"know-it-all"-ism

Matthew 10:24-39

A.J. Jacobs is a “know-it-all,” and I know he wouldn’t mind me saying so. In fact, he devoted a large portion of his life to becoming one. He did it by reading the entire Encyclopaedia Brittanica from cover to cover. All 32 volumes. All 32,000 pages, all forty-four million words. Along the way, he learned: “the name of Turkey’s leading avant-garde publication…that Bud Abbott was a double-crosser and John Quincy Adams married for money...[and] that there’s a heated controversy over who invented the accordion”. All that, among other things, was just in the first 100 pages! In the end, he made it the title of his book “The Know-it-All: One Man’s Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World” (2004, Simon and Schuster).

You and I are most likely nothing like Mr. Jacobs. If we’ve read any bit of an encyclopedia, it was probably when we were in grade school collecting facts for a report, and even then we probably “skimmed” or “gleaned” more than we read. Most of us would shy away, and even resent the implication that we were in any way a “know-it-all.” Yet, if we are followers of Jesus, then much of the world sees us this way.

In an open-ended study of impressions of churches and church-goers by people ages 17 to 29, the top three characteristics listed about Christians were: “hypocritical, insensitive, and judgmental” (unchristian:What a New Generation Really Thinks about Christianity…and Why it Matters. Kinnamon and Lyons. Baker, 2007). All of this can be summarized in one term: “know-it-all.” A.J. Jacobs may have written the book on it, but it seems that when it comes to being “know-it-alls” that we’ve made a household name for ourselves out of it.

Don’t be alarmed, though. This doesn’t seem to be anything new. Two-thousand years ago, Jesus confronted “know-it-all”-ism as well. In Matthew 10:24 he tells his followers: “The learner isn’t above the teacher and the servant isn’t above the master…it’s enough that you’re like me; the idea isn’t that you are me.” Whenever you or I are tempted to become “know-it-alls” for Jesus, he seems to remind us that we’ve still got a lot to learn.

So how can the Christian church today shed this “know-it-all” image that we seem to have gotten ourselves into? Jesus has a solution: “Forget about yourself.” Forget about the answers, forget about being “right”, forget about trying to be above the teacher, and forget about outdoing the master. No matter how much energy you devote to it, no matter how many pages you read, no matter how many facts you memorize, there is only, and there will only ever be, one true “know-it-all”. The antidote to “know-it-all”-ism of every variety is to always let that one be the only one in your life.

God is THE “know-it-all”. There have been some pretty smart people throughout history. Yasumasa Kanada is one of them. He and a team of people used a supercomputer to calculate pi to one trillion, two-hundred forty one billion, one hundred million places. That’s impressive, but God knows the one trillion, two-hundred forty one billion, one hundred million and first digit and He can calculate it in his head! Ken Jennings holds the record for consecutive wins on the game show “Jeopardy!” with 74. The question he lost on was “Most of this firm’s 70,000 seasonal white-collar employees work only four months a year.” Jennings thought it was Federal Express. God knew that it was really H&R Block. You may know that Barry Bonds holds the record for the most home runs in a single season with seventy-three. Did you know that God knows who will break that record, when it will happen, and what kind of bat the player will use. A.J. Jacobs read the entire Encyclopaedia Brittanica. God was there when everything written in the book actually happened.

I am prone to “know-it-all”-ism, too. I know what my wife Kathleen’s birthday is, what her favorite color is, and what her favorite food is. Jesus reminds me that all of that is just fine, but God knows all of it as well, and he also knows the exact number of hairs on her head!

Jesus invites us to make God the ONLY “know-it-all” in our lives, but he knows that because we are human, it won’t always be easy for us to do that. It will take a great deal of trust. To help, Jesus invites us to let him worry about knowing it all, and tells us to “have no fear”. It will take a lot of patience, and Jesus invites us to “follow behind” him, let him lead, and go at his pace. It will take faith to let go of our “know-it-all”-ism, and Jesus reminds us that if God knows everything, down to what happens every moment in a sparrow’s life, then God knows what we’re going through every moment as well. If you and I are interested in following Jesus, then one of the first things we’ll have to do is forget ourselves and let God be the one and only “know-it-all” in our life.

If we are going to let someone do this, it might as well be God. One thing that God knows with certainty is that when our life gets rough, when people criticize and insult us, when things happen that fill us with fear, that He will stick with us. God knows without a shred of doubt that even when things get really bad, when our life is overcome by shadows, whenever we find ourselves wandering through dark valleys, and when the future looks uncertain or even bleak, that even at those moments God knows that He will give His own life before He lets anything destroy ours.

It’s always enough that you and I are like Jesus: compassionate, forgiving, and faithful. It will never be enough if we try to become him, outdo him, or out-wit him. It will forever be sufficient that you and I resemble Jesus: obedient, focused on God, and diligent. It will never be enough if we try to out-work him. No matter what we say or do, there will, always and forever, be only one true “know-it-all.” He’s the God who told Isaiah: “when you were in your mother’s womb, I named you." He is the God who was there before the world existed and who will be there when it comes to an end. He is the God who knows what makes you happy, fearful, sad, and hopeful. He is the only one who knows it all, and when we let God be God, soon we’ll learn that life is a lot easier when we don’t have to know it all because God does, and that is always enough!

“The only grace you can have is the grace you can imagine.” –Benjamin Zander, The Art of Possibility

In his book, The Art of Possibilty, Benjamin Zander re-tells “The Monk’s Story.”

A monastery has fallen on hard times. It was once part of a great order which, as a result of religious persecution in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, lost all its branches. It was decimated to the extent that there were only five monks left in the mother house: the Abbot and four others, all of whom were over seventy. Clearly it was a dying order.

Deep in the woods surrounding the monastery was a little hut that the Rabbi from a nearby town occasionally used for a hermitage. One day, it occurred to the Abbot to visit the hermitage to see if the Rabbi could offer any advice that might save the monastery. The Rabbi welcomed the Abbot and commiserated. “I know how it is,” he said, “the spirit has gone out of people. Almost no one comes to the synagogue anymore.” So the old Rabbi and the old Abbot wept together, and they read parts of the Torah and spoke quietly of deep things.

The time came when the Abbot had to leave. They embraced. “It has been wonderful being with you,” said the Abbot, “but I have failed in my purpose for coming. Have you no piece of advice that might save the monastery?” “No, I am sorry,” the Rabbi responded, “I have no advice to give. The only thing I can tell you is that the Messiah is one of you.”

When the other monks heard the Rabbi’s words, they wondered what possible significance they might have. “The Messiah is one of us? One of us, here, at the monastery? Do you suppose he meant the Abbot? Of course—it must be the Abbot, who has been our leader for so long. On the other hand, he might have meant Brother Thomas, who is certainly a holy man. Or could he have meant Brother Elrod, who is so crotchety? But then Elrod is very wise. Surely, he could not have meant Brother Phillip—he’s too passive. But then, magically, he’s always there when you need him. Of course he didn’t mean me—yet supposing he did? Oh Lord, not me! I couldn’t mean that much to you, could I?”

As they contemplated in this manner, the old monks began to treat each other with extraordinary respect, on the off chance that one of them might be the Messiah. And on the off off chance that each monk himself might be the Messiah, they began to treat themselves with extraordinary respect.

Because the forest in which it was situated was beautiful, people occasionally came to visit the monastery, to picnic or to wander along the old paths, most of which led to the dilapidated chapel. They sensed the aura of extraordinary respect that surrounded the five old monks, permeating the atmosphere. They began to come more frequently, bringing their friends, and their friends brought friends. Some of the younger men who came to visit began to engage in conversation with the monks. After a while, one asked if he might join. Then another, and another. Within a few years, the monastery became once again a thriving order, and—thanks to the Rabbi’s gift—a vibrant, authentic community of light and love for the whole realm.

“One of you is the messiah…”

In Matthew 9:35-10:8, Jesus invites his disciples to start doing what he’s been doing. He’s been telling people about God’s powerful love, now it’s their turn to go out and do it, too. He’s been curing sick people, now it’s they will give it a try. He’s been raising the dead to new life, now it’s their turn to visit the people whom death has touched. He’s been cleansing lepers and he’s been casting out demons, now they will cleanse and cast out, too.

I wonder what was going through their minds as he sent them out into the world for this? I wonder what we might think if he asked us to do the same things?

In the end, I think this is less a lesson about the number of sick people you cure, dead people you raise, lepers you cleanse, or demons you cast out, and more a lesson about what happens when you venture out into uncertain and even dangerous territory for God. I think this is a lesson about what happens to twelve people who have already abandoned their former lives as fishermen, tax collectors, and whatever else they may have been before, and now are asked to abandon the values of the world and begin to live God’s values. I think it’s a lesson about what happens to these twelve people and what happens to the sick, the people who mourn the death of loved ones, the lepers, and the afflicted people they meet when they go out because of Jesus’ command.

I think this story is about what happens to us when we believe that God is with us.
When you believe that God is with you, you may have the courage to go out and try to do the impossible. When you believe that God is with you, you may find that you’ve lost your fear of the unknown. When you believe that God is with you, you just might make a difference in someone else’s life.

Jesus did it all first. In chapters 8 and 9 of Matthew’s gospel alone, he does it all: tells people about God’s love, cures the sick, raises the dead, cleanses the lepers, and casts out the demons. He does it, because he is the Messiah. He is the compassionate Son of God who was sent to change the world. He does it also, I think, because he can’t help but believe. In fact, he knows every moment of every day that God is with him. It gives him courage in the face of fearful things, it gives him confidence in the face of criticism, and it gives him the perseverance to keep going, living and telling the world that God is here.

Even when it looks to all who stand and watch, as if he were wrong about it all. Even when the cross blocks sight of anything that would ever seem to come from God. Even when death silences his voice, Jesus is reminding us that God is with him. We are saved, in the end, because Jesus kept going. No matter how much suffering he saw, no matter how much suffering he experienced, he kept going on believing every moment that God is with us.

The dying monastery, in the end, was saved because they reclaimed a sense of awe at the presence of God among them. When they thought each day that God could be just an arm’s length away: across the dinner table, sitting next to you during a prayer, working alongside you out in the garden, then they began to look at their world, and the people around them very differently.

How would your life change this week if you believed that God was with you? In the car next to you on the highway as you drove to work? Across the table from you as you sat down to breakfast? Sitting at the desk just in front of you in the classroom? Would your thoughts about life change? Would your actions in life change? Would the things that make you impatient and angry seem as important to you as they do right now? Would the things that bring you joy somehow seem even better?

Imagine the sick person, who the world had abandoned for fear of contagiousness, when Bartholomew and Philip arrived, took her hand, looked into her eyes and prayed for their health. Imagine the leper who no one dared to touch because his condition was interpreted as a punishment from God. What did he think when James and John knelt down with him in the street and bathed his sores? Imagine the family who mourned the loss of a child when Thomas and Matthew came by to sit and talk about the child’s life and remind her parents that God loved their daughter. Imagine the person whose life is in total chaos, who struggles with even the simplest tasks, and because of this he has lost every friend, and his family won’t even return his calls. Imagine what might happen when Peter knocks on the door and says: “God sent me, how can I help you?”

Who are the nearby people in your life that God would have you call, whose door God would have you knock on, whose wounds God would have you attend to? If you believed that God was with you every step of the way would you go, would you call, would you knock, would you reach out? And if you did, how might your life, and theirs, change?

As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth; and he said to him, "Follow me." And he got up and followed him. And as he sat at dinner in the house, many tax collectors and sinners came and were sitting with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, "Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?" But when he heard this, he said, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice.' For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners." -Matthew 9:9-13

Which crowd do you run with most of the time? It’s no secret that people tend to share the same values as the people they associate with. As human beings, we will tend to reflect, and even adopt, the beliefs, behaviors, and styles of the people that we spend most of our time with.
Think about this for a moment. How true has it been in your life? Think back to when you were a child. Did you ever befriend someone who was popular hoping that it would make you popular, too? Did you ever play a sport? When you were on the junior varsity team, did you hang around the kids who had made varsity hoping to pick up some of their skills and abilities? At your job, have you ever felt pressure to shift your values or beliefs in order to get the job done?

Think now about the people over the course of your life with whom you chose not to associate. Which social circles did you avoid? When you were a teenager was there a “crowd” that your parents warned you about. Did your mom or dad ever wonder about someone being a “bad influence” on you? Were there people over the years who seemed so different from you that you weren’t sure how to relate to them? What did you do when you encountered them? Did you start a conversation to learn more about one another? Did you avoid them altogether?

Sometimes, when we experience people who are different from ourselves, we retreat. We return to the circles of people where we feel most comfortable, and oftentimes we stay there. As a result, these people begin to shape who we are, who we become, and who the world understands us to be.

If you understand this, then you can understand the position that the Pharisees find themselves in. They wander past a crowd of people who have bad reputations. There are tax collectors who take money from people and are dishonest in what they do. Along with them are sinners of every variety. When the Pharisees wander by, this crowd is doing what they do best: causing a scene. They’re eating and drinking, and partying. They’re using all kinds of foul language, and whooping it up. To borrow a word from St. Paul that I’ve grown fond of in recent weeks: they’re doing quite a bit of “carousing”.

It’s hard not to notice, in the middle of this scene, who’s sitting with them, joining in the festivities. Jesus and his disciples are there at the party and this really bothers the Pharisees. You can guess what they might be thinking:

“The nerve of this guy? How can he talk to us about God and the Bible and goodness and truth, and faith? Who does he think he is? How can he claim to be sent from God if this is where he’s spending his time? Look at him sitting there with tax collectors, and prostitutes, and homeless beggars, and criminals!”

You can hear the conclusion they draw even before they say it:

“If he enjoys hanging around in that crowd, then he must be one of them, too!"

It bothers them. By eating with these people, Jesus is sending a clear message that he doesn’t see things the way the Pharisees do. It might bother us, too. In many ways Jesus’ life, and the way he lives it, are a signal that he doesn’t see the world the way we do, either.

Amazingly, Jesus doesn’t seem too worried about the reputations of the people at the party that night rubbing off on him. He doesn’t avoid the criminals, the homeless, the prostitutes, the sick, or the tax collectors. In fact, he goes out of his way not to avoid them. Jesus isn’t worried about what the neighbors will think of him, or what people might say about him.

Jesus, when it comes down to it, meets the people of the world with acceptance. He’s constantly loving the people the world says are unlovable and accepting the people who the world might say are the most unacceptable. He makes it clear that he hasn’t come to call the ones who have made the team, or the ones on the honor roll, or the members of the “in” crowd. Instead, he’s come to call the sinners. In the process, he doesn’t seem overly concerned with figuring out whether they’re worth it, or not.

Jesus is all about inviting everyone: sinners, outcasts, the forgotten, the ones the world has written off completely. He offers each of them his time, his love, and his acceptance before he takes the time to figure out who their friends are, what their GPA might be, or how much money they make. When Jesus stops at Matthew’s tax booth and says “Follow me” he’s reminding us all that there is more than enough room in the “Jesus” crowd for everyone. The high-achiever and the perpetual failure, the captain of the team and the water-boy, the prom queen and the girl who’s never been asked out can all find a place at the table Jesus has set. There’s also a place there for you, and for me.

Which crowd have you been spending most of your time with lately? The crowd that gathers to enjoy this life that God has blessed, no matter how imperfect it is most of the time? Or the crowd that stands on the outside and complains about how anyone could celebrate in a world like ours? Which crowd have you been hanging out with these days? The crowd that loves to spend most of their time pointing out what’s wrong with the rest of the world , or the crowd that’s been trying to reach out to the world? Which flock do you find yourself in?

Jesus embraced people for who they were, then he invited them into the life God gave him to share. “I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.” He tells the Pharisees. In Jesus, no matter who you are or which crowd you spend most of your time with, Jesus offers you his mercy. Most of the time, it’s all he wants to do. He is so set on this that in the end, when a sacrifice is made, it is his sacrifice. His life in place of the tax collector, the prostitute, the perpetual failure, the criminal…and you. With his death he sacrifices it all so that you and I won’t have to. With the new life God gives him, he lives on to continue to invite us all into relationship with him at a table of forgiveness where all are welcome.

"It could be worse"

“Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you--you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, 'What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will we wear?” -Matthew 6:26-31

It always amazes me, when I read stories about Jesus, at how well he knows us. In these words from Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus speaks to his closest friends. With them, he draws a picture of natural beauty to illustrate a point. Birds don’t worry about where their next meal will come from. Flowers don’t fret over what they look like to the outside world. Both of these things: the birds and the flowers, Jesus says, are content to let God handle it. The meals, the way they look, their entire life, he says, are completely in God’s hands. Take some time this week to watch them: the birds and the flowers. If you do, then you’ll see that they are just fine with this arrangement.

Peppered throughout his illustration, Jesus uses the word “worry.” “Worry” is a word that is completely human. If you’re human you worry, and Jesus knows it. He knows us well enough to know that we spend a lot of time in life worried about things. Deep down, we know he’s right, no matter how hard or how often we worry, it won’t change a thing. In the end, no matter how much worrying we do, it won’t add a single minute to our life.

Two weeks ago, I gathered with the family of one of the members of our church who had passed away last December. Stella’s family gathered for a memorial service to remember her and lay her to rest. Stella was a woman who was most at home in the natural world, in the outdoors, living close to the plants and the animals. Her life was lived on a farm. Over the many years of her very full life she became intimately connected to that farm. She loved the land, the plants, and the animals.

I used to look forward to visits with Stella, because I found if I was worried about something before I went to see her, after our visit it really didn’t seem to matter. Often, we would sit at the kitchen table and after I had asked how she was doing, she would tell me. She would talk about the intense pain in her knees. She would tell me how difficult it was to do simple things. She would speak about how frustrating life had become. When all she wanted to do was go out and weed the garden or plant something, or feed the many varieties of birds that lived just outside her door, the aches and pains, the physical limitations often prevented her. As she spoke, I could hear how passionate she was about the life outside, and how much she wanted to be able to do all those things she had done for so long. Then after she had finished listing off all the problems and all her frustrations, she would always look me right in the eye, and the sad look would vanish from her face and a smile would appear and she would say: “But…it could be worse…it could be worse.” I think she could have trademarked that saying. It was a favorite of hers that I heard each time I went to see her.

Jesus has a trademark on a concept of his own, and in all things it seems to be “Trust God.” When you wake up in the morning, when you go throughout your day, and when you lay down at night: “Trust God.” Stella knew this idea well, too. She knew that each and every day, no matter what the day would bring: whether it would be more aches and pains or some relief, whether it was bright sunshine or driving rain, whether it was good news or bad…she knew that through it all God was with her, and with us all. How well acquainted are you and I with trusting God for everything? If you’re like me, then you could use always use some help in this area.

Jesus told his closest friends about the importance of trusting God. He did it by using just a few loaves and a couple of bread and fish to feed thousands of people. He did it by reaching out to touch blind eyes and leprous hands. He did it by telling stories about birds and flowers, and the beauty of the world God made for us and for them. He did by being a friend to those who had no friends and a savior to those who had been told that God didn’t care about them. In the end, Jesus teaches us all about trusting God by literally throwing his life into God’s hands. On the cross, Jesus shows us what it really means to trust God completely. With the new life that God raises him up to, God shows us that it always pays off.

Each day, when we trust God, one thing that’s bound to happen is that we will recognize that our lives are rarely, if ever, perfect, but God’s love always is. Even when we feel like it couldn’t possibly get any worse, we’re reminded that with God at our side, we are never alone for anything that life throws our way. Stella was someone who knew this, and I suspect she taught it to those of us who were lucky to know her. She taught it with the way she lived her life. Today, after a lifetime of knowing that it could always be worse, now she lives completely in the perfect love of God. One day, we will too.

God isn't afraid of messes

I’m told that the word in Hebrew is “tohu wabohu” and that it means: “formlessness and normlessness.” If I could put it into my own words, I would call it a “mess”. Not just any mess, either, but the kind of mess that you really don’t know what to do with. The sort of mess that stops you in your tracks, and all you can do is stand there and stare at it. This is the kind of mess that you just don’t quite know how to begin picking up. “tohu wabohu” a chaotic, formless, ball of confusion. In the beginning, this is what God starts with. In Genesis 1:2 we read about it: “In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void…” God starts with a formless void, tohu wabohu.

The word in ancient Greek is distazo. It can mean: to wrestle with two thoughts at once. It’s what happens to us when the extent of our faith is only “maybe”. The word describes what it feels like to have a heart that’s overflowing with questions. In Matthew 28:17, it’s where Jesus leaves his disciples: “When they saw him they worshipped him and they doubted.” Jesus leaves them with doubts. He departs while their hearts are bursting with questions. He takes off when their faith is at just that “maybe” level.

Think back to the last time you had doubts. If you’re like me, then most likely, right now you’re thinking back a matter of minutes, or hours, or, if you’re lucky, days. Think back to the last time you can remember when you could honestly say that your life was completely free from chaos? Was there ever a time?

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Jesus leaves his disciples in this condition, on their knees worshipping him, while their hearts are still full of questions, while their minds are wrestling with all kinds of competing thoughts, while their faith, if we’re really being honest, is an absolute mess. You can almost hear them saying: “Let’s get this straight: you came down to earth, you died, then you came back from the dead, and now after all of that, you’re leaving again?!” What they’re experiencing is chaos. Chaotic faith at the rollercoaster ride Jesus has just taken them on. Chaotic questions about what happens next. He was the center of their universe, and now they’re wondering what they will do without him. We know the feeling when it happens. Often, we call it a mess.

It’s hard, most days to look at the world around us and not see a mess. I don’t need to list the places, you know them. If you turned on the tv this week or read a newspaper, you saw the chaos in our world. If you spoke to a co-worker who was wading through the struggles of life, then you heard it in their voice. If you went out of your house, walked down the street, passed by strangers looking for meaning, then you caught a glimpse of it. All of it points to a messy world that is rarely as orderly as we would like. Then, there are the messes in our own lives. The chaos we can’t seem to bring order to. Everywhere we look, we see that we still live in a chaotic world. And yet, we still worship…and, we still have our doubts. We’re just like the disciples.

If, when you look at your life, you feel that’s the case, then you ought to be thankful. If your life is messy, you are blessed. If you have chaotic places in your relationships, job, inner person, then rejoice! Rejoice because it seems as though God does his best work when things are messy. Think back to that formless void that was there in the beginning. What did God do with it? God reached down. God touched it. God took it in his hands and pulled the chaos apart and made things like: light, day and night, sky, land, plants, fruits, vegetables, all kinds of animals, and last but certainly not least, humans! Out of the chaos, out of the mess, God made you and I.

God takes that ball of messiness that is swirling around in all different directions, and this is what God makes out of it. And then, God gives every bit of it to you and I. Think about that for a minute. God creates order out of confusion, beauty out of formlessness, a world that makes sense out of something that had no sense to it at all, and then…God gives it to people like you and I. God gives the world to people whose lives often swirl with doubt. God trusts people whose lives are often messy with the sun, moon, and stars.

God doesn’t seem to mind working with messes. At the end of a ministry in which blind people saw, paralyzed people walked, hungry people were fed, and sinful people were forgiven, Jesus, God’s own Son, winds up in a real mess. The crowds are shouting for his life, the disciples are scattering in all different directions, the cross is being raised, the nails are being sharpened, and God is in Heaven, somehow ready to deal with all of it. Somehow, God is ready to reach down to touch the pain and the rejection, the sorrow and the shock, the death and the silence, and make something new out of all of it. Ready, once again to create new life out of a senseless, formless, messy void.

When it’s all done, after the death is conquered and the darkness is dispelled, and the Son of God rises to new life and appears to disciples who worship, even as they doubt. Then, once again God reminds us “I made all of this possible, and I’m giving it to you” Jesus stands on the mountainside and tells his worshipfully doubtful, his sanctified messy people to go into all the world with his blessing, with his forgiveness, and with his life. No matter how messy, no matter how chaotic, no matter how unsure you are, he says “Go and tell them about me. I’m the God who works miracles out of messes.”

The next time you feel overwhelmed, uncertain, full of doubt, or like your life is a complete mess, remember, God isn’t afraid of messes. In fact, God does some of his best work with the messiest stuff there is: tohu wabohu, distazo, and you and I!

When you know you can't fail...

What would you say, that you’ve never said before, if you knew you couldn’t fail

What would you do, that you’ve never done before, if you knew you couldn't fail?

What chance would you take if you knew, that no matter what, you could not fail?

I don’t know if he had the chance or the time to think about these questions, but on the first Pentecost (Acts 2:1-21) that's what Peter did. When the gust of wind blew through the house without warning. When he and his friends started speaking uncontrollably in ways they had never done before. When all of it drew a crowd and people in the crowd asked “What does this mean?” and others said “It doesn’t mean anything, they’re full of new wine.” In the middle of all of this chaos…Peter did something….he stood up. In the middle of all of this excitement…Peter said something. In the middle of the winde and the noise…Peter took a chance.

Why did he do it? Maybe he did what he did…said what he said…took the chance that he took…because long before that, someone built him up. Someone told him: “You are a rock” and then he said “I’m building all of this, and I'm beginning with you.” And then, that someone stayed with him through thick and thin. He answered his questions and calmed his fears. When the storms raged and the doubts arose, that person stuck around. Even when the time came for that faithful companion to leave, he didn’t depart before telling Peter: "Remember, I'm with you always, until the end of time.” Long before the wind blew and the flames blazed and the people gathered and asked questions or sneered at him…Peter was given the courage, the confidence, and the gift to do what he did that day: to stand up, to say something, to take a chance, all because Jesus took the time in his life to build him up.

Of course, you never know you won't fail. There is never a surefire guarantee. You and I never know with 100 percent certainty that when we stand up, when we speak, when we take a chance that what we do will work out the way we hope that it might.

So, what do you do when the wind blows? When you feel that spark of inspiration well up inside you and burst into a flame? What do you do when you have the urge to take a chance? To say something? To do something? Do you act on that urge? Do you see it through? Do you ever actually get up out of your seat? Do you ever actually open your mouth and speak?

Or, do you sit there and let it pass. Do you hope that someone else will do something or say something? When the wind blows and the fires ignite, are they followed immediately by a voice in the back of your mind that reminds you “That will never work!” or wonders “What would they say about you if you did that?” or “What would they think of you if you said that?” When you hear that voice, do you then let it get up quietly and close the door that the wind had blown open and pour water on the flames that had sprung up? So that, in the end, you don’t really do or say anything? You don’t really take the chance at all?

The chance that Peter took that first Pentecost made a difference. If you fast-forward to the end of the speech he had made, this is what happened next (Acts 2:37-42). After he stood up, after he spoke, after he took a chance, someone in the crowd said: “Now what do we do?” And Peter told them “Change your life. Turn to God and be baptized.” And do you know what? That person in the crowd did just that, and when he followed Peter down to the river that afternoon, some of the rest of the crowd followed him. Do you know how many? 3,000! 3,000 people began a closer relationship with God that day, because Peter took a chance! It was chance was that began when Jesus built him up, walked alongside him, and convinced him that he couldn’t fail.

What did Jesus say because he knew he couldn’t fail? He said things like: “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me…and drink.” He called to people with words like: “Come to me, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” He told people: “Your sins are forgiven.” He said all these things and more because he knew he couldn’t fail at these promises. He knew he could deliver on them.

What did Jesus do when he knew he couldn’t fail? He put his hands on blind eyes and opened them so that they could see. He invited the lame to walk, and they did! He called into the grave of a dead man and asked him to live again, and he did! He did all these things and more because he knew that when he touched those sightless eyes, those immobile legs, and even the darkness of death, that he could change all of it.

What chance did Jesus take because he knew he couldn’t fail? He took the chance to bet everything he had on us. He took the chance to pick up the cross and carry it for you. He took the chance to give his own life because he knew, that with God at his side, he could not fail.

Jesus did all of this and more, and he did it because he trusted God completely, and he knew that “with God all things are possible.”

There is no guarantee that anything that we say or do, or any chance that we take, will be successful. But there is one surefire way to make sure we will fail- don't say anything, don't do anything, don't ever take any chances. & you WILL fail. It’s guaranteed.

The next time the wind blows through your house, and the spark of inspiration ignites inside of you, before you do anything else, remember that Jesus' words were for you and this could be your Pentecost. This could be your chance to say something and make a difference in someone else’s life. This could be your chance to do something and change the world for the better. This could be your chance to take a chance because you know that with God on your side, you have nothing to be afraid of.

So, when the world looks at you sideways and says you're full of it, stand up, say something, do something, take a chance, because who knows? Maybe that's the moment the wind is blowing through your house and the fire is blazing in your heart, and God is standing right beside you, just waiting to see what you'll do with it!

this is the salt shaker

Jesus said: "Let me tell you why you are here. You're here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness?"
-Matthew 5:13 the Message

"Wherever your center lies, know it, name it, stick to it, and believe in it. Everyone who works with you will know what matters to you and will respect and appreciate your unwavering values. Your inner beliefs about business will guide you through tough times...But, when you cede your core values to someone else, it's time to quit." -Danny Meyer, "Setting the Table: The Transforming Power of Hospitality in Business" HarperCollins Publishers, 2006.