I read two blogs daily: One is Seth Godin, a marketing guru, at least a third of whose posts relate to ministry in some way. The other is Heather Holleman, a writing professor at Penn State, also on staff with CRU. Her posts could contain only a photo of something in nature or a recipe, but they often contain profound insights on a variety of subjects including writing tips, parenting, and discipleship.

Her blog on November 20 was a winner: Promoting Peace Rather Than Stirring Up Controversy. I encourage you to read it in its entirety. It’s something I’ve written on from time to time, that outrage seems to be our favorite sport right now. Here’s her opening paragraph:

Most of what I read online thrives on controversy, on mockery, and on riling others up into a froth. Young people today, I’m noticing, live in this world where the most offended wins, where the mocker wins, and where every conversation begins with the drama of the day. Controversy and quarrels gain followers and attention. Mockery and cynicism give a seat at the table on most social media platforms. But is it productive? Is it good? Does it change anyone’s mind?

She goes on to pull wisdom from Proverbs. Again, I encourage you to read her whole blog. She closes with:

I’ve won a thousand arguments as a national debater, orator, and generally logical person, but I’ve rarely changed someone’s mind through my sarcasm, mockery, or ability to create controversy. Winning arguments isn’t the same thing as persuading someone. I’d rather persuade than win.

Mockers stir up a city, but the wise turn away anger…Fools give full vent to their rage, but the wise bring calm in the end. (Proverbs 29.8, 11, NIV)

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Matthew 5.9, NIV)

My friend Josh Good, who is with the international youth ministry organization Christian Endeavor told me that at a large youth conference they will be displaying a banner that reads:

Less like hippos, more like honeybees

I give up! What does it mean, you say? Glad you asked. I did, too. Hippos consume; honeybees create. A hippo eats 100 pounds of vegetation every day, or, as Christian Endeavor likes to say, a hippo eats the weight of the average seventh-grader every day! On the other hand, honeybees create: they work hard; they work together; they create something useful.

Christian Endeavor believes (and I agree!) that we don’t need youth programs that simply make consumers out of the youth (in the same way many of their parents are consuming church programs). Hugh Halter, author and one of the leaders in the missional church movement, likes to say, “Disciples are not consumers, and consumers are not disciples.”

This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples. (John 15.8, NIV)

I’ve written about two Haitian pastors recently: Lucner, who confronted the Voodoo witch doctor in the power of Jesus (Let’s see what God will do), and Vilmer, who did some translation work for another friend of mine. When the subject of money came up, Vilmer said: My interest was not, is not and will never be money, but the Kingdom.

The reason I know these two men is that they were my students when I taught a 2-week discipleship course at Emmaus Biblical Seminary in Cap-Haitien. The founder of that school, Dr. Bill Cooper, has just passed away at age 90. This blog is about Bill.

I don’t remember all the details, but Bill told me that in his 60s when he retired from being a pastor, part of it was for health reasons. The doctors told him no travel, no strenuous activity, etc. AFTER that, he went on to build seminaries in six different countries. You can read the complete obituary here. Because of his health(?!), he was only half time in Haiti. One month in Haiti, one month in Fort Collins, Colorado, etc. Another way Bill invested in Haiti was by sponsoring Vilmer and Lucner (and a few others, I think) for advanced degrees in the U.S. Vilmer earned a doctorate from Nyack College and Seminary in New York because of Bill.

Lucner and Vilmer will be here for the memorial service on Friday, and I am helping host them. I hope to write more later. In the meantime, here is what Lucner posted on Facebook:

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. (2 Timothy 4.7, ESV)

They still bear fruit in old age. Psalm 92.14, ESV)

I love the story of Zacchaeus as recorded in Luke 19.1 – 10. Usually, I point out that Jesus had enough margin in his life to actually stop for Zacchaeus. I wouldn’t have if I had been on a mission to get to Jerusalem in time for Passover and what we now know as Passion Week. Also, Jesus violated cultural norms (and offended Pharisees) by talking with a hated tax collector.

But here’s another thought, courtesy my friend Hanh from Sedalia, Colorado. We were discussing that we can meet and hear from God anywhere, as I wrote a few days ago. Hanh said,

Consider that Zacchaeus was up in a tree, but Jesus asked him to come down. And where did the meeting take place? Zacchaeus’ house!

We often look for God in the spectacular, but God appears more often in the ordinary. 

And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today.” (Luke 19.5, ESV)

And he said [to Elijah], “Go out and stand on the mount before the LORD.” And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. And when Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. And behold, there came a voice to him and said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” (1 Kings 19.11 – 13, ESV, emphasis mine)

My neighbor helped me with a project we’ve been talking about for over a year. We rented a log splitter and split a number of logs from trees that had been cut down on both our properties. I wish I had a “before” picture of the unsplit logs. Below is a picture of the logs after we split them followed by a picture of the stacked logs.

There are some lessons, I think. The most obvious, of course, is: it’s nice to go from a mess to a non-mess. You can see on the left what the objective is, and there’s no doubt what you want the finished product to look like.

A desire accomplished is sweet to the soul… (Proverbs 13.19, NKJV)

But I’m trying for something deeper, and I don’t know if I’ve succeeded. I was thinking about the progression from the unsplit logs to the split logs to the stacked logs. It goes something like this:

• The unsplit logs were stacked but not usable.
• The split logs were usable but not stacked.
• Finally, the logs were usable and stacked.

What else is like that? I’m thinking that to the uninitiated, the seeker or new believer maybe, the scriptures could be like the stack of unsplit logs. Nice to look at but not usable.

One solution is to “split the logs:” divide the scripture up into accessible chunks. Children’s Sunday School is like that. We tell them the stories of Moses and the bulrushes, of Daniel in the lion’s den, of Jesus’ miracles, of Gideon and his 300, of Noah’s ark, Jesus’ resurrection, about Paul and Silas, Peter walking on water, etc. It’s like a scattered pile of split wood. There’s no connection to the larger story of the Bible, not even any historical order.

I believe for optimal discipleship training, the split logs should be stacked for easy accessibility in the right order. For example, I put my older, drier wood on top when I stacked the wood. When Wycliffe translates the Bible for jungle tribes, they start with the Gospel of Mark, the most accessible account of the life and work of Jesus. When we teach discipleship skills, we start with a simple system for time with God and encourage memorizing a few select verses. Appropriately accessible as I’ve written about before.

As I say, it’s a new word picture for me. What do you think?

For precept must be upon precept, precept upon precept, line upon line, line upon line, here a little, there a little. (Isaiah 28.10, NKJV)

As I wrote yesterday, I try to learn from things I see. Yogi Berra said, “You can observe a lot by just watching.”

What can we learn from the big fight at the end of the Browns-Steelers game Thursday night? In case you missed it (I only saw it on replay after the fact), Myles Garrett of the Cleveland Browns ripped the helmet off Pittsburgh Steeler quarterback Mason Rudolph and clubbed him in the head with it in the final seconds of Thursday night’s game. The weird thing was that Cleveland was winning at the time and won the game 21 – 7. 

Garrett took responsibility for what he did as quoted on the ESPN web site:

Last night, I made a terrible mistake,” Garrett said in a statement issued Friday. “I lost my cool and what I did was selfish and unacceptable. I know that we are all responsible for our actions, and I can only prove my true character through my actions moving forward. I want to apologize to Mason Rudolph, my teammates, our entire organization, our fans and to the NFL. I know I have to be accountable for what happened, learn from my mistake, and I fully intend to do so.

I’m glad he’s taking responsibility, but I question his use of the word “mistake.” As my friend Joel, who teaches at the Air Force Academy sometimes says to a misbehaving cadet, “A mistake is when you misdial a phone number, hitting, say, a three instead of a two. What you did was a bad choice.” 

And for some reason, players instigating such egregious actions often say it’s not their true character. But it is their true character! We have it on video. And in this case, it’s not the first time: Garrett punched a player back in game 1.

The iniquities of the wicked ensnare him, and he is held fast in the cords of his sin. He dies for lack of discipline, and because of his great folly he is led astray. (Proverbs 5.22, 23, ESV)

But there is always good news for Garrett and the rest of us!

All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah 53.6, ESV)

Here’s a quick application from my reading in Jeremiah the other day.

The word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: “Arise, and go down to the potter’s house, and there I will let you hear my words.” So I went down to the potter’s house, and there he was working at his wheel. And the vessel he was making of clay was spoiled in the potter’s hand, and he reworked it into another vessel, as it seemed good to the potter to do. (Jeremiah 18.1 – 4, ESV)

The most obvious observation is that I can hear from God anywhere! I don’t have to be “in church” or even “having my prayer time,” as important as both of those things are. 

The second observation is that I should be observant, looking for lessons, looking for God’s truth wherever it is. (I have one in mind to share, maybe tomorrow.)

I passed by the field of a sluggard, by the vineyard of a man lacking sense, and behold, it was all overgrown with thorns, the ground was covered with nettles, and its stone wall was broken down. Then I saw and considered it; I looked and received instruction. A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest, and poverty will come upon you like a robber, and want like an armed man. (Proverbs 24.30 – 34, ESV)

We were at the YMCA of the Rockies this week for a (working) getaway, and I saw for the first time a little trail behind one of the chapels marked out with the familiar ACTS prayer acrostic: Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, Supplication. As I wrote yesterday, I’ve been meditating on our status as forgiven sinners. Here’s the trail sign with its exercise for Confession and forgiveness.

So I knelt in front of the sandbox, wrote some sins into the sand, confessed them to God, then erased them. Very profound if you think about it. There’s no technology that will restore writing in the sand that has been erased! 

My scripture reading for today was John 8.1 – 11, Jesus’ encounter with the woman taken in adultery. The obvious takeaway is “Neither do I condemn you; go and sin no more.” But here’s another. Much speculation has centered around what Jesus was writing in the sand. I’ve heard more than one preacher suggest that Jesus was writing the sins of the accusers, and that’s why they felt guilty and left. 

But the good news is, that if Jesus had written their sins in the sand, he was communicating, “You can be forgiven, too! It’s just sand.” Paul confessed in 1 Timothy 1.15, he was one of those kinds of guys! A judgmental Pharisee. And Jesus forgave his sins. And mine. And yours. 

In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace… (Ephesians 1.7, ESV)

Here’s something I’m still working on understanding and taking to heart…

I can testify that the Word is true and deserves to be received by all, for Jesus Christ came into the world to bring sinners back to life—even me, the worst sinner of all! (1 Timothy 1.15, Passion Translation)

Jesus died for sinners, even me! I read a long time ago that someone, thinking about this passage, wrote, “Paul said, ‘I am the chief of sinners.’ To which God replied, ‘O hush. You’re no such thing!’”

But it doesn’t matter whether I win the prize for being the greatest sinner or not. Jesus died for sinners. Last Sunday, our pastor quoted Tim Keller, pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian in New York City:

The gospel is this: We are more sinful and flawed in ourselves than we ever dared believe, yet at the very same time we are more loved and accepted in Jesus Christ than we ever dared hope.

That’s powerful.

One of my favorite hymns is “It is well with my soul.” Stanza 3 goes:

God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5.8, ESV) 

It’s no secret that when we pray the Lord’s Prayer (the Our Father), there’s one point of uncertainty: do we say “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us,” or do we say, “forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors?” Presbyterians are among those who use “debts,” and most others seem to use “trespasses.”

In fact, “debts” is correct according to the source of the Lord’s Prayer, Matthew 6.9 – 13. Look it up in almost any translation. The word translated “trespasses” is opheilema:

ὀφείλημα opheilēma; from (the alternate of) 3784; something owed, i.e. (figuratively) a due; morally, a fault: — debt.

It was William Tyndale who used the word “trespasses” in 1526. The very influential Anglican Book of Common Prayer used Tyndale’s “trespasses” when it was published in 1549, and it has stuck. Here’s an excellent article explaining the nuances.

But that’s not the point of this blog…

A few days ago I was at a memorial service, conducted by Presbyterian ministers in a Presbyterian church. At the end, one of the ministers said something like this. 

In a few minutes, we’re going to pray the Lord’s Prayer together. I’m aware that this is a mixed crowd. Not all of us are Presbyterians here; in fact, probably most of us are not Presbyterians. We say “debts,” but most traditions say “trespasses.” So let’s keep it simple, and we’ll say “trespasses.”

My first thought was, “Why? We’re Presbyterians for goodness sake, and “debts” is right!” But then I realized, “Saying ‘trespasses’ may not have been right, but it was certainly considerate.” 

Knowledge puffs up while love builds up. (1 Corinthians 8.1, NIV)

Each of us should please our neighbors for their good, to build them up… Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God. (Romans 15.2, 7, NIV)