Wednesday, November 4, 2026

Midweek: Time for Glory

In a book by Judith Viorst, a young boy named Alexander has a "terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day." Life seems to mock him either through sins of commission (he wakes up with gum in his hair) or sins of omission (even his mother forgets to give him dessert). As adults, we appreciate the charm of Alexander's innocent belief that, somehow, there is a conspiracy of betrayal. In fact, when my own childish and self-absorbed thoughts get the better of me, I can't honestly deny an even greater immaturity of my own! Perhaps we have all had those moments --or days --when we act as if all the world is against us.

John 13 records Jesus last few hours before He will be falsely tried and convicted, sentenced, beaten almost to death, and executed. Surely, all the world had come against Him; His own countrymen, the government, and even, His friends. Verse 30 records the moment in which Judas headed into the night to betray the very One who loved him to the end. A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad thing indeed! But how did Jesus respond?

Now the Son of Man is glorified, and God is glorified in Him. (v. 31)

The glorification of the Son for the glorification of the Father and the good of an entire Kingdom of people had begun! Now! In the betrayal, in the custody of those who desired to silence Him, in the fear that would strike His disciples, in the cowardice of a self-seeking governor, in the bloodthirsty cries of a gathering crowd, in the beating at the hand of those who delighted in inflicting pain on others, in the humiliating execution, in the silence that would follow. This is what victory looked like. This was the glorification of our Savior. But before it would be completed, Jesus made time for a lesson in love.

Lord, where are You going? The words of Peter as Jesus began, once again, to speak His final words to His followers. Have you ever tried teaching a young child about something that is clearly not as interesting to them as the wrinkles on your face or the dog barking three streets away? I imagine Peter this way; so passionate, yet so distracted by what he sees as a need for cold, hard facts. Once he's got them, he's all in; but he's got to have the details first! And imagine Jesus, His heart aching to deliver to them this critical message, the impetus for their work as they established the Church universal. Love one another.  

Lord, I would lay down my life for you! Again, Peter. Where could his friend possibly go that he would not want to follow? And Jesus tells him:

The rooster shall not crow till you have denied Me three times. (v. 38)

Fear will overtake you. You are not yet strong enough to face your cross. One day you will be, but not before your work on earth has been done. For now, just do this one thing I am asking you to do; for now, just love.

Our pastor laments that we often dream of costly obedience while struggling with, becoming irritated by, even avoiding inconvenient obedience; those things we don't care much to do or are not within our natural inclinations. But the words of Jesus as His glorification began to take shape --Love one another --are the same for us, those who are the Church springing forth out of the disciples' obedience. Not self-absorption, but self-sacrificial love; laying down one's life for another, obedience unto death for the sake of the Body and the glory of our High King in Heaven. Not a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, but a time for glory brought about by obeying the command to simply love.

      

Monday, November 2, 2026

Who Will You Elect to Trust?

As this goes to post, mid-term elections are less than twenty-four hours away. Lots to talk about there, but what happens after the election? Not who is going to remove all of those hideous signs stuck in every median, roadside, and green space --although, if you know whose job it is, be sure to send them to our neighborhood --but what about the inevitable disappointment that comes with "your" candidate losing or "your" candidate not doing as promised? We've all been there. How do we respond to those things? How do we handle the fear that creeps into our minds when we see a moral issue abandoned for immorality? How do we live under policies we're sure will tear our country or county apart? In Daniel 6 we see how Daniel of the Bible responded to some terrible policy making.

Daniel was an Israelite, kidnapped by the Chaldeans and sent to Babylon for something of a social experiment. The king of Babylon took David and some of his exceptional Jewish friends and attempted to make Babylonians out of them; his country could benefit from Israel's "best and brightest." Now, Daniel and his friends made it a habit of obeying God and, so long as God's way did not differ from the king's way, he let them have their fun. In Daniel 6 is where we find that some issues developed. Daniel's success led to some jealousy among the other people in the king's cabinet, so to speak. You see, Daniel had done such a great job, the king, Darius, wanted to make Daniel their boss. They weren't too pleased with that idea and sought a way to find fault with him. Was he cheating the king? taking too long a lunch break? sleeping with one of the king's harem? No, no, and no. But he was praying and serving his God all day, every day. That, they decided, would be their "in." 

They went to the king and, after some grotesque flattery, got him to put his stamp on an edict that made petitioning any "god" other than the king punishable by a trip to the den of lions. He went for it, and they went to spy on Daniel. It didn't take them long. Daniel 6:10 says that when Daniel heard the law had been signed, he went home and prayed at his open window (facing Jerusalem) as he always had. No doubt, Daniel saw this as a cause for great prayer; not a time to abandon it. His enemies had their intel and ran straight to the king with it.

Was Darius so distracted by the weightier issues of his role, he signed his best guy's death sentence simply to get rid of his pesky governors? Did he not consider how this could be used against Daniel who faithfully, visibly prayed to the Hebrew God? Or did the king not know this was Daniel's routine? Did the sycophantic twaddle of Daniel's adversaries make his head swim with grandiose thoughts of his own importance and, well, he deserved that sort of respect? Whatever his motives, the king's edict could not be reversed, and Daniel was cast into the lion's den. The king spent the night without food, entertainment, or sleep. We might even assume Daniel got more sleep that night than the king (!) for when the king got to the den of lions the next morning, his plaintive call was met with the strong shout of his very best guy:        

Oh, king, live forever! (v. 21) May the king who rashly (?) ignorantly (?) pridefully (?) signed an order forbidding me to pray to my God, upheld the villainy of my enemies, and condemned me to ravenous lions live forever! Impressive. To make all of this more extraordinary, this was a pagan king. Daniel had been abducted and sent to this land; this was not his home. But he had submitted to this king's authority. He prayed for his good. Daniel's extreme loyalty to an earthly king, in a place he did not belong did not outweigh or override his loyalty to his God. Rather, it was because of his loyalty to a heavenly King, he could pray for the blessing of the king he served in Babylon. It was because he trusted his God's sovereignty over every kingdom, Daniel could pray for the good of the kingdom of Darius. 

And the same is possible for us today no matter who is our boss or mayor or union rep or teacher or even our president. Every trial, every pressure in life reveals where we have placed our trust. Trust in anything or anyone other than Christ is evidenced by panic and chaos, fear and disappointment, vitriol aimed at others or a withdrawal from the lives of our neighbors. Trust in people or things which cannot ultimately deliver us is often found to be empty and can leave us with feelings of betrayal or apathy. But trust in the One True King, the God who made heaven and earth, who is merciful and faithful and mighty --trust in the Almighty alone is characterized by rest and peace. 

So, when the elections are over, when your candidate is or isn't in office, let's pray. For our country and communities, our leaders and those who would be, for our family and friends who may be struggling with the impact of new policies, those on the "other side of the aisle," and for our own hearts, that Christ might be at the very center and our trust might be in Him. And, if we're out and about, let's help get rid of some of those signs.  

Thursday, October 29, 2026

Indulge Me, Please, in a Little Revolt

The Protestant Reformation, I answered confidently.

Our youngest was grilling me on some of the things he'd learned in his religion class. 

That's not what this says, he countered. What is r-e-v-o-l-t?

Revol-- Revolt?! I exclaimed in dismay. I was clearly offended. Our son attends a school that does not align entirely with our beliefs. And before I catch any hate, we have personal reasons. Additionally, do public schools attended by millions of children across the country teach creationism in their science curricula? 'nuf said. 

So, as I've pointed out, one of the ways we are misaligned is with regard to the Protestant Reformation and its nomenclature. But another way is with regard to one of the Reformation's more infamous catalysts, the practice of indulgences. I bring this up because I recently heard a teaching on indulgences from a Catholic perspective. I've noticed an uptick in videos "clarifying" Catholic doctrine. This is not what you've always heard it is. We don't do the things you've always been told we do. That sort of thing. And the recent teaching I heard with regard to indulgences was that indulgences never gave license to sin; indulgences do not forgive sin. 

I'll be honest, I know very little about the history of the Catholic church. What little I recall was taught within the framework of a Protestant school and a teacher who, each year, dressed as Johann Tetzel. Every class eagerly anticipated her performance and I, like many others, paid little attention to any other lecture she gave. But I'm willing to concede for the sake of argument, Protestant teaching about indulgences are a long-held myth (despite what could be the most honest title I've come across when searching for an explanation of indulgences, The Catholic View on Indulgences and How They Work Today, from Myriam Renaud of the Department of Religious Studies, DePaul University. Note the Today). So, assuming indulgences were never intended for the forgiveness of sins, assuming one could not purchase an indulgence in anticipation of committing some sin, assuming indulgences never existed as a Get Out of Jail FREE card (with regard to purgatory), what does the Catholic church teach is their purpose today?

In a word, it's complicated. I'm providing a link to the Catholic Encyclopedia here: CATHOLIC ENCYCLOPEDIA: Indulgences, and giving you what seems to be the most popular, abbreviated version here:

An indulgence is a dispensation or grant of God’s mercy that removes the temporal punishment due to one’s sins whose guilt has already been forgiven—normatively through the sacrament of penance (commonly known as confession). This dispensation is made possible through the Church’s treasury of merits, which “is the infinite value . . . which Christ’s merits have before God,” plus the prayers and good works of the faithful, which have merit in Jesus (CCC 1476-1477).

In short, after God forgives one’s sins, there typically remains temporal punishment due as a result of that sin. An indulgence is what lessens, or removes, that remaining punishment. It’s kind of like the kid who breaks his neighbor’s window. The neighbor can forgive the child for the offense, and yet the kid still needs to help pay for the broken window.

Similarly, even if one has repented and received forgiveness for his sins, that doesn’t necessarily mean he has fully detached from the bad habits associated with his sins. Thus the need to do penance, and benefiting from the merciful remission of the related punishment granted though an indulgence.

In short, the saints who have gone before us and Christ Himself have left us with a surplus of merits stemming from their good works. Those merits are granted by the church to "the faithful," those who have by some means earned the indulgence, discharging their debt during their life on earth. These "acts of mercy" are, according to current Catholic teaching, valid both in the tribunal of the Church and in the tribunal of God (I'm not thoroughly convinced they checked with Him on this) and purify the "marks left on the soul" by sin.

So, does God require us to pay for the broken window? Well, if the wages of sin is death, as Romans 6:23 tells us, none of us would have been able to play ball more than once. But we have a Mediator; One who paid our debt and "purchased" a new life for us; One who enables us to walk righteously (yes, in God's tribunal); One who sanctified us, is sanctifying us, and will sanctify us; One who cleanses our conscience and has done all this once for all! That being said, I'm not sure what's left for a self-respecting indulgence-granting church to do. I'm not sure any further payments need to be made. I'm not sure the "marks left on the soul" are beyond the purview of the Holy Spirit's sanctifying work. And I'm not so sure a little revol-- Oops! --reform isn't necessary now and again.

Happy Reformation Day!!

Wednesday, October 28, 2026

Midweek: Time for a Lesson in Love

As we age, the brevity of our time here on earth becomes a greater reality. What are we doing with that time? Trying to fill it with as many distractions as possible? Checking off boxes on some self-published bucket list? Slowing down, having coffee with a friend or taking a walk? Trying to reach as many people for Jesus as possible? 

Last week, we took a very brief look at Jesus' last meal with His friends. In John 13, we see the Son of Man assuming the role of a household servant --even facing protest --to demonstrate His love and teach His disciples in His final hours. His time with them was fleeting and it was essential for them to receive what He was giving them: a lesson in relationship. And as He returned to His place at the table, He draws their attention to His actions, urging them to do for one another what He has done for them. Blessed are you if you do them (v. 17). But there is an overwhelming sadness in Jesus' words; He knows not everyone of His friends will comply. Sadly, the one who will not, his time is as brief as his Teacher's. He will not use his remaining hours wisely.   

Why did Jesus reveal the plot to betray Him? For the good of those who would continue, who would wash another's feet, humbly serve others, and even, treat with honor those who were dishonorable.

I don't want to tell you what to think about this series of events, but I would like to leave you with some questions to ponder:

- How undiscerning did the disciples have to be that they could not detect a rat in their midst? These men were doing life together, walking miles and, presumably, talking along the way, day after day. And they didn't know?

- How good of a grifter did Judas have to be that no one but Jesus could perceive his deception? Even after Jesus had passed him the bread... Even after Jesus sent him into the night...

- How great was Jesus' love for Judas that no one detected a problem? Jesus was grieved by the idea that any would be lost --but not for His own sake --He was grieved for Judas, not by Judas. No one around Him saw anything but perfect love. 

Time is precious. When we think of it that way, most would acknowledge, we have no desire to waste it. But we do. We waste it with foolishness and a lack of discernment in how we spend it or with whom we spend it. We waste it keeping up an image that is disingenuous and separates us from intimate relationships. We waste our time with bitterness over the betrayals and offenses of others.

Even in Jesus' final hours, His character did not waver. He showed love because He is love; a final lesson to His disciples.