How to be Thankful

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

“What would you do with a million dollars?”

It’s an interesting question to think about, and can be a good conversation starter in awkward settings. Most of us will never be given a million dollars, but our answers can reveal something deeper about us. First maybe we think we’d just get out of debt. Then maybe a new house, new car, new TV. Then maybe just one trip. It reveals how easy it is to go down the road of, “If I only had a little bit more.”

Photo Credit: Flickr User cambodia4kidsorg, Creative Commons

It can be like this with our actual resources as well--we think how nice it would be to reach a certain level of comfort, and once we’re there, we find ourselves thinking how nice it would be to reach the next level, and so on. Whether we actually have the money is only part of the problem--the real issue is our desire to always have more than what we currently have.

1 Timothy 6:17-18 points out the flaw in this kind of thinking, and provides an unexpected suggestion for how to combat it (emphasis added):

Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share.

Our thoughts shouldn’t be tied up in what we have or what we’d like to have someday. Any kind of wealth, whether it’s financial, relational, or anything else, is ultimately fleeting--our true hope can only be found in God. When we realize where any good gifts we do have come from, we should be thankful for the opportunity we have to experience them for a while. That thankfulness should then cause us to move. Because we aren’t commanded to be rich in things, but in good deeds.

“What would you do with a million good deeds?” isn’t a conversation starting question I’ve ever heard, but unlike a million dollars, it’s something more of us might actually be able to achieve. Our acts of service can be an expression of our thankfulness to God for what he’s done and what he’s blessed us with.

If we let it, our thankfulness can move us to tangible, life-saving action. I love the way The Message translation phrases II Corinthians 9:12-14:

Carrying out this social relief work involves far more than helping meet the bare needs of poor Christians. It also produces abundant and bountiful thanksgivings to God. This relief offering is a prod to live at your very best, showing your gratitude to God by being openly obedient to the plain meaning of the Message of Christ. You show your gratitude through your generous offerings to your needy brothers and sisters, and really toward everyone.

One major cause that’s on the minds of many these days is the Syrian refugee crisis, where millions of people are fleeing their homes in fear of war and violence. There are no easy or quick solutions to a problem of this magnitude. However, as we look at the good things we have in our own lives and take the words in 1 Timothy to heart, “to be generous and willing to share,” we may realize we have ways to share that can help people who are fleeing their homes in crisis. Bethany Christian Services has been helping to resettle refugees from all over the world since 1998. There are a variety of ways to get involved with their refugee resettlement programs, some of which can be found here and here.

As we celebrate Thanksgiving this week, let’s not do so only by gathering with family and friends and eating a lot, but by letting our thankfulness turn to action.

[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

Superpower

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

As a kid, I never thought I could be Superman. Superman stories are exciting, and I liked imagining running super fast or jumping super high or flying; but even as a child I knew super-powers were impossible. Superman was a super-man and not just-a-human like me.

As a young Christian, I knew I didn’t have super-faith. I loved hearing stories about people God called to exotic places and people, or who planted churches in desperate and desolate areas, but I was barely able to curtail my swearing or stop being obsessed with finding a boyfriend. Giving up everything I knew for Him was inconceivable. People who lived their lives out on the edge of faith seemed to have super-faith. My faith had no cape.

If foreign missionaries have super-faith, Abraham seems to have super-mutant-faith. Pastor Ricardo preached from Genesis 22 this week, where God asks Abraham to sacrifice Isaac. How could I ever have faith like that?!

My faith has grown from its early, tenuous state; the longer I walk with God, the deeper my trust and belief, and I can say yes when He calls me to challenging things. Still, I think I would come up short if God said, “Robin…I need you to sacrifice you daughter, Matilda, to me.” It wouldn’t be the quick obedience we see from Abraham! I look around for his cape, wondering how he could agree to sacrifice his son; how could he be a regular guy who believes God the same way I try to?

Out of context, Abraham might look like a superhero, but in context, he looks like a normal, fallen, messed up human who is stumbling forward as he learns to trust God more. The rest of Abraham’s story (which you can find starting in Genesis 12), reminds us that Abraham was a real man; he believed God and acted in faith, but at times he stumbled around like the rest of us. He lied to try to protect his wife, and when God seemed slow, he attempted to make God’s will happen his own way. Abraham had faith filled moments, and moments of self-reliance. Through a lifetime of believing God, Abraham’s faith grew and was strengthened as he acted on his belief and saw God.

Perhaps most notably, Abraham’s faith was built by God’s amazing blessing and impossible goodness when he and Sarah gave birth to a son, the heir God had promised. Sarah was ancient – ninety years old! – when Isaac was born. Isaac’s birth wasn’t unlikely or improbable; it was miraculous. God had shown Abraham more than once that He was who He said He was, and He was able to do anything He said He would do. Every belief-fueled act of obedience grew Abraham’s faith.

So this real man - this father who loved the only son he had, the son who was the promise of God, and the promise of blessing for the world – was asked by God to take that son, and sacrifice him.

And in faith, Abraham agrees:

“He said to his servants, “Stay here with the donkey while I and the boy go over there. We will worship and then we will come back to you.” Genesis 22:5

We will come back, not I. Abraham believed that he AND Isaac would be returning. He had walked with God. He knew God. God had promised that through Isaac Abraham’s offspring would be reckoned (Genesis 21:12). Isaac was tangible proof that nothing is impossible with God. Abraham trusted God –he had faith that whatever happened on the mountain, he would obey, and God would provide.

Consider how Hebrews 11:17-19 explains Abraham’s reasoning:

“By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice. He who had embraced the promises was about to sacrifice his one and only son, even though God had said to him, “It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned,” Abraham reasoned that God could even raise the dead, and so in a manner of speaking he did receive Isaac back from death.” 

Abraham wasn’t gifted with supernatural faith to respond in a way that we are unable. His faith had no cape. He didn’t hear God’s call out of nowhere and then blindly wander up a mountain wondering what would happen next. Abraham had walked with God for years; he knew his God. He knew his God was bigger than he could imagine; God had already done impossible things in Abraham’s life.

So Abraham obeyed.

And the Lord provided.

This story is about the faith of a regular human, but the power and faithfulness of a limitless God.  

God provided the sacrifice; God credited Abraham’s faith-filled actions as righteous. God made a way to spare Isaac’s life through the death of another. God showed Himself on the mountain top. Galatians 3:8 says that He preached the gospel to Abraham: a Father with only One Son, whom He loved, would sacrifice that Son so that many lives would be saved; blessing would come to the nations through Abraham’s offspring when Christ tasted death for everyone to bring His many sons and daughters to glory. (Hebrews 2:9-10)

Abraham’s faith was not super hero faith. Abraham’s God was the superpower God.

We don’t need super-faith to be like Abraham; we need to know our God, and walk with Him. When we know Him, we will believe Him for things only He can do. 

[Robin Bupp is married to Caleb, and they are from many places east of the Mississippi (but are calling Michigan home for the foreseeable future). A former high school science teacher, Robin is slowly turning the two Bupp kiddos into tiny nerds while they teach her lots of things, especially humility and patience.]

The Two Sons

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

When I hear Jesus begin a parable with, “a man had two sons…” I immediately want to divide those sons into the “right” one and the “wrong” one.  Maybe it’s my tendency to prefer absolutes: black and white, good and evil.  Maybe it’s my desire to figure out which one I do, or should, align myself with. Thankfully Jesus never paints with just black and white, he has the whole color palate to use, as he showcases in this depiction of God’s love and our humanity. 

The father in this parable represents God, so let’s focus on the sons. We are his sons – humanity - God’s creation beginning with Adam, promised as the seeds of Abraham, governed under the Mosaic law which comes to fulfillment in Christ.  As we try to figure out which son we are, let’s look more closely at the ways they are similar, and what we can learn from their examples.

The sons knew their father; they were aware of his wealth, they knew they could come to him with concerns, and they had some concept of his kindness.  Yet each, in different ways, chose to treat their father poorly.  At the beginning of the story, the younger son essentially wished death on his father so that he could inherit his wealth. 

Photo Credit: Flickr user Nicholas Raymonds

After the younger son squanders the wealth finally returns, the father celebrates his return. The celebration ignites the older son’s feelings of anger and entitlement; he is so filled with contempt at his father’s generosity that he cannot celebrate with them.  

There is uniformity when we look at the father’s treatment of his two sons.  He loved them both enough to allow them to make their own decisions, even if those decisions brought pain and dissatisfaction.  The father also actively pursued both sons.  He was waiting for the younger son to return and ran to meet him. He broke cultural norms to leave the celebration and seek out the older son; typically a host in that time would not leave his own party. And he was equally generous and offered both sons complete reconciliation.      

If both sons, at their core, are sinful and ungrateful, and if we see the father as uniformly loving and forgiving, how do we make sense of the two totally different reactions of the two sons?  The first son reaps the pain and dissatisfaction of his poor decisions and ultimately begs for compassion from his father.  In contrast, the parable ends with the second son standing outside the party stewing in bitterness and judgement.  We don’t get to see a change of heart from him, but the story has no final scene.  Jesus leaves us in this dissonance to digest this story.

We are all sinners – the Bible tells us that we are, and a careful check out our thoughts and actions over the last day or even the last hour confirm it.  We are born apart from God, unable to bridge the gap to His holiness except through the saving grace of Jesus dying on the cross.  Our God is totally holy yet He is reckless with his love and grace as he extends salvation to each and every one of us.  We are the sons and he is the father.  What will our decision be?  This is the ultimate yes or no question.  There is no middle ground here, no chance to see it in anything but absolutes.  Our Heavenly Father runs to us and extends His loving arms – what will we do?  Fall on our knees and make reconciliation or turn and walk away?

Perhaps you are nodding in agreement, confident that Christ’s forgiveness in your life that has made you right before God. Consider these questions:

·         When others seem to receive abundant blessing while you are just plugging away at life, do you feel the older son’s questions creeping in?

·         Do your thoughts, prayers and actions for those who are chasing the world mirror the Father’s, longing actively for their return to His family; or do you find yourself in the self-righteous mindset of the older son?

·         If our Heavenly Father is a prodigal God, offering forgiveness and grace recklessly and completely to all who humble themselves and ask for it – how should we as His children be transformed by this in every moment of our Earthly lives?

·         Are you as reckless with love, grace and forgiveness as your Father?

[Caleb Bupp is married to Robin, and is originally from Pittsburgh. He spends most of his time as a geneticist, but thought it might be fun to try writing this blog. He likes the Steelers, pickles, running and classic movies.]

Praying Like We Believe It

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

Prayer sounds like it should be so easy. I find talking to other humans relatively easy most of the time, so why does it suddenly become so hard when the other part of the equation is a deity and not a human? If anything, shouldn’t that be easier, since I know God is kind of required to listen to me and to care about what I’m saying? Instead though, I find myself hesitating to ask for certain things, forgetting or neglecting to pray altogether, and constantly wondering whether my prayers are going anywhere at all.

Photo Credit: Flickr User snowpeak, Creative Commons

Reading passages like Luke 18:1-8, and especially Luke 11:9-10, bring up a lot of questions for me. In Luke 18, the persistent widow in the parable bothers the judge until he gives into her demands. Going to God over and over again sometimes feels like it’s showing a lack of faith instead of being a sign of having faith. Because it is often misused, Luke 11:9-10 can look like an instance of “magic genie God,” where we simply tell him what we want and voila! there it is. “So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.  For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.” Shouldn’t this mean that God answers all of my prayers, regardless of what they they are?

Really though, both of these passages point to the same virtue: persistence. The widow maybe does bother the judge a bit, it’s true, but the judge isn’t a perfect representation of God--our God, who is perfect, is never bothered by us. He likes when we repeatedly pray the same prayers, because prayers are a way of building relationship, just like talking to our family or friends is. When we look at the context of Luke 11:9-10, we see that Jesus is pointing to God’s desire to bring about the best for his children, and he is reminding them to pray in accordance with God’s will. Often times when we pray, our limited perspective doesn’t enable us to see the greater God may be working.

This is all an excellent reminder of why we should pray, and yet it still doesn’t get at the heart of why prayer is so hard. I love the quote from Abraham Joshua Heschel that Pastor Dirk used:

"The issue of prayer is not prayer; the issue of prayer is God."

At first it sounds almost incorrect--we believe God is good, all-powerful, all-knowing--so how could he have “issues?” But when I dig deep down, my issue with prayer isn’t really about the act of praying itself; it’s about my insecurities, hang ups, and questions about the one I’m praying to.

Maybe how we pray reveals what we really believe about God.

It’s difficult, frustrating, even tedious to pray the same prayer over and over for weeks, months, years. Repeated praying can feel like we don’t believe God will answer our prayer, or that he’s not even listening at all. When God answers with a “no” to something we thought for sure would be within his will, the temptation to stop praying can become even stronger.

In these times, we need to remind ourselves of who God really is. If we turn to the Bible and see over and over again how good, faithful, and loving he is, we can relearn to pray like we really believe those things. God doesn’t love us any more or any less when we keep praying the same thing, and his answers to our prayers don’t mean he loves us any more or any less either--even if he doesn’t answer in the way or in the timeline that we’d like him to. If we allow it to, prayer can be an expression of faith that we know he will hear and answer.

So this week, I’m trying to return to some of the prayers I had stopped praying for a while. It’s with a bit of trepidation, but I’m hoping that doing so will remind me of who God really is, and that he does what he says he will.

[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

Just and Gracious

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

The last two mornings, I’ve gotten up early for quiet time with God before the days burst into full volume. Both mornings, the loud child has woken up just as I’m settling in with my Bible and warm beverage. It seems like if I’m making extra effort toward good, holy choices, God might bless me with quiet, sleepy children.  

Photo Credit: Flickr user stockmonkeys.com

Perhaps that somewhat silly example isn’t a place where you can connect with the idea of being disappointed in our expectations of God; maybe one of these is a better fit: You followed what seemed like God’s will into college and a major; why has He given jobs to other people, but not to you? Your beloved relative sought to honor God with his life; why did God take him away at such a young age? You would be such good parents; why does God give children to others while you remain childless? You have honored God in relationships and waited for a godly spouse; why won’t He turn anyone’s head your way? Perhaps there’s another place you feel the sting of unmet expectation with God, and you question His fairness. 

Pastor Dirk drew our attention to God’s fairness in the Parable of the Compassionate Employer (Matthew 20:1-16). A vineyard owner (who represents God in this story) hires workers at the beginning of the day, agreeing to pay them a fair amount for a day of work; four more times throughout the day he hires other workers, agreeing to pay them whatever is right. At the end of the story, the workers all go home with the same pay, whether they worked one hour or twelve. The workers who were in the field the longest see the owner’s generosity to others and expect more than they agreed to; they complain that He is unfair. Two things stand out in particular in this parable: the compassion and unexpected generosity of the vineyard owner, and the expectations of the workers.

Whether we look at our own lives (when loud children wake up at 6:15, or whatever your unfairness might be), or look through the eyes of the vineyard workers, we might be tempted to claim that God is unfair. Yet the Bible tells us that God is just, or righteous. How can we reconcile real life with Truth?  

God is just. Justice means rendering to everyone what he is due. That’s an attribute of God that comforts me when I’m considering wrongs committed against me or injustice in the world. But I regularly forget what I am actually due:

“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and …the wages of sin is death.” (Romans 3:23, 6:23).

I sin. I deserve death. That’s what I’m due. Death is what’s fair.

It turns out, I don’t want God to be fair. When I am reminded of what I am due, I am massively thankful that God is not only just, but He is also compassionate, merciful and gracious. Fairness alone would demand that I die and be separated from God forever. But mercy and grace are where I find myself saved and hidden with God forever!

By His great mercy and costly grace, God made a way to satisfy justice – to pay the death that my sin owes – and to mercifully offer me life with Him instead: Jesus is the way. If we believe that Jesus’ death paid for our sin, we are made right with God and will live with Him eternally!

The vineyard parable offers the stark and needed reminder that we are not “underpaid,” regardless of our circumstances. The breath in my lungs is an undeserved gift from God. No actions on my part – even obedient ones – demand generous rewards; nothing I do earns me more of His favor. Additional gracious blessings should be just that: unexpected and undemanded, not earned rewards. God’s perspective is so much different than ours:

“Our God is in heaven; He does whatever pleases him.” Psalm 115:3

God’s grace won’t be constrained by our perception of fairness.

“What then shall we say? Is God unjust? Not at all! For he says to Moses, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion.” It does not, therefore, depend on man’s desire or effort, but on God’s mercy.” Romans 9:14-16

Let’s let our joy in His blessings be full, unhindered by intolerance of His grace to others. 

[Robin Bupp is married to Caleb, and they are from many places east of the Mississippi (but are calling Michigan home for the foreseeable future). A former high school science teacher, Robin is slowly turning the two Bupp kiddos into tiny nerds while they teach her lots of things, especially humility and patience.]

Getting Grace

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

When we read the story of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector, we may not immediately want to identify with either of main characters. Taxes aren’t generally very popular, so anything associated with them gets a bad rap, and especially the tax collectors in Jesus’ day. As for the Pharisees, Jesus repeatedly warned his followers to not be like them, and the Pharisees were some of the people who ultimately saw to it that Jesus be crucified. 

Unfortunately, we can’t continue not identifying with either of the characters for long. Personally, I found myself muttering “Oh crap” under my breath as Pastor Dirk described the actions of the Pharisee. Because if I’m going to be one of the characters in this story, it would definitely be that guy. 

I’m pretty involved at Encounter—I write these Midweeks (clearly), I’m a youth leader, I facilitate the Women & Wine group, and a few other things. None of those are bad, but they also aren’t going to get me to heaven. They don’t make me any more or less holy than someone who’s involved in eighteen church activities or someone who hasn’t been to church in years. We can do years and years of good service, both in the church and out, but none of it counts in regards to our eternal salvation. 

Photo Credit: Flickr User kelly.sikkema, Creative Commons

All the work in the world won’t get us to heaven, which is at the same time deeply freeing and deeply terrifying. It’s only through God’s grace that anyone, ever, gets declared righteous in his eyes.

This is what the Pharisee in Luke 18 did not understand. Instead of receiving the gift of grace, he ran after religious accomplishments that could be counted and totaled up to prove that he was worthy. Though he tried to make himself sound humble, he ended up doing the exact opposite, showing how proud he was of his accomplishments—accomplishments that could never achieve what he wanted them to. I’m kind of with the Pharisee on this one—there’s a part of me that thinks it would be nice, or at least a lot easier, if there was a “Get to Heaven” checklist with certain accomplishments to tick off. 
• Pray every day and really mean it
• Read the entire Bible
• Love your neighbor
• Lead a Bible study
• Go to church every week
Check them all off, and it’s an automatic “Salvation card” for us. Except that’s not how gifts work.

The tax collector, on the other hand, had done so many wrong things he knew the only way he could become right with God was not through his own doing, but through God’s. He humbled himself to a place of knowing he’d done wrong and, if anything was going to change, the first move would need to come from God. 

That’s how God works—he makes the first move in saving us. 

Grace is a gift, and gifts can’t be manipulated or controlled, only received. I would much rather have it be something I can understand and control, can work harder to achieve for myself, than have it be so wildly out of my control. It’s also one of the beautiful things about grace, though. It’s so much bigger than us, so much purer than anything our human selves are capable of offering, so much more powerful than we’ll ever really understand. So while we can’t earn grace, we can receive it and offer back our thanks. 

[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

Trading Good for Best

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

If someone called me shrewd, I don’t think I’d take it entirely as a compliment. There’s a cleverness that goes with being shrewd, but also a kind of sneaky underhandedness I’d rather not be associated with. So in Luke 16:1-9, when Jesus is essentially telling his followers to be shrewd, it’s a direction that doesn’t quite make sense to me. 

Photo Credit: Flickr User Holly Norval, Creative Commons

The manager tells at least two people to short change his boss, seemingly so that he, the manager, can benefit from it. When his boss finds out, instead of being furious over being cheated out of four hundred and fifty gallons of oil and two hundred bushels of wheat, the boss applauds how the manager shrewdly planned for the future. While there is still much about this story I don’t fully understand, I think there is a piece that I’ve begun to: His methods may not be the most applause-worthy, but the manager is planning for the future, not focused on the now. 

With this story, Jesus isn’t telling us to be shrewd with just anything—he’s telling us to be shrewd with the things that matter. In order to do this, we first have to have a right understanding of what “things that matter” really are. To put it simply, most of what we can physically taste, touch, or smell probably doesn’t qualify. Money, cars, houses, phones, and so many of the things we strive after and spend our time on simply aren’t worth it. Jesus is telling us to be shrewd about spending our lives in pursuit of real, lasting goodness, not the fleeting goodness we’re so accustomed to. As Jesus says in Matthew 6:19-21, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.  But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

This week, maybe we need to spend time evaluating how well our lives reflect our understanding of eternal significance. It doesn’t necessarily mean we need to get rid of all our possessions and spend all our time praying and reading the Bible, because we do still need to live on this earth for as long as God allows us to—but maybe we do need to reprioritize a few things. A lot of good, honorable things demand our time, talent, and treasure, but sometimes even good things need to go when they get in the way. Whether it’s how we spend our money, the way we treat our family, friends, and coworkers, or the things we devote our time to, would others be able to tell by looking at them that our true goal in life isn’t to simply live as comfortably and easily as possible? 

Are we spending on good things, or the best things?

It might be a hobby that’s gotten out of hand, a relationship that’s become unhealthy, or anything else preventing us from focusing on the ultimate treasure we have in Christ. The sacrifice of getting rid of it may feel like too much, but we can trust that God will fill the seeming hole in our lives with something even better—more of himself. 

[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]