Disqualified?

 August 11, 2023

My late father-in-law was one of the pioneers of NASCAR, racing on the beach at Daytona in the early fifties alongside such drivers as Lee Petty, Tim and Fonty Flock, Herb Thomas and Red Byron. Not having grown up in that racing milieu, I knew nothing about stock car racing until I met and started dating his daughter, Linda. 

One of the things I learned was how before a big race, each driver had to qualify; to drive around the track as fast as possible, the fastest time earning the coveted pole position, and all the others lined up behind according to the ascending time it took to circle the track. One’s qualifying time was all-important for the big race.

When our sons began competitive swimming in the Boys’ Club, and later in high school, even worse than coming in last in a race was to be disqualified because of a false start, missed turn, improper stroke. Disqualification felt shameful.

In 2 Corinthians 13:5, Paul tells us to “examine yourselves as to whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves. Do you not know yourselves that Jesus Christ is in you, unless indeed you are disqualified.” There’s that word again—“disqualified.” How can that happen in Christian life?

In Colossians 1:12, we read that God has qualified us through faith in Jesus Christ. After telling us this, there follows the test of whether we are in the faith: true believers are partakers of an inheritance, delivered from darkness, translated in to the domain of God’s Son of love, redeemed and forgiven. God in Christ has qualified us, allowing us into his race of eternal life. The test, the evidence that we have actually received that qualification is whether or not we live with an eye to our future inheritance, whether or not we are being delivered from darkness and are learning the language of heaven, whether or not we are still living as slaves to sin, or are being delivered from the old ways of our lives.

When I read 2 Corinthians this morning, it felt like I had never seen those words before, and I had to examine myself as to whether or not I am in the faith. I had to test myself to see if I had qualified. Am I living for a future inheritance, or is my vision limited to this world and life? Am I being delivered from darkness, learning the customs and language of heaven? Am I still in bondage to sin, or am I being delivered? Do I live in forgiveness? Am I offering it to others?

These are weighty questions that dig deep into my soul. I examine and test myself, not because I am worried about losing my salvation, but because having watched swimmers get disqualified, I’m not in this race all by myself. I am part of a team, and if one disqualifies, the whole relay is disqualified. Others depend on me, as I depend on them. So I examine myself, test myself because Jesus Christ is in me, and what I do reflects on him. 

The Battle

 August 9, 2023

Sometimes when I hear Christians speak of spiritual warfare or of being spiritual warriors, I cringe at the enthusiasm they exhibit. Soldiers train for combat, but no one in his right mind enjoys it. It is grueling, ugly, often ghastly nightmare-inducing business where living human beings suffer and die in sometimes unimaginable ways. So when I hear a Christian who revels in “spiritual warfare,” I tend to back away slowly.

And yet, it is a reality we must face. This world is not our home, is not our friend. James said it well: “To be friends with the world is to be an enemy of God” (4:4). Paul told Timothy that we must think like soldiers, and no soldier wants to go into battle un- or ill-equipped. In Ephesians, Paul lays out the equipment we have been given by God for the spiritual battles we inevitably encounter in life. 

In Ephesians 6:14-17, he lists the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, shoes of  the gospel of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit (the word of God), as the only weapons we need. Any others are in fact, the weapons of our Opponent, and using them compromises our struggle.

If in Ephesians 6, Paul identifies our weapons, in 2 Corinthians 10:4-6, he tells us of their effectiveness:

“For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty in God for pulling down strongholds, casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ, and being ready to punish all disobedience when your obedience is fulfilled.”

They are mighty, even when they seem weak and powerless. These weapons in Ephesians 6 can do the impossible:

They pull down strongholds.

They cast down arguments and all that exalts against the knowledge of God.

They bring every thought captive to Christ.

They punish disobedience.

We like the first three, but this last one stops us in our tracks. Punishment is not a word we often hear in church, and conjures up all sorts of images of scarlet letters, excommunication, and witch-burning. I don’t think that’s what Paul means.

Jesus said, and Paul reiterated that we Christians will someday judge the nations and even angels (1 Corinthians  6:2-3), but not yet. We are repeatedly and explicitly warned against judging others in this lifetime. I think rather than giving Christians Carte Blanche to judge others, he is telling us that these spiritual weapons we embrace include the spiritual insight and readiness that will enable us to fulfill our destiny when Jesus returns as Righteous Judge. Only when our own “obedience is fulfilled” will the full effectiveness of our spiritual weapons be seen.

Until that day, we pull down evil strongholds, counter ungodly arguments, and bring every thought captive to Christ. And the battlefield is not mainly “out there;” my biggest battle is within my own heart. If I can pull down my inner strongholds, counter my ungodly arguments, and bring my every thought captive to Christ, I will have won a great victory.

Further Along

 August 8, 2023

On my way in to our local pastors’ prayer group this morning, I was listening to a podcast by Andy Stanley. At one point, he mentioned his father, Charles Stanley, who at the time was 86. He told of his dad calling him up one day to ask if he knew of anyone “further along.” Andy said, “Dad, at your age, there’s not many people further along than you.” 

He went on to say that even at that advanced age, his father was looking for someone who was better, more experienced, from whom he could learn and grow. It got me to thinking, “Have I stopped looking for someone with more experience, a better understanding, a deeper walk with Christ? Have I settled for coasting along in life, satisfied with what I already know, content with whatever I’ve accomplished? Have I gotten to the place where instead of wrestling with Scripture, I’m OK with merely recycling old sermons and Bible studies?”

During my last trip to Cuba, I lost my backpack with all my teaching notes for leadership, family life, sermon preparation, and Bible study. This was many years’ worth of work gone in a moment. Of all the things I lost, this was the most difficult to take, but perhaps it was another blessing in disguise, for it is forcing me to get back to work, to do the research and put the effort into developing new material. I no longer have the luxury of coasting, of mental and spiritual laziness. 

I once stated that I believed there are many preachers who preach to save their own souls. I still believe that. Many of us would have fallen by the wayside if we hadn’t needed to face a congregation every Sunday with something new and fresh from God’s Word. It’s too easy to be complacent, and sadly, too easy to get away with it.

I want to be like Charles Stanley, who kept looking for someone who knew more than him, who could mentor him so he could keep growing. The alternative is to stagnate, to die while refusing to be buried. That’s not the life I want, so I am choosing to learn, to reach, to grow.

Included

 August 7, 2023

I don’t understand how a song from fifty years ago just pops into my head. On my way home from our men’s Bible study tonight, the tune and some of the lyrics suddenly came to me (I remember melodies better than lyrics). So I looked it up (Thank you, internet!), and the memories flooded back. I am fifteen, standing with the congregation in our Sunday evening song service. Ozzie Palmer is at the side of the pulpit, holding the hymnal in one hand, waving his other hand, leading the congregation in song.

“I am so happy in Christ today,
That I go singing along my way;
Yes, I’m so happy to know and say,
“Jesus included me, too.”

Refrain:
Jesus included me, yes, He included me,
When the Lord said, “Whosoever,” He included me;
Jesus included me, yes, He included me,
When the Lord said, “Whosoever,” He included me.

Gladly I read, “Whosoever may
Come to the fountain of life today”;
But when I read it I always say,
“Jesus included me, too.”

Refrain

Ever God’s Spirit is saying, “Come!”
Hear the Bride saying, “No longer roam”;
But I am sure while they’re calling home,
Jesus included me, too.

Refrain

“Freely come drink,” words the soul to thrill!
Oh, with what joy they my heart do fill!
For when He said, “Whosoever will,”
Jesus included me, too.

Yes, Jesus included me when I felt an outcast and outsider. He included me when I faltered and failed. He included me though I didn’t deserve his grace and goodness. Jesus included me! And praise God, you are included in his “whosoever”—He included you, too. 

Skipping Meals

 August 5, 2023

It’s hard for me to understand Christians whose Bibles remain closed from Sunday to Sunday. Yesterday, my son Matt and I were on a fifteen-hour road trip to pick up his 1942 Harley WLA motorcycle from the shop in Virginia where we had taken it for assembly back in May. We had driven for seven hours the night before, getting to a hotel at 2:30 in the morning where we crashed for a few hours before resuming our trip in the morning. When I say we drove, it means Matt drove and I rode. Either way, it was a long trip.

We needed to get down and back as quickly as possible, which for me meant that I didn’t get my usual morning time in the Word and prayer. We both prayed along the way, especially as we drove through West Virginia through the night, where it seems we encountered deer around every curve in the road. I’ve never seen so many at once; we didn’t count, but we had to have passed 200 of them in the night, not one of which offered to jump in front of us, for which we gave continual thanks.

When we got to the shop (BTW, it’s Resurrection Cycle Works, owned and run by a devout Christian who is not the least bit shy about sharing his faith), I discovered to my great dismay that I had lost my checkbook. A quick call to the hotel confirmed that one of the cleaning staff found it and turned it in (Thank you, Jesus!). We could pick it up on the way back, but were faced with the problem of how to pay for the work Steve had done. He doesn’t take credit cards, and I didn’t have enough cash to cover the work, but then he asked if I had a PayPal account. Again, Thank you, Jesus! A few strokes on my phone, and we were in business.

But I still hadn’t time to read my Bible and pray as I usually do, and this morning, I could feel the emptiness creeping into my soul. I sat down to read and pray, and could feel God’s peace flooding over me. 

There are plenty of times I follow my routine and come away feeling, “Well, THAT didn’t accomplish much,” but regular prayerful reading of Scripture is like sitting down for a meal. I can’t say as I’ve ever felt stronger when I get up from the table, but I know if I were to eat but one meal each week, my body would soon begin to break down. Time with the Lord is like that; you might not feel better when you’re done, but you are definitely worse off when it’s neglected. I’m glad I don’t often have to make road trips like we had the last two days. And I’m even more glad I don’t have to skip my spiritual meals very often.

Glorious, Splendiferous Majesty

 August 2, 2023

David’s life was far from easy. As a young shepherd, he had the responsibility of caring for the flock, facing off against both lion and bear. He refused to be cowed by Goliath’s size, and ran towards his towering adversary. He was a man on the run for most of his predecessor’s reign, and even as king, trouble dogged his every step. His was not a life of unencumbered success.

The psalms he wrote often had themes of tragedy, loneliness, danger, and despair, but at some point in his lament, he always would turn to God for strength, guidance, and hope. This morning, as I read one of these psalms, I was struck by the contrast between how David approached life and how I did the same.

“I will extol You, my God, O King; 

And I will bless Your name forever and ever. 

Every day I will bless You, 

And I will praise Your name forever and ever. 

Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised; 

And His greatness is unsearchable. 

One generation shall praise Your works to another, 

And shall declare Your mighty acts. 

I will meditate on the glorious splendor of Your majesty, 

And on Your wondrous works.”

—Psalm 145:1-5 

The second phrase strikes me: “Every day I will bless you…” So much of my prayers are requests; “God, do this, give me that, help that person…” Precious little of my prayer time is invested in blessing and praising God. “Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised.” We ask God for things, but do we recognize his greatness, his ability and willingness to intervene? So often, the mindset behind our prayers is more like wishful thinking than faithful praying.

Then there are these words: “I will meditate on the glorious splendor of your majesty.” The words roll easily off the tongue, but it seems as if David were piling up words to emphasize his point: “Glorious. Splendor. Majesty.” I cannot even begin to parse the depth of those words; God’s Person is so far beyond my wildest imagination that these descriptions only skim the surface of who he is. But if I meditate upon such words, my heart begins to grasp the hem of his garment, as it were. Worry and weariness are supplanted by peace, joy, and hope. The troubles of this life are diminished, cut down to their proper size next to the immensity of God. 

Let those words sink in: “the glorious splendor of God’s majesty.” Repeat them over and over till they seep into your soul and shape your unconscious self. And remember that this One whose greatness is beyond our understanding loves you. Just as you are, but so that you don’t have to stay that way. He wants you not only to see the glorious splendor of his majesty; he wants you to partake of it, to experience it for yourself, no matter what trial you are going through at the moment.

SEEING

 August 1, 2023

“But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord.”

—II Corinthians 3:18 

I had an appointment with the optometrist today. My double vision has been getting worse, so in I went. They went through all the normal tests, then the doctor ran some special tests on me that told him the corrective measures I need to be able to see clearly. This morning’s Scripture came to life. It’s all about seeing.

Mirrors in Biblical times were usually made of polished brass. The image reflected would have been dim, imperfect, and somewhat blurry, merely an approximation of reality, but it was the best they had. Paul’s analogy is true to life. We see the Lord’s glory only partially…dimly, as it were. We don’t see the full glory of his visage; to do so, the Biblical writers uniformly assert, would kill us. But though our vision is only partial, it has the power to transform us, bit by bit enabling us to approach the glory we see only in part. Someday we will see him face to face, in his full glory, and when that happens, we shall truly be like him (1 John 3:2).

Psalm 115:8 and 135:18 tell us that we become like what we worship, which is why setting our gaze upon Jesus Christ is paramount. If I aspire in any way to be like him, the Perfect Man (even though I see him imperfectly), I must, as Hebrews 12:1-2 says, keep my eyes fixed on him. 

The entire fourth chapter of 2 Corinthians deals with sight. The god of this age shines his false light in our eyes, blinding us to the real light of Christ that exposes him for the liar he is, keeping our focus on the things of this world which are easily seen, making it difficult to see those things which cannot be seen—love, truth, hope, forgiveness, salvation. Our first instinct is to look at those things easily seen by anyone. It requires the work of the Holy Spirit opening our eyes to the Scriptures to see clearly. In this life, we still see dimly, but we do see, and as we keep our gaze upon Jesus, that sight gets clearer day by day.