In my book, Christ’s Empowering Presence: The Pursuit of God through the Ages, I include a chapter early on that’s titled “Brother Lawrence: A Most Popular Practitioner of ‘The Pursuit.’” It seemed appropriate to devote a chapter to the 17^th century French monk known as Brother Lawrence since he did so much to make famous the spiritual exercise that has come to be known as “the practice of the presence of God,” an exercise that I equate with the pursuit of Christ’s empowering presence.

In the following excerpt from my treatment of Brother Lawrence’s engagement in “the pursuit,” I reflect some on the venerable monk’s indication of how important the practice of God’s presence was to his spiritual life.

The Heart of Christian Spirituality

        Another dominant theme that seems to run throughout the documents that serve as our resources for understanding the thought and practice of Brother Lawrence is the idea that practicing God’s presence is at the very heart of Christian spirituality. Indeed, there are places in these writings where it appears that Brother Lawrence was suggesting that this one spiritual discipline is all that is necessary in order for the sincere Christ-follower to grow in his or her walk with God! For example, Brother Lawrence said, according to de Beaufort, that “he was more united to God in his outward employments than when he left them for devotion and retirement.”[1] At the very least, this brief statement implies that the godly monk’s private devotional practices offered him no more of a sense of intimacy with God than when he was engaged in more mundane matters.

This same idea finds expression in another passage in which de Beaufort records Brother Lawrence as insisting that our sanctification does not depend so much upon our engaging in special spiritual exercises but in simply making sure that what we normally do each day is performed for God’s sake rather than our own. Indeed, the good brother goes on to critique those Christians who mistake the means for the end—literally becoming addicted to the performance of “certain works,” convinced they are serving God when, in reality, they are really serving themselves![2]   

        By “certain works” Brother Lawrence seemed to have the idea of special devotional activities in mind. This is indicated by the fact that in yet another place Monsieur de Beaufort describes Brother Lawrence as follows:

He believed it was a serious mistake to think of our prayer time as being different from any other. Our actions should unite us with God when we are involved in our daily activities, just as our prayers unite us with Him in our quiet devotions.

            He said his prayers consisted totally and simply of God’s presence. His soul was resting in God, having lost its awareness of everything but love of Him. When he wasn’t in prayer, he felt practically the same way. Remaining near to God, he praised and blessed Him with all his strength. Because of this, his life was full of continual joy.[3]

        This is actually one of several passages where we seem to find Brother Lawrence suggesting that practicing the presence of God was for him the main manner in which he cultivated his spirituality. Yet another example of this type of passage is one located in his Spiritual Maxims. In that work, written by Brother Lawrence’s own hand, we find this bold statement:

The most holy and necessary practice in our spiritual life is the presence of God.[4]

        Indeed, in some passages we almost hear Brother Lawrence saying that the only reason he would ever engage in any other form of spiritual devotion was because doing so was mandated by the rule of the order to which he belonged. For example, in his one of his letters to de Beaufort, Brother Lawrence confesses:

I have given up all but my intercessory prayers to focus my attention on remaining in His holy presence. I keep my attention on God in a simple, loving way. This is my soul’s secret experience of the actual, unceasing presence of God. It gives me such contentment and joy that I sometimes feel compelled to do rather childish things to control it.[5]

        Similarly, in The Character (or Life) of Brother Lawrence de Beaufort includes a descriptive paragraph which suggests that, since Brother Lawrence’s secular activities as well as those activities traditionally considered more sacred involved his pursuit of Christ’s empowering presence, his spiritual mentor saw no real difference between them. Monsieur de Beaufort writes:

Everything was the same to him—every place, every job. The good brother found God everywhere, as much while he was repairing shoes as while he was praying with the community. He was in no hurry to go on retreats because he found the same God to love and adore in his ordinary work as in the depth of the desert.[6]

        It should be apparent to us by now that Brother Lawrence had a high view of the practice of God’s presence as the very center of Christian spirituality. His engagement in “the pursuit” was at the very heart of his approach to spiritual formation. Thus, it’s fitting to conclude this section with one final quote:

Brother Lawrence called the practice of the presence of God the easiest and shortest way to attain Christian perfection and to be protected from sin.[7]

Wow! This is a pretty strong endorsement of a particular spiritual exercise! Of course, as I go on to point out in Christ’s Empowering Presence, Brother Lawrence was not the only spiritual master to hold “the pursuit” in particularly high regard. Throughout Christian history some pretty smart and godly people have made it their goal to pursue a moment-by-moment mentoring relationship with the risen Christ. Do those of us living in such a hectic, hurried, spiritually and morally confused post-Christian culture really have a good reason not to follow suit?

 Something to think about.

In my book, Christ’s Empowering Presence: The Pursuit of God through the Ages, I include a chapter early on that’s titled “Brother Lawrence: A Most Popular Practitioner of ‘The Pursuit.’” It seemed appropriate to devote a chapter to the 17^th century French monk known as Brother Lawrence since he did so much to make famous the spiritual exercise that has come to be known as “the practice of the presence of God,” an exercise that I equate with the pursuit of Christ’s empowering presence.

In the following excerpt from my treatment of Brother Lawrence’s engagement in “the pursuit,” I reflect some on the venerable monk’s insistence that we must be careful to practice the presence of God for the right reason.   

Love: The Only Motive

            Reading through The Practice of the Presence of God, one cannot help but notice how insistent Brother Lawrence was that the ultimate motive for this spiritual discipline must only be a sincere desire to commune with and serve a good God. The implication of this is that Brother Lawrence was very concerned that someone might succumb to the temptation to turn the pursuit of Christ’s empowering presence into a fear-based religious work or engage in it in merely to impress his or her peers. It’s easy to see how this could happen in a religious community such as that housed in a monastery. But I think it’s possible for us noncloistered followers of Christ to be tempted in these ways as well. Sometimes it’s easy to allow our embrace of grace to falter, or to care a bit too much about appearing spiritual before our family and friends. Thus, I’m suggesting that it is these kinds of concerns that best explain the following passages drawn from the records of Brother Lawrence’s conversations and letters—passages which in one way or another refer to the godly monk’s love for the Lord.

            In reference to his observations of Brother Lawrence, de Beaufort writes:

Brother Lawrence confided to me that the foundation of his spiritual life was the faith that revealed to him the exalted position of God. Once this became secure in the depths of his heart, he was easily able to do all his actions for the love of God.[1]

Our brother remarked that some people go only as far as their regular devotions, stopping there and neglecting love, which is the purpose of those devotions.[2] This could easily be seen in their actions and explained why they possessed so little solid virtue.

            Neither skill nor knowledge is needed to go to God, he added. All that is necessary is a heart dedicated entirely and solely to Him out of love for Him above all others.[3]

The most effective way Brother Lawrence had for communicating with God was to simply do his ordinary work. He did this obediently, out of a pure love for God.[4]

          The next two excerpts are presented in the first person, coming from Brother Lawrence himself. They too emphasize the good brother’s motive of love.

There is no sweeter manner of living in the world than continuous communion with God. Only those who have experienced it can understand. However, I don’t advise you to practice it for the sole purpose of gaining consolation for your problems. Seek it, rather, because God wills it and out of love for Him.[5]

I feel unable to express what is going on inside me right now. I’m not anxious about my purpose in life because I only want to do God’s will. I wouldn’t even lift a straw from the ground against His order or for any other motive than love for Him. Pure love of Him is all that keeps me going.[6]

            According to Proverbs 16:2, our motives matter to God. I trust that in this section I’ve succeeded in helping you recognize how important it was to Brother Lawrence that the practice of the presence of God be engaged in with the right motive in place. We must not turn this holy habit into a legalistic attempt to mollify the wrath of an angry God. Neither should we pursue this practice in an attempt to have our peers notice our superlative piety. In a word, the only appropriate motive for pursuing Christ’s empowering presence is love—our love for him and a quiet confidence in his love for us.

Going a bit further in this posting, I want to further suggest that that there’s a dialectical or paradoxical relationship of sorts between the pursuit of Christ’s empowering presence and the sense that we are loved by him. On the one hand, knowing how much we are loved by God inspires us to enage in “the pursuit.” On the other hand, the more we experience Christ’s presence in our lives, the greater is our ability to know, from the heart, that we are loved by God.

Don’t we all need all the help we can get in truly knowing, down deep inside, how valued we are by God?  Isn’t this the heart of the Gospel and key to just about everything else in the Christian life?

Something to think about.

In my book, Christ’s Empowering Presence: The Pursuit of God through the Ages, I include a chapter early on that’s titled “Brother Lawrence: A Most Popular Practitioner of ‘The Pursuit.’” It seemed appropriate to devote a chapter to the 17^th century French monk known as Brother Lawrence since he did so much to make famous the spiritual exercise that has come to be known as “the practice of the presence of God,” an exercise that I equate with the pursuit of Christ’s empowering presence.

 In the following excerpt from my treatment of Brother Lawrence’s engagement in “the pursuit,” I reflect some on the venerable monk’s understanding of just what it means to practice the presence of God on a day-to-day basis.

The Essence of Christ’s Empowering Presence

            According to Brother Lawrence, it’s both possible and desirable to develop the life habit of continually conversing with God. Monsieur de Beaufort writes:

Brother Lawrence insisted that, to be constantly aware of God’s presence, it is necessary to form the habit of continually talking with Him throughout each day. To think that we must abandon conversation with Him in order to deal with the world is erroneous. Instead, as we nourish our souls by seeing God in His exaltation, we will derive great joy at being His.[1]

Thus, the pursuit of Christ’s empowering presence, in the simplest sense, involves our learning how to maintain with Jesus an ongoing internal conversation regardless of whatever else is going on around us. In de Beaufort’s account of his several interactions with Brother Lawrence, we find the following passage in which the godly monk elaborates some on the nature of such an ongoing conversation:          

Today Brother Lawrence spoke to me quite openly and with great enthusiasm about his manner of going to God. He said the most important part resides in renouncing, once and for all, whatever does not lead to God. This allows us to become involved in a continuous conversation with Him in a simple and unhindered manner.

All we have to do is to recognize God as being intimately present within us. Then we may speak directly to Him every time we need to ask for help, to know His will in moments of uncertainty, and to do whatever He wants us to do in a way that pleases Him. We should offer our work to Him before we begin and thank Him afterward for the privilege of having done it for His sake. This continuous conversation should also include praising and loving God incessantly for His infinite goodness and perfection.[2]

             Yet another glimpse into Brother Lawrence’s approach to spirituality comes to us in his own words as recorded for us by de Beaufort. The first thing we learn from the good brother’s sharing is that during his formal prayer times his habit was simply to meditate on the attributes of God and Christ rather than engage in all sorts of elaborate devotional rituals.

When I first entered the monastery, I looked upon God as the beginning and the end of all my thoughts and all the feelings of my soul. During the hours that were designated for prayer, I meditated on the truth and character of God that we must accept by the light of faith, rather than spending time in laborious meditations and readings. By meditating on Jesus Himself, I advanced in my knowledge of this lovable Person with whom I resolved to dwell always.[3]

            Brother Lawrence goes on to explain how his custom was to take this sense of Christ’s presence with him into the rest of his day:

Completely immersed in my understanding of God’s majesty, I used to shut myself up in the kitchen. Alone, after having done everything that was necessary for my work, I devoted myself to prayer in the time that was left.

            The prayer time was really taken at both the beginning and the end of my work. At the beginning of my duties, I would say to the Lord with confidence, “My God, since You are with me and since, by Your will, I must occupy myself with external things, please grant me the grace to remain with You, in Your presence. Work with me, so that my work might be the very best. Receive as an offering of love both my work and all my affections.”

            During my work, I would always continue to speak to the Lord as though He were right with me, offering Him my services and thanking Him for His assistance. Also, at the end of my work, I used to examine it carefully. If I found good in it, I thanked God. If I noticed faults, I asked His forgiveness without being discouraged, and then went on with my work, still dwelling in Him.

            Thus, continuing in the practice of conversing with God throughout each day and quickly seeking His forgiveness when I fell or strayed, His presence has become as easy and natural to me now as it once was difficult to attain.[4]

            These are foundation-forming passages that are crucial to an adequate understanding of what it meant for Brother Lawrence to practice the presence of God, as well as what it might mean for us to engage in the pursuit of Christ’s empowering presence. Among other things, these readings suggest that such an approach to Christian spirituality might involve our learning to 

• begin each day doing our best to prayerfully recognize and appreciate God’s ongoing, intimate presence with us;
• address ourselves to God every waking moment throughout the day, continually calling on him for wisdom, discernment, and grace (empowerment) to do his will;
• offer absolutely everything we do as a gift to God before we act;
• pause inwardly in order to give thanks to God for his empowering assistance after we’ve performed each action as unto him;
• continually praise, adore, and love God even as we go about our daily business;
• periodically evaluate how well we’ve been doing at remaining mindful of God’s presence;
• trust in God’s forgiveness when our attempts at practicing his presence have been less than satisfactory, forgiving ourselves and pressing on with the resolve to do better in the future.

We would do well to reflect carefully upon this list of activities. As we go forward in our study, we will discover that these are the most basic themes upon which nearly all discussions of Christ’s empowering presence will focus.

In future blog postings I will present excerpts from my book that highlight Brother Lawrence’s insistence that: (a) the key motive for practicing God’s presence should be an attitude of love (rather than fear); (b) an engagement in this one practice may very well constitute the main means by which one endeavors to cultivate a healthy Christian spirituality; and (c) that this central spiritual discipline can be engaged in despite a very busy lifestyle.

Could it be that I’m on solid ground when I equate the practice of the presence of God with what I refer to as the pursuit of Christ’s empowering presence? Could it be that this particular spiritual exercise is at the heart of Christian spirituality and could, therefore, rock your walk with Christ?

 Something to think about.

In my book Christ’s Empowering Presence: The Pursuit of God through the Ages I introduce the concept of a “Colossians 3 Kind of Life” and suggest that a moment-by-moment mentoring relationship with the risen Christ is they key to it. The following exerpt from the introduction to my book is the way I go about drawing the attention of my readers to what I want to suggest should be the goal of every sincere follower of Christ.   

A Colossians 3 Kind of Life

            “You know you want this!” During the latter portion of my three-decade-long career as a teaching pastor I found myself uttering this phrase at the conclusion of many of my most challenging sermons. Having done my best to help my hearers understand the life implications of this or that passage of Scripture, I would then encourage them to view what was often a strong, challenging biblical exhortation as an exciting invitation to begin living their lives in a more Christlike manner. “You know you want this. You know you were made for this. You know that that deep down inside you’d really like to be the kind of Christ-follower who’s capable of living your life in this God-pleasing manner!”

            Over the years I found that some biblical texts require this kind of sermonic “framing” more than others. Consider, for example, Colossians 3:5–17, a passage that contains an intimidating list of moral imperatives:

Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. Because of these, the wrath of God is coming. You used to walk in these ways, in the life you once lived. But now you must rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips. Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator. Here there is no Greek or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all.

            Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.

            Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

            At first glance this passage might appear to be nothing more than a formidable laundry list of onerous expectations that Paul was placing on the poor Colossian Christians in a more or less impatient fashion. But let’s take a closer look. Isn’t it true that this passage also indicates that it’s possible for sincere followers of Christ to begin living their lives in ways that, deep down inside, they’ve always dreamed of? To become the kind of people who . . .

• are overcoming the power of sexual lust in their lives?
• feel no need to be greedy and stingy toward others?
• routinely speak the truth in love rather than engage in slippery speech?
• are able to love others despite their idiosyncratic tendencies?
• are perpetually experiencing the peace of Christ in their hearts?
• consistently function as peacemakers, rather than troublemakers, within their circle of friends?
• are genuinely positive people—always ready, whatever their circumstances, to offer sincere thanksgiving to God?

These are just some of the new lifestyle possibilities that Colossians 3 speaks to us about. I ask you: Who wouldn’t want this? Who wouldn’t want to believe that we might someday come to a place in our spiritual journey where it’s possible to actually pull off these moral and spiritual imperatives—or at least do a better job with them than we are now?

            As I said before, I believe I know the secret to our being able to live in this remarkably satisfying manner. You see, the Christlike kind of life described in Colossians 3:5–17 is prefaced by some important words of pastoral counsel in Colossians 3:1–4. This very important prelude reads this way:

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.

While acknowledging that these words, so obviously rich in significance, are nevertheless a bit difficult to comprehend, it’s apparent from their context that Paul was endeavoring here to help his readers understand how they might forge something other than an ultimately frustrating manner of life earmarked by a seemingly insurmountable compulsion toward sensual indulgence (see Colossians 2:18–23). According to the apostle Paul, the Colossian Christians must learn to shift their focus from their own limited physical resources, training their attention instead on the person and power of the risen and ascended Jesus. This is the key to a more spiritually satisfying existence. Indeed, this is the key to our achieving the Christlike kind of life Paul goes on to delineate in Colossians 3:5–17. We must learn to experience a perpetual sense of the risen Christ’s empowering presence, to live our lives each and every day drawing on the rich resources of the one who, having overcome all things (see John 16:33), presently abides at the right hand of God the Father in heaven!

Following Dallas Willard, my primary mentor when it comes to the theme of Christian spirituality, I’m convinced that it really is possible for Christ’s followers to learn to live a Colossians 3 kind of life. At the very least, I believe that we should spend the rest of our days endeavoring to do so. 

Would it appear that I’m merely promoting my book were I to go on to reiterate my firm conviction that learning how to pursue the empowering presence of Christ is the key to a Colossians 3 kind of life? Too late; I just did so!

Something to think about.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. (Matt. 5:5)

Most of us have heard sermons that were careful to point out that to be meek in the Christian sense is not to be weak per se, but rather, like Jesus, to have one’s inherent power under control. There’s a sense in which this is certainly true.

However, in my book, Defeating Pharisaism: Recovering Jesus’ Disciple-Making Method, I offer an understanding of Christian meekness that is a bit more nuanced. I propose, first of all, that, as with all the other beatitudes referred to by Jesus in his most famous sermon, meekness was an attribute that was, in general, noticeably absent from the lives of his main antagonists, the Pharisees. This was a truly ironic way for Jesus to begin his sermon since most of his listeners would have held the typical Pharisee in high regard. Then again, I’m convinced that throughout the sermon, Jesus used the Pharisees as a negative example of what he wanted his followers to be and do. Thus, it was precisely the ironic disconnect between the beatitudes and the lifestyles of many of the Pharisees that made Matthw 5:3-8 such an effective, interest-arresting, agenda-indicating sermon introduction!  

I go on to suggest that the key to understanding the meaning of all the beatitudes referred to by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount is to cross-reference what the Old Testament scriptures (Jesus’ Bible) have to say about each attribute with what the New Testament Gospels have to say about the lifestyles of many of the Pharisees. Thus, if we take Psalm 37:1–11 seriously when contemplating what it means to be “meek,” it might lead us to conclude that this “core value of the kingdom” calls for Jesus’ followers to keep trusting in God to protect and provide for them rather than feel the need to return tit for tat or engage in conspicuous, shameless self-promotion (for contrast, see Matthew 6:1-8, 16-18; 23:1–12). In other words, to be meek isn’t simply power under control, it’s a radical refusal to get even or, as the Pharisees were want to do . . .  show off.

Now this idea that Christian meekness involves a freedom from the need to promote oneself or to show off in front of others finds corroboration in A. W. Tozer’s Christian classic, The Pursuit of God. But Tozer goes on to draw our attention to a connection between the attribute of Christian meekness and a blessed sense of psychological rest that can be experienced here and now, long before the meek literally inherit the earth.

According to Tozer, most of us live our lives under the “curse of artificiality.” Deeply insecure, and deathly afraid of meeting people who are better than us in the area of our greatest giftedness, we feel the need to posture, pose and pretend—to do our very best to manage the impression most people have of us. Obviously, this is a psychologically exhausting way to pass through our days.

But, insists Tozer, it doesn’t have to be this way. Instead, fully convinced of our importance to God—that God values us more than the angels—it’s possible for us to essentially stop caring about whether the world will ever see us as God does. Truly meek Christians, says Tozer, are like very young children before they learn to compare themselves with others: they just enjoy being who they are without worrying about how others see them, or whether they measure up. It’s possible, says Tozer, for us Christians to come to a place where we do not care what people think of us so long as God is pleased, and where what we really are matters more to us than what we appear to be.

To be completely preoccupied with what we really are rather than what we appear to be; to be free from the burden of caring so very much about what others think of us: don’t you want to be able to experience this kind of psychological rest before this life is over?

Frankly, I’m not there yet. How about you?

Then again, I suspect that the first step toward true Christian meekness is a willingness to be honest with ourselves about the true state of our spirituality. Then, perhaps the next step calls for us to spend some time (each day) meditating upon how much we are loved by the God who both created the world and will someday re-create it as an inheritance to be enjoyed by those who, with Christ’s help, have learned to value what their heavenly father thinks of them above what everyone else thinks.

A most blessed rest indeed! I’ll pray for you if you’ll pray for me.

Something to think about.

The resignation this week of Congressman Anthony Weiner has me thinking about the relationship between leadership and lying.

Sadly, over the years I’ve seen a lot of good people hurt by Christian leaders who were convinced that the success of the mission of their church or organization justified an essentially unjust course of action. You know, it’s the old “Ya gotta break a few eggs if you’re gonna make an omellete” mentality.

In particular, I’m concerned today about the not-all-that-rare practice of Christian leaders deliberately deceiving their constitutents by either lying to them directly, or simply putting a spin on things so as to cause them to believe something that’s simply not true. This deception is supposedly justified by a concern for the greater good. I’m sorry, but this worldly approach to leading others makes me really, really nervous.

Just this morning, my Bible reading caused me to come across Pr. 17:7 which says:

Arrogant lips are unsuited to a fool– how much worse lying lips to a ruler! (Prov 17:7)

This, in turn, reminded me of Lev. 19:11 which seems to decry any kind of dishonest communication between God’s people:

‘Do not steal. “‘Do not lie. “‘Do not deceive one another. (Lev 19:11)

And, of course, there’s Eph. 4:15 with its exhortation for believers to speak the truth to one another in love, trusting God with the results:

Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ. (Eph 4:15)

Finally, I’m also thinking today of those various passages wherein the Apostle Paul is careful to insist that he’s practicing what it means to be dedicated to the truth as a Christian leader: Rom. 9:1; 2 Cor. 11:31; 1 Tim. 2:7; 2 Cor. 12:6; etc.

Taken together, theses passages suggest to me that it’s simply inappropriate for Christian leaders to ever engage in the deliberate deception of the folks, regardless of any notion of the greater good. Sure, sometimes hard decisions have to be made in the rough-and-tumble, fallen world in which we live and minister. But even these difficult decisions need to be conducted in an essentially just manner, displaying Christian integrity in the process! Even the secular world still seems to understand that it’s unacceptable for leaders to simply lie to their constituents. 

Someone might push back saying, “Yes, but isn’t it OK to lie to the Nazis who are demanding to know if you’re hiding Jews?”  My response, as a teacher of Christian ethics who routintely endeavors to help my students recognize the difficulties associated with an unqualified absolutist approach to moral decision making, is to say: “Come on, apples and oranges!”

So, I’m feeling led today to reach out to any Christian leaders who might stumble across this posting. Are you feeling tempted, for the sake of Christ’s mission, to deliberately deceive those you’re supposed to be serving on his behalf? I encourage you to consider the possibility that in God’s economy it’s never OK for a Christian leader to deliberately deceive his or her followers. Better to trust God with the mission than to begin the practice of deliberately deceiving God’s people. Just tell people the truth (see Matt. 5:37; James 5:12). While it may, on rare occasions, be appropriate to not convey everything you know to the members of your faith community, don’t be too quick to assume that they can’t “handle the truth,” and be very careful that your reticence to be fully forthcoming doesn’t devolve into the use of slippery speech, manipulative language, half-truths, artful re-direction, etc. It’s one thing to withhold information with a truly loving motive in mind, it’s another to proactively engage in strategic attempts to give your followers the wrong impression. If achieving your organization’s mission calls for you to lie to (or even just deceive) God’s people, maybe it’s time for some mission clarification.

Something to think about.

In our increasingly cosmopolitan society we have an ever growing number of religious worldviews becoming available to us. Is it even appropriate, much less necessary, for any of us to ponder the question of which religious worldview is actually the closest to the truth about the way things really are?

The answer to this question, according to those who embrace the concept of religious relativism, is a hearty “No!”

Put simply, the idea behind religious relativism is that because all religions do the same thing—help us connect with God (or ultimate reality)—they’re all equally valid. Thus, it’s both unnecessary and inappropriate for us to wonder about which faith tradition is closer to the truth.

One of the problems with this view is that a closer look at the various religions reveals that they are teaching some radically different things about God (or ultimate reality). How, then, can it be so easily assumed that all the world’s faith traditions are all equally effective in helping people connect with him (or it)?

Since, in an increasingly postmodern, post-Christian age, even many evangelical Christians are experiencing the temptation to embrace the idea of religious relativism, I’d like to point out that there’s a passage in the Gospel of Mark that would seem to give careful readers a hint as to where Jesus might stand on the issue of religious relativism.

Then the Sadducees, who say there is no resurrection, came to him with a question. ^[19] “Teacher,” they said, “Moses wrote for us that if a man’s brother dies and leaves a wife but no children, the man must marry the widow and have children for his brother. ^[20] Now there were seven brothers. The first one married and died without leaving any children. ^[21] The second one married the widow, but he also died, leaving no child. It was the same with the third. ^[22] In fact, none of the seven left any children. Last of all, the woman died too. ^[23] At the resurrection whose wife will she be, since the seven were married to her?” ^[24] Jesus replied, “Are you not in error because you do not know the Scriptures or the power of God? ^[25] When the dead rise, they will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven. ^[26] Now about the dead rising–have you not read in the book of Moses, in the account of the bush, how God said to him, ‘I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’? ^[27] He is not the God of the dead, but of the living. You are badly mistaken!” (Mark 12:18-27)

Now, we should keep in mind that the Jewish Jesus wasn’t in dialogue here with members of a completely different world religion. He was actually interacting with the members of a particular Jewish sect to which he, himself, didn’t belong.

How did Jesus act toward these fellow Jews whose religious worldview differed in some important ways from his own? What can we learn about Jesus’ view of religious relativism based upon this passage from the Gospel of Mark?

First, this passage would seem to suggest that it is Jesus’ conviction that not all worldviews, even those that are theistic, are equally accurate: it’s possible, says Jesus, for a religious worldview, though held sincerely, to be “in error” and “badly mistaken” about the way things really are.

Second, to be more specific, Jesus seems to say here that religious worldviews go awry when they don’t take into careful consideration: (a) the teaching of the Scriptures; and (b) the power of God (i.e., God’s ability and willingness to perform miracles, like raising people from the dead).

Third, since this passage shows Jesus offering a caring critique of a differing version of his own Jewish faith, we might go so far as to say that, even when it comes to evaluating differing versions of the Christian faith, we should lean toward the one that takes the Scriptures seriously while at the same time affirming God’s ability to do the miraculous.

The bottom line is that it appears that Jesus would not have embraced the popular notion of religious relativism. From his perspective, some religious worldviews are, apparently, closer to the way things really are than others. While we Christians should never assume that we have the truth about the way things really are in our back pocket, shouldn’t it be our goal to do everything we can so as to never have to hear Jesus say to us: “You are badly mistaken!”?

Something to think about.

Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God–this is your spiritual act of worship. {2} Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is–his good, pleasing and perfect will. (Romans 12:1-2)

Dr. Gregory House (of the television series House) insists that people don’t change. Both the Apostle Paul and novelist Victor Hugo would disagree, though they would also insist that real life-change requires that we do something other than adopt a legalistic, pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps approach that invariably results in an attitude of self-righteous judgmentalism toward others. (A terrible self-destructive and others-damaging attitude which, ironically, Dr. House seems to manifest quite often despite his atheistic disdain for all things religious!)

Is it really possible for people to change? What does it mean to become a holy person before God? How is this actually accomplished? How do we experience genuine life change without becoming arrogantly self-righteous and judgmental toward others? These are some crucial questions I want to address in this blog posting.

The protagonist of Victor Hugo’s novel, Les Misérables, is a man named Jean Valjean, an escaped parolee whose life is radically changed for the good when he is shown mercy and grace by a kind, sincere, forgiving bishop of the Church. I want to suggest that Jean Valjean is meant to represent every sincere Christ-follower who has truly encountered and embraced the mercy extended to him or her through the cross-work of Jesus Christ.

But the story also has an antagonist, a policeman named Javert, who is so compulsive about seeing the law kept that he makes it his great mission in life to see Jean Valjean re-arrested and re-incarcerated for the rest of his natural life.

The irony is that near the end of the story, Jean Valjean shows his mortal enemy, Javert, the same mercy and grace that he himself was once shown by the Christian bishop.

But Javert is not like Jean Valjean. He represents those people in this world (and sometimes in the church) who simply cannot receive mercy or grace. So, rather than live his life with any sense of indebtedness to Jean Valjean, Javert decides to commit suicide instead.

So, in a sense, the story told in Les Misérables is all about this business of mercy and grace. What will we do with the offer of mercy presented to us in the Christian gospel? Will we allow an embrace of God’s grace to change our lives for the good, or would we rather die (or continue to behave in ways that are ultimately hurtful to ourselves and others) than be indebted to the mercy shown to us by Jesus Christ?

Like Les Misérables, Paul’s Letter to the Romans is likewise all about this business mercy and grace. Over and over again in the first eleven chapters of this missional missive, Paul advances the idea that the key to possessing a right relationship with God is not to try to earn this standing by trying really hard in our own strength to obey the dictates of the Old Testament law (rules and rituals), but to simply receive the mercy and embrace the grace made available to us because of Jesus Christ who perfectly fulfilled the law on our behalf.

Then, having spent eleven chapters hammering away at this theme, in chapters 12-14 of his Letter to the Romans, Paul begins to talk about the effects that this embrace of God’s mercy and grace will have in his readers’ lives. He boldly states here that if we have truly experienced the mercy of God, we will find ourselves empowered to live a radically different kind of life—a life that is truly pleasing to him!

This powerful section of Paul’s Letter to the Romans begins with these words:

Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God–this is your spiritual act of worship. {2} Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is–his good, pleasing and perfect will. (Romans 12:1-2)

According to this passage, if we truly embrace God’s offer of mercy, experiencing his grace down deep in the core of our being, then we will find ourselves (like Jean Valjean) empowered to live our lives in a way that lines up with God’s good, pleasing and perfect will.

And what does God’s good, pleasing and perfect will look like? That, in a nutshell, is what Romans 12, 13 and 14 are all about. According to the Apostle Paul, if we’ve truly embraced God’s mercy and grace down deep in our hearts, we will find ourselves empowered to:

• Use whatever gift(s) God has given us for the good of others and the cause of Christ (12:3-8).
• Love people enough to speak truthfully to them about any ongoing sin still present in their lives (12:9).
• Demonstrate genuine devotion to one another, honoring each other above ourselves (12:10).
• Maintain a strong, unwavering sense of spiritual sincerity and intensity (12:11).
• Manifest an amazingly consistent joy, hope, patience and prayerfulness despite the adverse circumstances that come our way (12:12).
• Share our resources with each other as needs dictate (12:13).
• Respond with blessing rather than cursing when people treat us unfairly (12:14).
• Genuinely care for other Christ-followers, feeling their joy and pain along with them (12:15).
• Be humble enough to cultivate genuine friendships with people whom society as a whole would not characterize as especially pretty, powerful or popular (12:16).
• Simply let go of the insults and slights that come our way instead of feeling the need to get revenge every time someone does us wrong (12:17-19).
• Actually respond with kindness and goodness to those who feel the need to treat us as their enemies (12:20-21).
• Submit ourselves to the governing authorities: obeying laws, paying taxes and tolls, honoring leaders for their service to the community instead of constantly criticizing them (13:1-7).
• Be careful to pay off bills and loans in a timely manner so that no one can accuse us of defaulting on a debt or taking advantage of a friendship (13:8).
• Love our neighbors as ourselves by refusing to engage in any behavior toward them that we would not want them to engage in toward us (13:8-10). 
• Focus more on becoming Christlike than on doing those things the world says are necessary in order to “have a good time” (13:11-14).
• Learn how to live peacefully and non-judgmentally with other church members who disagree with us regarding certain worship, ministry and lifestyle issues (14:1-13a).
• Always act in such a way as to try to edify fellow church members in their walk with Christ, even if this means laying aside our own “rights” in the process (14:13b-23).

Once upon a time, Jesus was asked his opinion regarding the most important commandment of the Law. The Gospel of Matthew tells us that Jesus responded by saying …

“‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ ^[38] This is the first and greatest commandment. ^[39] And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ ^[40] All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:37-40)

Keeping the story of Les Misérables in mind, we should notice how that the list of mercy’s effects provided us by Paul in Romans 12-14 suggests that our embracing God’s grace will empower us to do precisely what Jesus instructs: love God and our neighbors in ways that are radical and practical at the same time!

For those who are concerned that an emphasis upon grace will lead to a lack of concern in the area of sanctification, the truth is that the effect of God’s mercy in one’s life is not to produce a sense of spiritual narcissism, entitlement, complacency, or sloth. To the contrary, an authentic embrace of divine grace serves as a powerful motivational force that is successful in producing genuine life change precisely because it emanates from within us via a transformed heart and a renewed mind.

In other words, yes, genuine life change is possible, but the key to becoming a more holy person is not legalism but grace. In point of fact, a legalistic approach to sanctification will make it impossible for us to become the loving people God desires us to be. In another passage, Jesus commented on the connection between our receiving mercy and our ability to extend it toward others. Speaking to a self-righteous, hard-hearted Pharisee, Jesus said:

. . .  he who has been forgiven little loves little.” (Luke 7:47)

Again, the key to our becoming truly holy people—i.e., becoming more and more loving in our relationships with God and others—is for us to humble ourselves before Christ and gratefully receive his mercy and embrace his grace.

This was the case with the literary character, Jean Valjean. It has also proved true in the lives of many millions of Christ-followers throughout the history of the Christian church.

Then again, adopting the grace-rejecting (and ultimately self-destructing and others-damaging) legalism of the policeman, Javert, remains an option as well. But taking this futile approach will only serve to reinforce the cynicism of the Dr. House’s in our world. May all of us who name the Name humbly allow the Spirit of God to help us actualize Romans 12:1-2 in our lives!

Something to think about.

A psalm of David. When he was in the Desert of Judah. O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water. {2} I have seen you in the sanctuary and beheld your power and your glory. {3} Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you. {4} I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name I will lift up my hands. (Psalms 63:1-4)

The psalmist David speaks here of being desperately thirsty for God’s presence and power in his life. Can you relate at all to this spiritual condition? Have you ever been desperately thirsty for more of God in your life? Are you there right now? If so, I encourage you to read on … and to do so with an open mind.

It’s with a desperate need for more of God at work in his life that the psalmist speaks of lifting up his hands. I want to suggest that while this prayer-and-praise posture can be one which a worshiper might assume in a thoughtless rather than thoughtful manner, it can be much more. The uplifting of our hands in praise or prayer can also function in a powerful, sacramental manner, helping us make a spiritual connection with the God we’re so desperately thirsty for.

That said, the theme of this blog posting is that maybe the lifting of our hands in prayer and praise is more important to our walk with God than even the most charismatic Christian ever imagined. Could it be that those of us who want more of God in our lives should be more careful than we might have been in the past to follow the lead of the psalmist and lift up our hands in praise and prayer?

This bold, perhaps provocative thesis is based upon the following observations:

First, the actual frequency with which the Bible refers to the devotional practice of lifting one’s hands is actually somewhat startling.

Here are some examples of biblical passages where the lifting on hands to the Lord is referred to:

When Solomon had finished all these prayers and supplications to the LORD, he rose from before the altar of the LORD, where he had been kneeling with his hands spread out toward heaven. (1Kings 8:54)

Then, at the evening sacrifice, I rose from my self-abasement, with my tunic and cloak torn, and fell on my knees with my hands spread out to the LORD my God {6} and prayed . . . (Ezra 9:5-6)

Ezra praised the LORD, the great God; and all the people lifted their hands and responded, “Amen! Amen!” . . . (Nehemiah 8:6)

Hear my cry for mercy as I call to you for help, as I lift up my hands toward your Most Holy Place. (Psalm 28:2)

When I was in distress, I sought the Lord; at night I stretched out untiring hands and my soul refused to be comforted. (Psalm 77:2)

. . . my eyes are dim with grief. I call to you, O LORD, every day; I spread out my hands to you. (Psalm 88:9)

I lift up my hands to your commands, which I love, and I meditate on your decrees. (Psalm 119:48)

I spread out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like a parched land. Selah (Psalm 143:6)

Furthermore, in several places the Bible actually exhorts God’s people to be careful to engage in this particular devotional practice.

I have in mind here such passages as:

Lift up your hands in the sanctuary and praise the LORD. (Psalms 134:2)

Arise, cry out in the night, as the watches of the night begin; pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord. Lift up your hands to him for the lives of your children . . . (Lamentations 2:19)

Let us lift up our hearts and our hands to God in heaven, and    say . . . (Lamentations 3:41)

I want men everywhere to lift up holy hands in prayer, without anger or disputing. (1Timothy 2:8)

Finally, there is a fairly solid theological argument to be made for the idea that this particular devotional practice might function sacramentally, helping us experience more of God’s presence and power in our lives.

This theological argument runs like this:

First of all, we know that the attitude of our hearts is a crucial factor when it comes to prayer and worship.

A careful read of the scriptures indicates thats it’s not just any kind of prayer and worship that gets God’s attention and elicits His blessings. How we approach God will make a huge difference in our devotional experience.

• According to 1 Samuel 2:30, God will only respond to those worshipers whose intent is to truly honor him:

“Therefore the Lord, the God of Israel, declares: ‘I promised that your house and your father’s house would minister before me forever.’ But now the Lord declares: ‘Far be it from me! Those who honor me I will honor, but those who despise me will be disdained. (1 Samuel 2:30)

• According to Jeremiah 29:13, we find God in prayer and worship only when we seek him with a deep sense of devotion and sincerity (if not desperation):

You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. (Jeremiah 29:13)

• According to James 4:6-10, we succeed in receiving God’s grace only when we approach him with an attitude of genuine humility in place:

But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says: “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” ^[7] Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. ^[8] Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. ^[9] Grieve, mourn and wail. Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom. ^[10] Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up. (James 4:6-10)

Secondly, keeping the passages just referred to in mind, it shouldn’t be difficult to see how the act of humbly lifting our hands toward God during prayer and worship can reflect the kind of heart-attitude God is looking for from His people.

Lifting our hands toward God during prayer and worship can have the effect of honoring Him while humbly demonstrating our desperation. It’s no wonder then that the Bible refers to this practice so often, and, in at least one place, suggests that it is tantamount to the offering of an acceptable sacrifice!

May my prayer be set before you like incense; may the lifting up of my hands be like the evening sacrifice. (Psalm 141:2)

Thirdly, there are passages in the Bible that suggest that God really does notice when His people do certain things during prayer and worship, and that He responds accordingly.

Here are just a few examples:

• Do you remember how God responded with grace and mercy when Hezekiah turned his face to the wall with tears of repentance?

… I have heard your prayer and seen your tears; I will heal you…. (2 Kings 20:5)

• Do you remember how God responded when he saw the repentance manifested by the king and people of Nineveh?

When God saw what they did and how they turned from their evil ways, he had compassion and did not bring upon them the destruction he had threatened. (Jonah 3:10)

• Do you remember the story of that famous battle between the people of Israel and the Amalekites that took place just after the people of Israel had escaped their Egyptian bondage? How Moses’ devotional posture seemed to make a difference in the outcome of the battle?

As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. {12} When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up–one on one side, one on the other–so that his hands remained steady till sunset. {13} So Joshua overcame the Amalekite army with the sword…. {15} Moses built an altar and called it The LORD is my Banner. {16} He said, “For hands were lifted up to the throne of the LORD….  ” (Exodus 17:11-16)

These are just three of many stories that seem to suggest to us that God sees and responds to the things we do when we approach him in prayer and worship. Could it be, then, that lifting our hands toward God in prayer and worship can be a way of signaling to him how desperately thirsty we are for his presence and power in our lives?

Well then, here’s my bold proposal: I am humbly suggesting that it’s possible for us to think of our lifting our hands to toward God during prayer and worship as a sort of sacramental action that, because of the heart-attitude it reflects, helps us experience God’s presence and power in a special way.

Here are some analogies that might help:

• Raising our hands during prayer and worship is like hoisting a sail by which we can catch and be driven by the wind of the Spirit.
• Raising our hands during prayer and worship is like raising an antenna that can help us tune in to God’s speaking voice.
• Raising our hands during prayer and worship is like raising a banner that draws God’s attention to our situation and invites Him to fight our battle for us.
• Raising our hands during prayer and worship is comparable to what a child does when it wants to be held, or what a lover does when he or she longs to be embraced, or what a friend does in order to signal welcome, acceptance or affection to another.

The bottom line is that perhaps, just perhaps, the practice of our raising our hands toward God during prayer and worship is more important to God and more helpful for us than we ever imagined.

Should we be more careful than might have been in the past to follow the lead of the psalmist and lift up our hands in praise and prayer?

Something to think about.

You will probably recognize the movie that begins with this voice over monologue:

I was sheriff of this county when I was 25 years old. Hard to believe.

My grandfather was a law man. Father too. Me and him was sheriffs at the same time; him up at Plano and me out here. I think he was pretty proud of that. I know I was.

Some of the old time sheriffs never even wore a gun. Lot of folks find that hard to believe. Jim Scarburt never carried one (that’s the younger Jim). Gaston Borkins wouldn’t wear one up in Comanche County.

I always liked to hear about the old-timers. Never missed a chance to do so. Cain’t help but compare yourself against the old-timers. Cain’t help but wonder how they’d have operated these times.

There’s this boy I sent to the electric chair at Huntsville: my arrest and my testimony. He killt a 14-year-old girl. Paper said it was a crime of passion, but he told me that they wasn’t any passion to it. Told me that he’d been planning to kill somebody for about as long as he could remember. Said that if they turned him out he’d do it again. Said he knew he was going to hell; be there in about 15 minutes. I don’t know what to make of that. I surely do don’t.

The crime you see now, it’s hard to even take its measure. It’s not that I’m afraid of it. I always knew you had to be willing to die to even do this job. But . . . I don’t want to push my chips forward . . . and go out and meet something . . . I don’t understand. A man would have to put his soul at hazard. He’d have to say, I’ll be part of this world.

Without giving away too much, I’m going to offer that by the end of this movie, the sheriff making these observations (Ed Tom Bell) had decided that the changes coming upon the world were simply beyond his ability to understand, and that he wasn’t willing to be part of that world any longer. Hence the name of the movie: No Country for Old Men.

What kind of world might we expect to experience in the not-too-distant future according to the haunting story provided us by Cormac McCarthy and the Coen Brothers?

I want to suggest that it’s a world where there is no meaning or purpose: where everything that happens, good or bad, occurs by mere chance. It’s a world where the only moral rule is that there are no moral rules: a world where it seems that the amorality produced by philosophical nihilism has become a monstrous, relentless, unstoppable juggernaut that simply can’t be reasoned with.

In other words, it’s a world without hope!

Philosophical nihilism is the belief that we live in an essentially random world void any inherent meaning or purpose. In such a world, there’s simply no ground or foundation for a thing like hope. In fact, the great architect of philosophical nihilism—Friedrich Nietzsche—once said:

Hope is the worst of all evils, for it prolongs the torments of man.

It appears that Nietzsche was a “the glass is half empty” kind of guy! Not exactly an optimist!

Of course, the starting point for Nietzsche’s philosophy of meaninglessness was the death of God. Since there is no God, said Nietzsche, there’s no inherent purpose to life, and therefore no reason to hope that good will prevail over evil in the end.

Contrary to Nietzsche, the biblical authors believed to the core of their being that God is there, that he is sovereign over the affairs of men, and that he has a plan for the planet. Thus, the biblical authors expressed a very different sentiment regarding the importance of hope. For the biblical authors, hope is huge!

According to the Bible, hope is not wishful thinking or a whistling in the dark. Biblical hope is a confident, enthusiastic sense of expectancy regarding the future. It’s a comforting confidence based on the rock-solid conviction that God is there, that he is in control, and that his benevolent purposes for humanity will most certainly be accomplished in the end.

This is why the Psalmist could say:

 I cry out to God Most High, to God, who fulfills his purpose for me. (Psalms 57:2)

This is why the author of the book of Proverbs could say:

Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the LORD’s purpose that prevails. (Proverbs 19:21)

And this is why the prophet Jeremiah could say:

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11)

The bottom line is that the Bible contains multiple passages which encourage us to keep hoping in the Lord no matter what crud comes our way during this life.

Perhaps the most famous of these hope-encouraging passages is this one from Isaiah’s prophecy:

Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. ^[29] He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. ^[30] Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; ^[31] but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. Isaiah 40:28-31

Finally, this also explains why, near the end of his monumental letter to the Romans, the apostle Paul writes:

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13)

Do you see the stark contrast between the biblical authors and Nietzsche the philosopher regarding the value and importance of hope?

This begs the question: whose estimation should we trust?

A prominent Jewish psychiatrist named Victor Frankl was arrested by the Nazis and sent to Auschwitz. He was stripped of everything—property, family, and possessions. He had spent years researching and writing a book on the importance of finding meaning in life—concepts that later would be known as logotherapy.

But when he arrived in Auschwitz, even his manuscript, which he had hidden in the lining of his coat, was taken away.

Frankl would later write:

I had to undergo and overcome the loss of my spiritual child. Now it seemed as if nothing and no one would survive me; neither a physical nor a spiritual child of my own! I found myself confronted with the question of whether under such circumstances my life was ultimately void of any meaning.

Frankl was still wrestling with that question a few days later when the Nazis forced the prisoners to give up their clothes. He describes the experience this way:

I had to surrender my clothes and in turn inherited the worn out rags of an inmate who had been sent to the gas chamber…. Instead of the many pages of my manuscript, I found in the pocket of the newly acquired coat a single page torn out of a Hebrew prayer book, which contained the main Jewish prayer, ‘Shema Yisrael’ (Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is one God. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.)

Frankl became convinced that this was no mere chance occurrence—God was reaching out to him, offering him spiritual strength in the midst of his horrendous trial. It was at that point that Frankl made the decision to not let go of his hope that, despite his circumstances, there was still meaning and purpose in his life.

Later, as Frankl reflected on his ordeal, he wrote in his book Man’s Search for Meaning:

There is nothing in the world that would so effectively help one to survive even the worst conditions, as the knowledge that there is a meaning in one’s life. . . . He who has a ‘why’ to live for can bear almost any ‘how’.

Did you hear that?

He who has a “why” to live for can bear almost any “how.”

Mark it down: hope is huge! A sense of that our lives are pregnant with divinely conferred meaning and purpose is critical!

And yet, if movies like No Country for Old Men are any indication, people in our world are losing hope, surrendering to the idea that chance and fate rule our lives, and that trying to live a moral life is a fool’s errand. One way of interpreting No Country for Old Men is as a message of warning: the effect of Nietzsche’s philosophy of nihilistic despair is coming, growing, expanding, and there’s no stopping it!

It’s into a world that is rapidly losing any foundation for hope that Jesus wants his fully devoted followers to function as spiritual salt and light!

Will we do this? Will we be the salt and light that Jesus has called and equipped us to be? Will we, like salt, confront the moral and spiritual decay that philosophical nihilism is promoting in our world? Will we, like light, chase away the moral and spiritual darkness by helping hurting, confused people (like Sheriff  Ed Bell) see just how real the risen Christ is, and why we must never, ever, ever give up hope?

I love this quote from a pastor named Kirbyjon Caldwell:

There are two great moments in a person’s life: the moment you were born and the moment you realize why you were born.

Do you know why you were born? Have you figured that out yet?

Remember, a person who has a “why” to live for can bear almost any “how.” If we are truly convinced that our lives have a sense of holy purpose attached to them, then it doesn’t matter how despairing our culture might become, or what crud God in his sovereignty allows to come our way. We can stand firm in the faith, never at a loss for hope, always possessing a capacity for love, truly and lastingly making a difference in this world for God.

Poor Sheriff Bell!

I wish he had known the reality of Christian hope. If he had, maybe he’d still be trying to make a difference in this scary new world too.

Something to think about!