Even though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death

The tragedy in Connecticut doesn't make sense. People ask questions such as "How could this happen?" or "What was his motivation" or "Where did he get the guns?" and the questions are only met with shrugging shoulders, shaking heads and pale faces.

One thing people do seem to agree on is that this was an expression of evil. Or, should I say "Evil".

Evil is real. No one doubts that, especially after something like this. Children are dead. The killer looked them in the eyes before pulling the trigger. It is unthinkable. It is unimaginable. It is, Evil.

But, it still happened. Someone got out of bed, loaded some guns, drove to an elementary school, walked in the door and methodically went room-by-room shooting children and teachers.

Children, normally petrified by small scrapes and skinned knees, witnessed the blood of their friends spill out in pools before them as life left their bodies.

Unthinkable.

Unimaginable.

Evil.

Evil is real. The disease of Evil takes many forms, morphing from lust into jealousy into deception into hatred into idolatry into murder - and in it's most pure form: the killing of innocent children.

We often don't notice Evil until it's pure form shows its grotesque, repulsive face. Evil's "lesser" forms are so prevalent that we have become desensitized to the warning signs - we can no longer see or hear or perceive the Prince of Darkness drawing closer. Even worse, we pass blame onto gun control or mental illness or poor security at schools. Meanwhile, Evil is vindicated - roaming freely through our neighborhoods.

It is often said that Satan's greatest victory is convincing the world he doesn't exist. If we don't acknowledge the enemy's very existence, we are defenseless. It's like walking blindfolded onto the battlefield. Without the eyes to see, slaughter is inevitable.

But Evil does have a very big weak spot. 

Jesus.

Evil is no match for Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd. The Prince of Peace.

Evil dreads His very name. The smallest hint of Jesus' presence sends Evil screaming.

And the prayers of those with His Spirit? Flaming arrows.

"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." - Ephesians 6:12 

Tragedies like this don't make sense because it's unnatural - unearthly. We lack the language to describe it because it is beyond us - above us.

That is, unless we're looking up. 

Come, Lord Jesus.

He Makes Me Lie Down in Green Pastures

The strange thing about sheep is that it is almost impossible for them to lie down unless four requirements are met. To be at rest there must be a definite sense of freedom from fear, tension, aggravation and hunger. A flock that is restless, discontented, always agitated and disturbed never does well. 

I didn't realize sheep are so timid and easily panicked. Even a stray jackrabbit suddenly bouncing from behind a bush can stampede a whole flock. When one startled sheep runs in fright a dozen others will bolt in blind fear, not waiting to see what frightened them.

There is also constant conflict and jealousy within the flock - the "butting" order. The more aggressive sheep will maintain their positions of prestige by butting and driving other ewes and lambs away from the best grazing. All the sheep maintain their exact position within the flock by using the same tactics of butting and thrusting at those below and around them.

One point that always interested me very much what that whenever I came into view and my presence attracted their attention, the sheep quickly forgot their foolish rivalries and stopped their fighting. The shepherd's presence made all the difference in their behavior. My presence put an end to all rivalry. - Phillip Keller, Shepherd

The same is true of people.

In our human relationships, when we become aware of being in the presence of Christ, our foolish, selfish snobbery and rivalry ends. It is the humble heart walking quietly and contentedly in the companionship of Christ that we relax - simply being glad to rest and let the world go by. 

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

When our eyes are on our Master they are not on those around us. It's good to remind ourselves that in the end it is He who will decide and judge what our status really is. After all, it is His estimation of me that really matters. Any human measurement is bound to be pretty unpredictable, unreliable and far from final.

Not only does a good shepherd remove the fear, the tension, the aggravation and hunger, but he also provides the green pasture. In Palestine where David wrote Psalm 23, green pastures didn't just happen. Green pastures were the result of clearing rough, rocky land - tearing out brush and roots and stumps. Deep plowing and careful soil preparation was needed, seeding and planting special grains and legumes and irrigating with water.

Lots of work. He really cares.

He clears the rocks of stoney unbelief. He tears out the roots of bitterness. Like clay, He breaks up the hard, proud human heart. Then, He sows the seed of his Word and waters it with the dew and rain of His presence by the Holy Spirit. He tends and cares and cultivates the life, longing to see it become rich and green and productive. These are the efforts of a Shepherd who wants to see His sheep satisfied and well fed. His concern for our care is beyond our comprehension. All we can do is lie down and enjoy it.

I Shall Not Want

[Continued]

One of the misconceptions that is common among Christians today is the assertion that if a man or woman is prospering materially it is a significant mark of the blessing of God upon their lives. This simply is not so. Based on the teachings of the Bible we can only conclude that David was not referring to material or physical poverty when he made the statement, "I shall not want."

To grasp the inner significance of this simple statement it is necessary to understand the difference between belonging to one master or another - to the Good Shepherd or to an imposter. Jesus made it quite clear that it is impossible to serve two masters. One either belonged to Him or to another.

"The tenant sheepman on the farm next to my first ranch was the most indifferent manager I had ever met. He was not concerned about the condition of his sheep. They fell prey to dogs, cougars and wolves. Every year these poor creatures were forced to gnaw away at bare brown fields and impoverished pastures. They only had polluted, muddy water to drink. I can still see them standing at the fence, huddled sadly in little knots, staring wistfully through the wires at the rich pastures on the other side. I never looked at those poor sheep without an acute awareness that this was a precise picture of those wretched old imposters, Sin and Satan - scoffing at the plight of those within their power."

Contrast that with the Shepherd to whom no trouble is too great as He cares for His flock. He is the rancher who is outstanding because of His fondness for sheep - who loves them for their own sake as well as his personal pleasure in them. He will, if necessary, be on the job twenty-four hours per day to see that they are properly provided for in every detail. Above all, He is very jealous of His name and high reputation as "The Good Shepherd." This is a perfect picture of the care given to those whose lives are under Christ's control. He knows all about their lives from morning to night.

In spite of having a perfect Master and Owner, the fact remains that some Christians are still not content with His control. They are somewhat dissatisfied, always feeling that somehow the grass beyond the protective fence must be a little greener. These are "fence crawlers" who want the best of both worlds.

"I once owned a sheep whose conduct exactly typified this sort of person. She was one of the most attractive sheep that ever belonged to me. Her body was beautifully proportioned. She had a strong constitution and an excellent coat of wool. Her head was clean, alert, well-set with bright eyes. She bore sturdy lambs that matured rapidly. But in spite of all these attractive attributes she had one pronounced fault. She was restless - discontented - a fence crawler. This one ewe produced more problems for me than almost all the rest of the flock combined.

No matter what field or pasture the sheep were in, she would search all along the fences looking for a loophole she could crawl through and start to feed on the other side. It was not that she lacked pasturage. My fields were my joy and delight. No sheep in the district had better grazing. But with this sheep it was an ingrained habit. She never learned her lesson, despite the bare, brown, burned-up pasturage on the other side of the fence. Even worse was the example she set for the other sheep. In a short time she began to lead others through the same holes and over the same dangerous paths down by the sea. 

After putting up with her perverseness for a summer I finally came to the conclusion that to save the rest of the flock from becoming unsettled, she would have to go. I could not allow one obstinate, discontented ewe to ruin the whole ranch operation. It was a difficult decision to make, for I loved her in the same way I loved the rest. Her strength and beauty and alertness were a delight to the eyes.

But one morning I took the killing knife in hand and butchered her. Her career of fence crawling was cut short. It was the only solution to the dilemma. She was a sheep, who in spite of all that I had done to give her the very best care - still wanted something else."

What a vivid reminder. No field is more lush, more green, more safe, more abundant than the field owned by the Good Shepherd. We can stop running. We can stop striving. We can sleep well, confident in His protection and provision.

Knowing this gives me a richness of spirit - a serene confidence and quiet joy. Contentment. Peace.

The Lord is my Shepherd - I shall not want.

The Lord is my Shepherd

I read a book a few years ago called, A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 by Phillip Keller.

Keller grew up and lived in East Africa, surrounded by simple native herders whose customs closely resembled those of their counterparts in the Middle East. As a young man, he made his living as a sheep owner and sheep rancher. Consequently, he writes as one who has had firsthand experience with every phase of sheep management - just like David, the author of Psalm 23. 

His insight is fascinating. I'll break down each phrase of the Psalm in separate posts...

"The Lord is my Shepherd"

It is no accident that God has chosen to call us sheep. The behavior of sheep and human beings is similar in many ways: Our mass mind (or mob instincts), our fears and timidity, our stubbornness and stupidity, and our perverse habits are all parallels of profound importance. Yet despite all these adverse characteristics Christ chooses us, buys us, calls us by name, makes us His own and delights in caring for us. How amazing it is that individual men and women vehemently refuse and reject the claims of Christ on their lives. They fear that to acknowledge His ownership is to come under the rule of a tyrant. This is difficult to comprehend when one pauses to consider the character of Christ. An unbiased look at His life quickly reveals an individual of enormous compassion and incredible integrity. He never hesitated to make it quite clear that when an individual once came under His management and control there would be a certain new and unique relationship between Him and them. There would be something very special about belonging to this particular Shepherd. There would be a distinct mark upon the man or woman that differentiated them from the rest of the crowd. 

"The day I bought my first thirty ewes, my neighbor and I sat on the dusty corral rails that enclosed the sheep pens and admired the choice, strong, well-bred ewes that had become mine. Turning to me, he handed me a large, sharp killing knife and remarked tersely, "Well, Phillip, they're yours. Now you'll have to put your mark on them." I knew exactly what he meant. Each sheep-man had his own distinctive earmark which he cuts into one or other of the ears of his sheep. In this way, even at a distance, it is easy to determine to whom the sheep belongs. 

It was not the most pleasant procedure to catch each ewe in turn and lay her ear on a wooden block then notch it deeply with the razor-sharp edge of the knife. There was pain for both of us. But from our mutual suffering an indelible lifelong mark of ownership was made that could never be erased. And from then on every sheep that came into my possession would bear my mark."

For the man or woman who recognizes the claim of Christ and gives allegiance to His absolute ownership, there comes the question of bearing His mark. The mark of the cross is that which should identify us with Himself for all time. The question is - does it?

It is a most serious and sobering transfer of ownership which should make us search our own hearts and motives...

Do I really belong to Him?
Do I really recognize His right to me?
Do I respond to His authority and acknowledge His ownership?
Do I find freedom and complete fulfillment in this arrangement?
Do I sense a purpose and deep contentment because I'm under His direction?

If so, then with genuine gratitude we can exclaim proudly, just as David did, "The Lord is my Shepherd!" I will flourish and thrive no matter what life may bring to me.

You're My Boy

One of my favorite times of the day is when I'm holding one of my sons, and I say "You're my boy" and my son says "You're my Daddy." It's a little thing I do to make my sons feel secure and loved. I learned it from my Dad, who always had a way of making my brother and I feel loved, and that he would always be there for us.

But mostly, I just love when my sons call me their daddy. I love knowing that they love me, that they rely on me, and that they trust me. 

I can't help but believe that God feels the same about our relationship with him. As believers, he has made us his sons and daughters and there is nothing that can separate us from his love.

Nothing.

Now that I'm a parent, I not only believe that more fully but I feel it - I feel God's love for me in ways I never understood. I am a flawed, tainted and sinful human being - if I can love my sons this much, how much more can a perfect God love me? Infinitely more.

How would I feel if one of my sons ran away? How would I feel if they never called to me, or talked to me? How would I feel if they never wanted to be with me? What would I do?

Hell.

It would be hell. I would never stop looking for them. I would never stop calling for them. I would do anything to get their attention.

Anything.

And God, infinitely more loving than me, also does anything to get our attention. Maybe it's an accident. Maybe it's a job loss. Maybe it's our health. Maybe it's a DWI. Maybe it's the death of a loved one.

Anything.

He never stops looking. He never stops calling for us. He never stops.

Never.

Jesus actually called God his Daddy (Abba). I can't help but think he was showing us - modeling for us - the kind of relationship God desires to share with us.

He never stops looking. He never stops calling for us. He never stops.

You are his boy.

He is your Daddy.

I'll Meet You in the Field

No story has affected me as much as the Parable of the Lost Son, or as I like to call it, the Parable of the Running Father.

Most people who know me would say it makes sense that I like this parable, because I identify with the lost son. After all, I was the lost son. I was defiant, disrespectful, and I "squandered my father's wealth in wild living" just as it says in Luke 15:13.

What affects me the most isn't the instant forgiveness of the father, although that is pretty amazing. What affects me the most is what the father did after his son returned. He didn't just forgive the son, he "ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him."

After all the terrible things the son had done to the father - disowning him,  blowing his money, breaking his heart - way off in the distance the father saw his broken son walking home and ran to him with open arms.

What is even more amazing is in that time and place, it was unheard of for grown men to run. It was considered undignified. Nevertheless, the father couldn't help himself - he ran to his son to meet him where he was. The father couldn't even wait for his son to walk through the nearby field. He saw him, and ran to meet him in the field.

And that was before the son even apologized! Already in the loving embrace of the father's arms, the son said "Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son."

And then it really got exciting. After the son expressed sorrow, the father said "Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and now is found."

This is our God. Do you think your hole is too deep to crawl out of? It's not. Do you think you need to clean up your life before God will take you back? You don't. Just turn around and walk home - He will meet you in the field.  

Shadows of Heaven

I see so many things that remind me of God. My wife often teases me because I claim to see theological implications in the most mundane details of life. I'll admit, some of my ideas may be a little far-fetched. But not all of them. I believe that Earth as we know it is a reflection of Heaven. A tainted, dim, fallen shadow of Heaven. This is why I often see evidence of Heaven on Earth. It reminds me of that verse in Colossians, "These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ."

Lately, one of the things I've been thinking about is sleeping. Yes, I see theological implications in our sleep patterns. Let me explain...

We wake up. We feel good (usually). We are renewed, refreshed, and ready for what the day may bring. We shower, we get cleaned up. We work, and work, and work some more. We pray, we eat, we relax. We get tired. Really tired. We sit down, we lay down. Our eyes get heavy. We get ready for bed, we are ready to go to sleep. We fall asleep.

Sound familiar? It sure does to me. Do you see anything else?

I believe each day we live is a condensed version of our entire lives. We wake up [we are born], we work [we grow up], we lay down [we grow old & sick] and we fall asleep [we die].

One verse of Scripture that really makes me think about this is Matthew 9:24. When the synagogue leader told Jesus his daughter had died, he was hoping Jesus would come over and lay his hands on her. The synagogue leader believed this would heal his daughter and bring her back to life. Jesus said to the man, "The girl is not dead but asleep." Jesus went in and took the girl by the hand, and she got up. Jesus 'woke up' a dead girl - a girl he referred to as "sleeping."

Jesus referred to death as being asleep, and Matthew 9:24 isn't the only reference to this. In John 11:11, after Jesus' friend Lazarus had died, Jesus said, "Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up.”

It is so interesting to me that the Lord of Heaven refers to death as being asleep. Actually, it makes me feel so much better about death. After all, as believers, when we die we are just taking a nap until the Lord Jesus wakes us up again. And when he does, oh what a day it will be!

I hope he has coffee.

To Know and Be Known

I've heard it said that the basic longing of every human soul is to know and be known. I guess that's not surprising - we are relational beings. All of us are generally happy when our relationships are fulfilling, or generally sad when our relationships are broken. When we're connected to friends & family, life seems to be more enjoyable. It's kind of funny if you think about it - if something is challenging in my life, the challenge is more bearable for me if others know about it. Has anything changed regarding my challenge? No. But somehow, the challenge is more bearable if others are with me on the journey. It's like something magical happens when we share our burdens with others, even if others are not directly helping us. Just having them know about what's going on in our lives helps get us through it. It's encouraging. It's affirming. It's validating.

Nowhere is this more apparent than on Facebook. Sometimes people post the most mundane details of their lives - things like "Heading to the grocery store - wish me luck". Why? Because just having other people know about it is validating. In that moment, it quenches their desire to be known.

And, there will inevitably be at least one person who follows it up with a "Like". There really isn't anything likeable about heading to the grocery store, but somehow it warrants a "Like". I think for the 'Liker' it's less about likeability and more about encouragement. It's kind of like saying, "Oh, you're heading to the grocery store? I know you and now I know you're going. Go for it!"

But then I started thinking to myself, Am I spending more time getting to know others, or more time trying to be known? It's really a lesson in self-centeredness. My pastor has put it this way: "Am I a 'here I am' kind of person, or a 'there you are' kind of person?" We all know them - those 'Here I am' people who walk into a room and expect everyone to notice them and give them attention. They tend to suck the life out of the entire room. Contrast that with the 'There you are' people who breathe life into the room by showing interest in others. They take attention off themselves and put it onto others, which affirms and encourages everyone they interact with. Ironically, it's the 'Here I am' people who are trying to be liked, but it's the 'There you are' people who actually succeed. People tend to love those who show interest in others. Why? Because people want to be known and you are showing interest in knowing them.

For me, the challenge isn't showing an interest in others but rather continuing to show interest after I realize they are a 'Here I am' person. They lack the conversational intuition to know when enough is enough, and they latch onto me until all my grace is gone. It's kind of like I don't want to encourage their selfishness by continuing to listen. It boggles my mind how some people will just take and take, but never give back - even among my Christian friends. I'll ask them question after question about their lives, but some of them almost never ask me a question about mine.

But, I'm sure from God's point of view I also appear to be a 'Here I am' kind of person. Most of my prayers center around me - my needs and my desires. Thank God for being an endless source of grace - He never runs out of grace to shower me with. I wish I could be more like Him. Thankfully, He is providing me with more and more reserve tanks of grace - extra measures of grace & patience which help bring me a little closer to a 'There you are' kind of person. Do I still relapse back to impatience? Sometimes. Do I still get frustrated? You bet. But, at least it's getting better.

Image of God

I often think about how the Bible describes the creation of man. In fact, since I've had children I think about it more and more.

The Bible says, "And God created man in his own image: in the image of God he created him: male and female he created them" (Genesis 1:27).

Because we often associate the word "image" with what we see with our eyes, a common sense interpretation of this would be that God made man to look like Him. But, the Bible says that God is Spirit (John 4:24) and I definitely don't look like a Spirit so it must mean something else entirely.

Since I've had children, God has really been teaching me what it means to be created in His image. In fact, I now believe He intends for us to understand this through the raising of our own children. It's through this relational interpretation of the "Image of God" that we start understanding things like the essence of love, selflessness, commitment, patience, rebellion, discipline, forgiveness and true joy. Since my two boys have been born, those words have taken on whole new meanings. I honestly don't think I understood words like selflessness and joy until I had children of my own. Now, those are more than words - those words actually hold memories for me.

Since I've had children I've come to understand that my children's relationship with me is a reflection of my relationship with Jesus. In this way, I am made as a reflection (or image) of God. God's intellect, will, emotion and relational attributes are reflected off of me and onto my children. I am therefore a reflection of God to my children - an image of God.

This is both inspiring and scary for me. Inspiring because I'm reflecting God's character to my children; and it's scary for the same reason. If I'm walking closely with Jesus, God's image becomes clearer for my children. If I turn away from Jesus, that image is obscured.

Lord, may the fruit of your Spirit, your true character, be evident in my life. May my life closely resemble your image for my children.

Audience of One

I've always been envious of the people in church who can let it all hang out. I wish I could get to the point of just blocking everything else out and going for it. Don't get me wrong - sometimes I'll do something crazy like close my eyes. Sometimes I'll join in on the clapping. Sometimes I even get a little teary-eyed. But for the most part I just take it all in and claim introversion. Maybe it's my Lutheran background. Maybe it's my Scandinavian descent. I don't know - maybe it's my insecurity. One thing I do know is that they just don't care what other people think, and I envy that.

It's easy to compare yourself to them, isn't it? I mean, they must have a really good relationship with God, for them to raise their hands up like that. Right?

I don't know. But for them, their audience consists of just One.

Dump or Dunk?

A couple years ago a friend of mine asked to meet me for lunch. I was somewhat surprised, as we never had lunch in the past and we typically didn't hang out very much. We sat down, and he mentioned he had some spiritual questions he wanted to talk about. We talked about a number of things, mainly related to the Bible and the difficulty of aligning our wayward lives with the teachings of Jesus. He came from a Catholic background and had never really connected with God in the past. When I met with him he was attending a new church, and for the first time he was really connecting with God. Our conversation went very well and we ended up meeting a few more times after that.

I saw him last week at a social gathering, and he told me he was still attending the new church and that he recently chose to be baptized in a nearby lake. I was thrilled for him and encouraged him in his faith. Another girl who is Catholic overheard us and asked, "Weren't you baptized as a baby?" My friend said that he was, but he chose to be baptized by immersion with his new church. The girl looked a little confused...

It's funny how something like baptism can be seen so differently by different people - people who all consider themselves to be Christian. The issue of baptism has divided churches, friends and even families. It's sad to think that something like baptism can be so divisive. After all, it's just water. Right?

If you haven't heard, Christians are baptized one of two ways: the sprinkling of water on the head (normally as a baby), or immersion in water (normally as an adult). I won't engage in the discussion about which method is proper, because I see it as less about the method and more about the age of the person being baptized. Why? Because in the Bible, baptism always involved a personal decision and babies can't make decisions.

So what exactly is baptism, and why do people do it? In the Bible, baptism symbolizes the beginning of a new spiritual life. It's not magical, it's not a get-into-heaven free card and no special water is needed. It's an outward symbol of an inward reality. After accepting that Jesus is who he said he is and making a decision to follow him, sinking into the water symbolizes the death of our old life, and when we rise out of the water it symbolizes our new birth into a new life with Jesus Christ. I guess at that point we could refer to ourselves as a "born-again" Christian because at that point, our new life begins and sin begins to lose its grip on our lives. As a new creation we will learn to crawl, then walk, and one day run! We may stumble, but God promises we will continue to grow. In Romans chapter 6 it says, "We are those who have died to sin; how can we live in it any longer? Or don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life." 

So how did infant baptism get started? Infant baptism had its beginning in the early stages of what is now the Catholic church, which has influenced other denominations such as Lutherans, Presbyterians and Anglicans. Catholics in particular believe that the act of baptism is more than just an outward symbol of an inward condition - they believe that baptism holds power - the power to wipe away the original sin of Adam & Eve. Since everyone is born with a 'sin disease' that they inherit from Adam & Eve, Catholics believe that the act of baptism heals babies of this disease. More specifically, they believe baptism wipes away the guilt of this disease. In other words, they believe babies move from guilty to innocent in the eyes of God. Sadly, there is absolutely no biblical basis for this. The Bible is clear: the only way to be in right standing before God is to believe in Jesus - to trust that He suffered the penalty for our sins - ALL sins (original sin, our past sins, our present sins and our future sins). The Bible says Jesus is the key to being forgiven, not water. Does this mean that babies won't go to Heaven if they die? Absolutely not. Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 19:13-14). He also says, "Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 18:3). God loves your children more than you do!

Also, a Catholic understanding of baptism doesn't work. As children get older, the ugly effects of original sin begin to show. For example, children start to lie. They become rebellious. They are self-centered. Not that this is any of their fault - they are just affected by the disease of original sin. Sprinkling water on their head doesn't change this.

Nor does baptism by immersion change this. The point of baptism isn't the cancelling of sins, it's simply symbolic of new life. It's a point in time that believers can look back on which marked the beginning of their new life with Jesus Christ. To say that baptism wipes away sin discredits Jesus. It discredits his death for us and it discredits his authority over us. It 'takes' the keys to Heaven away from Jesus and throws them into a basin of water.

It's this line of thinking that takes the focus off Jesus, and puts it on things we do rather than things Jesus has done. As this line of thinking progresses, we start focusing on 'religion' rather than the condition of our hearts. This is what led Jesus to say to the Pharisees, "Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean. Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness" (Matthew 23:26-28).

Jesus can't stand it when people 'go through the motions' rather than focusing on letting Him change them from the inside out. "The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart" (1 Samuel 16:7).

Personally, for me it's a constant struggle to remember this. Our spirituality is the only facet of our lives that isn't performance-based. It's counter-intuitive to me. My job evaluates me on my performance, others judge me based on my performance and if I'm honest, I also judge others based on their performance. Isn't it great to know we have a God who loves us unconditionally? What a relief! A loving God certainly wouldn't expect a civilization of fallen ragamuffins to earn their way back to Him by the sprinkling of water, jumping in a lake, eating bread or drinking wine. No way. He wants our hearts back.

A Heavy Anchor

While in high school I worked at a marina on Lake Waconia. We stayed busy, selling bait & tackle to fishermen, renting boats and pumping gas. But on cold and rainy days it was pretty slow, so I would just sit in the bait shop and stare out the window at the lake. It was hypnotizing.

About 50 yards out from shore were sailboats. Customers would pay to keep them there, anchored to the bottom of the lake.

On cold & windy days I would stare out and watch the high winds pound the sailboats around their anchor buoys. Sometimes the storms got so strong and the wind blew so hard that the sailboats would pull their anchor buoys right out of the water, exposing the rusty chains that held them to their anchors at the bottom of the lake. I remember thinking, wow, those must be some heavy anchors. They never budged.

Our spiritual lives are much like those sailboats. When the waters are calm we may feel the occasional tug of our anchor, but for the most part we just float around, bouncing from one wave to the other. But when the storms come, we cling to our anchor, praying that it keeps us from blowing to the rocky side of the lake. Without an anchor, we are at the mercy of the storms. Even worse - we are controlled by the storms.

The Bible calls this "Meaningless - a chasing after the wind" (Ecclesiastes 2:10-11). To be tossed and turned by the circumstances of our lives brings us to no real destination. One day we go this way, the next day we go the other. It's meaningless - a chasing after the wind.

Contrast that with what Hebrews 6:19 says, "We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure." The hope referred to in this passage is the promise of God - the promise of the continual presence of Jesus' Spirit in our lives. It's the promise that He is with us through the storms of life, He is with us in calm waters, and He will be back - making it all worthwhile.

I don't know what storms are going on in your lives right now, but I would encourage you to remember just how heavy your anchor really is. Sometimes the storms get so strong, and the wind blows so hard that is pulls our anchor buoys right out of the water, exposing the rusty chains which bind us to Christ. But, they are strong chains, and He is a heavy anchor. We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.