I am not as bold as St. John the Baptist or as eloquent as St. Thomas Aquinas. I don't have a radical story like Mary Magdalene, or a dramatic calling from heaven like St. Paul.

And yet deep down, I yearn to imitate "the greats" – those who loved God so much, it spilled over into every aspect of their beings. So, I was encouraged when I cracked open a book my discerning uncle gave me - a book titled The 33 Doctors of the Church by Fr. Christopher Rengers -- to discover that some of the most noteworthy Christians in Church history were quite normal.

The book's title doesn't refer to the kinds of doctors we associate with medicine but profiles those Christians who, over the centuries, proved themselves to be exemplary docere  (Latin for "teachers") of Christian doctrine. Familiar names like Augustine and Thomas Aquinas are among this group, but so far one obscure Doctor stands out to me: St. Gregory of Nazianzus.

Born in 4th century Asia Minor to a family of devout believers, Gregory enjoyed blessed beginnings – excellent education, financial comfort, and great Christian friendships. But like St. Nicholas, Gregory faced a Church fraught with controversy and confusion from the Arian heresy. By the time Gregory was ordained a priest in his 30's, so many had fallen away from true faith in the divinity of Christ that an alternative Arian church hierarchy had been established.

The faithful needed bold teachers of the truth to help them understand Christ's real identity and to heal the wounds of division. But "bold" didn't exactly describe this sensitive, reluctant saint. Gregory suffered from great inner turmoil over his vocation as a pastor, feeling his zealous father had pressured him into being ordained. Only after months of solitary prayer following his ordination did he embrace the responsibilities of his ministry.

Even after Gregory accepted his calling, he struggled throughout his life to accept certain leadership roles, often retreating into solitude to study or in some cases, nurse wounded emotions. One of his greatest struggles occurred when his best friend, St. Basil, appointed Gregory bishop of a very undesirable region, leaving Gregory feeling exiled and useless. The damaged friendship between these two great men never fully healed.

In spite of Gregory's weaknesses and relational rifts, God worked through his sensitive and solitary nature to raise up one of the greatest theologians in all of history. St. Gregory played a key role in converting powerful Constantinople from the Arian heresy, risking his life to shepherd the pathetically small community of believers. While other theologians wrote formal, lengthy treatises on Jesus Christ, Gregory was gifted at integrating and articulating truth in a way that reached both the scholarly and the unscholarly. Fr. Renger writes that he made "true doctrine live in the minds of his audience," and the result was a flourishing church where the faith had once almost been lost. Renger goes on to describe Gregory's lasting theological influence on the early Church:

"St. Gregory of Nazianzus was given the title of 'The Theologian' or 'The Divine' (the theologian) because of his skill and eloquence in upholding the truth of the Divinity of Christ. The title did not have the more exclusive meaning it now has, but it attests to his reputation in the early Church... History has given this title only to St. Gregory of Nazianzus and St. John the Evangelist. In the case of St. Gregory, perhaps it is God's way of giving earthly glory to a man who had shunned glory, who hated pomp and display and whose life was marked by recurring flights to the world of solitude, as well as by somewhat pathetic returns to the call of insistent duty."

Gregory's orations and writings inspired and influenced scholars for hundreds of years after his death, and we still use some of his key words when describing the profound relationship of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit today.

Reading about St. Gregory's life has given me much to ponder about living for God. Gregory, like so many other faithful Christian heroes, was a normal man with real emotions. Yet God worked through the messiness of life to accomplish great things through him. While Gregory's sensitive spirit may have been a shortcoming in some arenas, it became one of his greatest strengths in bringing the Gospel to the world.

Gregory's story is also a reminder that there is no utopian Christian community, no perfect pastor or church unaffected by sin. Even the "greats" had relational problems. At the same time, God often works through fellowship with one another to help us reach our full potential.

Intersecting Faith & Life: What are your weaknesses and shortcomings? What ways can they become strengths when submitted to the grace of God? What ways can you show grace and godly love to others who, in their own weaknesses, have failed you?

Further Reading

Romans 12: 6 - 8

[Judy Harder]

October 25, 2011


Elbows & Ears
by Shawn McEvoy, Crosswalk.com Managing Editor


I will redeem you with an outstretched arm.
Exodus 6:6

Be merciful to me and hear my prayer.
Psalm 4:1

Once, when my son was just shy of three, he informed his mother he was drawing a picture of God.

"Oh... What does God look like?" she asked.

"Well, I put some elbows and some ears," he replied, and he went back to his work.

I was told that story when I came home from work. Cute, I thought. Not exactly as awe-inspiring as Ezekiel's vision, but sounds like a weird picture. I mean, where is the face?

"The face of the Lord is not one you could look upon" (Exodus 33:12-23), came the voice inside my head.

Where are the hands and feet?

That's you.

Oh yeah, that's true...

So... elbows and ears, huh?

Well, I guess God does reach us, and move us, and nudge us, and hold up the light to our paths. As Wayne Watson sang, "No one in this world can slip beyond the reaches of the long arm of the Lord."

And I know he hears us. He created us for fellowship. He desires praise and prayer. He's absolutely listening. He can even hear things we don't even know we're saying. As Steven Curtis Chapman sang, "The cross should have been mine, But His love broke through time, And heard my heart's cry."

So in one statement about one drawing by one child, I had digested a complete meditation on the nature of God, who He is and what He does, even what He leaves for us to do. As Casting Crowns sang, "If we are the body... Why aren't His hands healing... Why aren't His feet going?"

Intersecting Faith & Life: Consider today what part of the body you are playing, and what other parts (eyes, mouth, shoulders, etc.) describe what you know about the character of your God.

Further Reading

Video: "Proof" Most of us have thought how much easier it would be to follow God if we could just see Him once. The truth, though, is that He is all around us...
Matthew 5:8

[Judy Harder]

October 26, 2011

Where True Worship Is Found
Alex Crain, Christianity.com

"Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10.

As a worship leader for my local church, I confess that weekly service planning and preparation can become routine at times. This week, I had one of those days of "worship-less worship planning." Not proud of that fact, but I too often rely on experience, which has taught me how to put songs together for congregational singing. I easily get focused on the human activity side of things and forget the Holy Spirit. Change keys here. Do this musical transition there. Go into a refrain of old hymn and then back into the contemporary chorus that we started off with... In a way, I somehow think my role is to charm people into a 'worshipful' frame of mind.

This week, as I was thinking ahead to this coming Sunday and getting into planning mode, I found myself going on autopilot again. Then I recalled something: "Worship is found not in stained glass windows, candles, or altar pieces, not in experiences, but in communion with the God who is there—communion for eternity, and communion now with God as Abba Father."

It wasn't an audible voice. (I have suspicions about those.) Rather, it was something I'd stumbled across in chapter 10 of Francis Schaeffer's True Spirituality (p. 317). By the way, when he says 'communion' he's not talking about taking the bread and cup of the Lord's Supper. He's talking about simply being with God, enjoying His presence, and knowing His blessing through faith in Christ. Again: "Worship is found not in stained glass windows, candles, or altar pieces, not in experiences, but in communion with the God who is there—communion for eternity, and communion now with God as Abba Father."

Too often, communion with God is something that is assumed by me in my planning. I wrongly assume that the awareness of this blessing and unbreakable relationship with God is cultivated by every believer who comes to worship. I say 'wrongly' because I know of the numerous times that I, myself, fail to rely on God's grace and be in regular communication with Him. I don't intend to  roll out of bed and into a church service with just about the same degree of preparation as I would for a ball game or a concert, but that's exactly what I do at times.

"Be still and know that I am God," says the Lord in Psalm 46:10.

By God's grace, I need to resist the urge to justify my role as a worship leader by planning out every second. Not to be formulaic and reactionary, but this week, I'm allowing for indefinite times of silence and stillness. If we do less activity, make less noise, and acknowledge the presence of the God who is there, true worship can be found by just that—being still and knowing that He is God.

Intersecting Faith & Life

Today, fight the impulse to let distractedness and the hectic pace of life dictate your soul's lack of calm and quiet dependence on God.

For Further Reading

Psalm 46

Isaiah 57:15-21