Good News!

(Once in a while I like to post things from others people's blogs because I think it will help you. This one comes from Lewis and Lue Gregory. I receive their weekly e-letter in my email on Monday, and you can too. Go to http://www.sourceministries.net/go/ and get all you can.)

THE WORD IS: Know you not, that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ were baptized into His death? Romans 6:3

THE POINT IS: “What you don’t know won’t hurt you.” Or so it’s been said. However, if you’re not aware of certain things, you will miss out on the benefits. And that can be very costly, perhaps painfully so. This is especially true for Christians. Many Christians don’t fully know what happened to them upon receiving Christ. Since they don’t know what happened to them, they don’t know what’s available to them. So, what’s there to know? The first thing Paul said we need to know is that when we received Christ, the Holy Spirit baptized us into Christ. The kind of baptism referred to here is a spiritual baptism. This is a work of the Holy Spirit which He accomplished when He immersed us into Christ. We were placed into His life. Thus Christ became our life!

THE APPLICATION IS: But before you can enter into His life, it is necessary to be baptized into His death. Therefore, the first and most basic thing Christ did for you was to die in your place. He accomplished this by becoming one with you on the cross. The miracle of Christ’s death is the effect it had upon you. What effect was that? You died! For you, it’s good Friday all over again. What’s so good about it? Although death is normally a sad time, this is the one exception. Why? The old person you were in Adam died with Christ. That person no longer exists. Your former self is dead and gone. That’s not you anymore. Your new self is bound up in Christ, which makes your new self a good self. You’re now the best that you can be because of your union with Christ. Christ has become your very life. Therefore, everything you are and have comes from Him. The good news is that your old life has ended and a new life has begun!

So now you know!

Quote of the Day

As I have noted in the right column, I am currently reading "So You Don't Want To Go To Church Anymore," by Coleman and Jacobsen. I am enjoying it very much.

I will regularly post some quotes so you can get a feel for what the authors are saying.

John, a mysterious yet godly man in the book, is speaking to the main figure in the story, Jake. "Your struggle stems from the call of God's Spirit to your own. Ask him to forgive you for substituting anything for the power of his love and invite him to show you how your diligent efforts at good works for him may be obscuring His love for you. Let God do the rest. He will draw you to himself."

How's that sound to you?

Just Some Good (Maybe) Weekend Humor

These got some chuckles outta me, so I thought I'd throw them up for the weekend. Have a good one!

* Hey there, Larry King: Looks like Paris Hilton is single again, too. Just sayin’.

* President Obama has outlined his plans for deep space. First, we get the aliens some health care, then. . .

Ways To Tell You’ve Chosen A Bad College:
* Registration is held in an R.V.
* The school crest features a motto written in Pig Latin.
* Professors end lectures with “…or so I’ve heard.”
* The dean looks a lot like the woman who serves salad in the cafeteria.
* The campus bookstore buys back used coloring books.

Rodney Dangerfield-isms:
* My psychiatrist told me I was crazy and I said I want a second opinion. He said okay, you're ugly too.
* It's tough to stay married. My wife kisses the dog on the lips, yet she won't drink from my glass.
* When I was a kid my parents moved a lot, but I always found them.
* When I was born I was so ugly the doctor slapped my mother.
* I was so ugly my mother used to feed me with a sling shot.
* A girl phoned me the other day and said... Come on over, there's nobody home. I went over. Nobody was home.
* I could tell my parents hated me. My bath toys were a toaster and a radio.
* I get no respect. The way my luck is running, if I was a politician I would be honest.
* I remember the time I was kidnapped and they sent a piece of my finger to my father. He said he wanted more proof.
* I drink too much. The last time I gave a urine sample it had an olive in it.

More Fun

This is fun.

Not long ago I asked my three girls (my wife and two daughters) a ‘what if?’ question: “If you could pick one person or group to see in concert, who would it be?” I went to quite a lot of concerts way-back-when (especially the 70’s and 80’s), yet very few in the last bunch of years. But I’ve had it in my head that it was time to ramp all that up again, and to include my girls. Cool.

My youngest answered, “Taylor Swift—no doubt, dad.” My eldest said, “the Eagles—there’s nobody else, actually.” And my chief girlfriend said, “Oh, I don’t know. A symphony, sure, but, um, maybe James Taylor. . .and Carole King.” Naturally, they wanted to know why I was asking, and I said, “I don’t know. Just curious.” And that was true.

But then I went hunting.

To my shock, I discovered that Taylor Swift was playing at the Pepsi Center (in Denver) in early April, the Eagles in May, and, lo and behold, James Taylor AND Carole King were together in July. I was thrilled. But since I haven’t done much of anything like this in a long, long time, I was nervous. Why? I’m not sure. But when I asked my Father for a red, green or yellow light, He gave me a brilliant green. “Go for it, son,” is what I heard in my head. So I did. I found that tickets cost just slightly more than they did in the 1970’s. Right?

I surprised them (maybe shocked them) with the news, and a week ago last Wednesday, prepared to go to Taylor Swift’s shebang. God, who often seems to interrupt my thoughts(!), said, “I want you to have more fun. . .with me.” Immediately I knew it was Him. Sometimes when God bursts upon the scene in my head, His voice or thoughts come with incredible clarity and weight—like everything I’ve been wondering is suddenly answered and secured. I like that. As I wiped tears from my face, I said, “Okay, Father. Then could something incredible happen at tonight’s concert? Could Emma get to, I don’t know, sit at Taylor Swift’s feet, get so close that she could see her sweat, touch her hand, see if she has zits—that close? I would love for something beyond normal to happen for Emma and me.”

And off we went.

We arrived really early and poked about the arena, locating our seats and finally settling on pizza for dinner. Emma noticed a message on one of the giant video screens that invited fans (some 17,000 of us) to text a message to Taylor who would pick a few “winners” to be awarded pit passes. We figured that had to be good, so we began launching our messages. Mine was, “I’m here on a daddy/daughter date with my youngest, and it’s her very first concert.” Hundreds and hundreds of text messages began appearing and scrolling on the big screens: “I sing your songs all day long—and I’m a guy!” “I’m your best fan!” “My mom and I drove 13 hours to see you!” “I’m 7 years old, and you’re my hero!” Everybody wanted a pit pass.

Just after the first of three performances began, my cell phone vibrated with a message: Congratulations. You’ve won 2 passes . . . Without breathing(!), I showed my phone to Emma, who, after a couple of seconds, screamed a happiest-girl-in-the-entire-world scream. I did, too. Well, mine had a distinct air of masculinity to it, as you would expect. Yeah, we went nuts.

Security ushered us to the front, where we remained for the rest of the night. We were 3-4 feet from the singers and dancers and musicians—and 3-4 feet from Taylor Swift. She even said “Hi!” to Emma, who turned to me and said, “Did you see that?! She was talking to me!” We laughed and yelled and danced and thanked God 4,368 times. . .and I lost track of how many times thankfulness welled-up in my eyes.

That was one of the best nights of my life—mine and Emma’s.

I share this with you for two reasons: 1) You’re part of my life, and I want to live openly and honestly with you—it’s important to me. It hasn’t been instantly easy for me to have more fun with God, but I think I’m accepting His words to me by pausing to think of things I’d like to do with Him. Although it’s early in the have-fun-with-God game, I’ve noticed an odd belief that I should be working slavishly because, well, because. And I don’t like it. I want to grow in the delight of my Father, and I believe that means fun. 2) I wonder if you might want to ask God about your fun factor with Him, as well. Do you get caught in the demanding web of this world? Has fear built a house in your head from which to launch fearful and slavish thoughts? Have your days been a lot about doing only things that are productive, smart investments of your time, and logical moves that secure your future? Then I wonder if you’re happy with God. I don’t mean that to be at all condemning; I simply want to alert you in case you need a good alert.

Certainly, not everything with God is fun—duh. But there’s a lot that is. How about it?

7 Miles - Are You Kidding Me?!

Here's a pretty cool sermonette from Matt Chandler. It's short and very sweet. Have a look.

No Change

No matter what happens today or tomorrow, no matter what happens with my country, I was chosen before the creation of the world, I was included in Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection, and I have one way to live—by the Spirit and Christ in me. Nothing changes that.

New Prayer Tips

It's the weekend--time for some fun!

Do you ever get tired of trying to pray nice, Christianly things for those who have hurt or offended you? No? Well, I do. And while I don't recommend the following as your new format, it's sure funny.

He Did It!

This is our traditional day when we celebrate Jesus' taking all of our sins upon Himself on the cross—every single sin!—and of taking the punishment, as though He committed every single sin.  He made the wrong doings of everyone in the world—past, present and future—His wrong doings, and did away with them by sacrificing Himself.

He did it.

Let’s not undervalue what Jesus did by thinking there are sins for which we must still pay.  There aren’t!  There is now no sacrifice left for sin, none needed, because Jesus owned them all for us.

He did it.

On Sunday, we’ll celebrate His resurrection which completes the perfection—the righteous-making, new nature giving to sons and daughters of God—of all those who receive Him.  His act made us like He is—holy and blameless, reconciled perfectly and united with God.

And He did it in three days.

Hooray for God!  And hooray for us.

Everyone has to die once, then face the consequences. Christ's death was also a one-time event, but it was a sacrifice that took care of sins forever. And so, when he next appears, the outcome for those eager to greet him is, precisely, salvation.  (Hebrews 9:27-28 The Message)

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. (John 3:17)

New Driving Rules

In Or Out?

(Have a great weekend!)

An exasperated mother, whose son was always getting into mischief, finally asked him, "How do you expect to get into heaven?"

The boy thought it over and said, "Well, I'll just run in and out and in and out and keep slamming the door until St. Peter says, 'For heaven's sake, Jimmy, come in or stay out!'"

Signs For Your Future

(It's the weekend, which means it's time for a little fun around here.)

During a visit to the retirement home, John asked the director, "How do you determine whether or not a person should be institutionalized?"

"Well," said the Director, "We fill up a bathtub, and then we offer a teaspoon, a teacup and a bucket to the patient and ask him or her to empty the bathtub."

"Oh, I understand," John said. "A normal person would use the bucket because it's bigger than the spoon or the teacup."

"No," said the Director. "A normal person would pull the plug. Do you want a bed near the window?"

Waking A Knucklehead

It was a knucklehead moment. I have a lot of those.

During a sleepless hour last night it dawned on me that I was working really hard at getting life right – praying enough, walking in the Spirit enough, supporting people enough, making enough money—you know, ENOUGH. After all, once you know what to do (and that should certainly be me by now), shouldn’t you simply do it? Isn’t how you do the ultimate estimate?

No, it isn’t. How Jesus did when He lived as a man is the ultimate measure of me. Think about it.

I forget that the ongoing measurement of my life, the way I am seen, the way I am estimated and the way I am judged is not singularly dependent upon me—Jesus became all of that for me. Everyday and all day I am living with His righteousness, His holiness, and His redemption. All that He accomplished has been given to me as my own.

“It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: ‘Let him who boasts boast in the Lord.’” (1 Cor 1:30-31)

Let the bragging on God begin because that’s overwhelming. But shouldn’t it be? Yes! The gospel is crazy-good. Believing that it’s true is as much the life of faith as believing that He died for my sins is. And on most days it’s much more energizing. Believing that He died for my sins and was raised to life does something once and for all: it utterly removes my sins, secures my place with God, and makes a new, raised-with-Christ me. Tah-dah! All new, once and for all. But believing that He has given me His righteousness and holiness and redemption invigorates the new me, and propels me into the day—everyday. Now that I’m new, this is how to live new. Believing equals receiving—something great happens to me.

What bothered me in the night was the accumulated stress of not counting on Jesus’ righteousness and holiness and redemption to do anything for me, other than secure my standing and destination. What a knucklehead! When I remember what He did and gave me, my faith rises and my strength increases. All that ugly judgment I sometimes endure from the evil one and from my flesh vanishes. Hooray! I can live again. And I’m reminded that faith isn’t just a bunch of important stuff I believe, but a way by which life and strength and the Holy Spirit work in me, a son of God.

That’s my day and that’s my night. Jesus for me and Jesus in me – my hope of great things.

“. . . God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.” (Colossians 1:27)

Blow Darts

Because I am immersed in writing my book (to be published by Harvest House next January, 2011), I have not been posting much around here lately.  I hope to remedy that this coming week.

Until then, here's a weekend funny that I hope you enjoy.

- Ralph

Barbados Update

I'm on my way to a meeting, so must be brief.

Sunday's service was truly a wonder. I spoke about God's reconciliation of us, and of our service of reconciliation for each other. I did so little, but stand back and watch God give us wonder and love and awe. God opened our eyes to who we are now--right now--because of Him, and we were dazzled.  What a great bunch are these Bajan believers.

Since then I have been meeting with small groups of men and women who want more than anything to know God.  A team of people from Grace Life Church in Woodstock, Georgia (where I will be speaking this Sunday, March 7), have been here for six months, shepherding them toward their desire.  And they're brilliant.  All I really do is join them.  Everyone here makes sharing my own story of discovering God easy to give.  What a community.

I had a bit of "time off" yesterday, and so went snorkeling in Carlisle Bay.  There I met a scorpion fish, which skewered my hand.  PAIN.  Today my left hand is painful and puffy, to say the least.  Any treatment suggestions?  (Amputation is not acceptable.)

Tonight is a guy's night out, and I'm really looking forward to that.  Tomorrow, Saturday, I leave the island and head to Atlanta for a week.

God speed!

 

  

  

 

A Bloom In Barbados

My goodness. These people are dazzling. As is often the case, they don’t know it.

And that’s often where the pain is.

I’m not kidding—these Bajan (pronounced “Bay-jen”) Christians openly love God. In some ways, they’re like high school aged kids in love; they grin and laugh and tear-up at the mention of their Pursuer’s grace and affection for them. When we talk about Jesus around them, it’s like we’ve taken a peek at their journaled love affair—they get all happy and dreamy and maybe a little embarrassed.

But the Conspirator of this world (the Evil One) has long been sending them the message that they’re disqualified from anything of real value. Yes, God has made His love plain to them and they’re clearly enamored enough to be willing to do anything with Him. For a little while. But past experiences or educational fumblings or unresolved difficulties and tensions add up to scandalous headlines in their own minds that render them bystanders in God’s plan for glory. And pretty soon they begin to believe that someone else, someone who really has it all together, with education and upbringing and neat and tidy relationships should take the lead or help build the church. “We need an expert,” they might think, “and that sure isn’t any of us. I wonder when God will send to us the super Christians we need. Let’s begin praying for them now. Once they get here, then we can really get going. . .”

Have you ever heard something like that? That’s the kind of stuff the accuser of the church throws at these Bajan believers.

But God.

Somehow the mixture of love and sloppiness and belief and failure and hope and doubt has produced a church that is the envy of many—at least it should be. We should be studying them! They are at times so fragile that I think they can’t stand it—“I want to be strong!”—but we marvel at how God keeps them convinced that they’re right on course, right in the center of His will. They’re absolutely convinced that they need Him, and—shock—they openly act like it. How fantastic is that?

Anyway, this fragile and delicate bloom in Barbados has me fascinated and in a little bit of awe.

They’re beautiful.