Category Archives: Christian World View

The attic, like any other, smelled musty.

And like any other attic, there was stuff piled everywhere – dusty, musty junk. Anyone who‘s ever been up there knows the smell and the sight.  You look around and you don’t know where to begin. It is an experience of overwhelming fascination. Or perhaps just overwhelming.

For Karl Kissner, the journey to his late grandfather’s home in Defiance, Ohio was both sentimental and necessary. The old house was bulging with a hundred years of accumulated clutter.

As Karl stood in the old attic, surveying the task before him, he spied a small cardboard box in a corner. Opening it, he was startled. The box was filled with old baseball cards, all of them in pristine condition. Staring up at Karl were the virile, robust images of long-departed legends.

There was Ty Cobb, “the Georgia Peach”, who spent twenty-two amazing seasons with the Detroit Tigers. There was Cy Young, the gifted pitcher who played for five teams during his career, compiling a record 511 wins. And Karl found a Honus Wagner card too. Known as “The Flying Dutchman” for his incredible speed, Wagner is considered by most baseball historians as the greatest shortstop who ever took the diamond.  These men were among the first players to be inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in the 1930s.

Karl Kissner counted seven hundred perfectly preserved baseball cards that day in his grandfather’s musty attic.

He did what anyone would do after making such a discovery. Karl located an expert. It turned out that Karl’s grandfather had owned one of the rarest collections of baseball cards ever found – a long-lost series that had been issued around 1910.

It’s estimated value? Three million dollars.

Karl couldn’t believe it. “It’s like finding the Mona Lisa in the attic,” he enthused.

Or perhaps it’s a lot like finding a treasure hidden in a field or discovering a rare pearl in an open market. You don’t expect to find it. You’re not looking for it. In fact, just like Karl Kissner standing in that old attic, it’s probably the very last thing you thought you’d ever find. But you’ll never forget the day you found it.

When Jesus went down to the sea, a large crowd, eager to hear him, gathered so intently that Jesus had to get in a boat, push it slightly off shore, and speak from there. According to Matthew, he shared with the crowd seven parables that day. All seven of these stories Jesus told illustrated the Kingdom of Heaven. (Matthew 13: 1-52).

Two of them spoke to the supreme value of spiritual discovery.

“The Kingdom of Heaven,” Jesus told them, “is like a treasure that a man discovered hidden in a field.” (Matthew 13: 44, NLT). The man, likely poor, is plowing this field for someone else. He expects nothing for his labor except dirt, sweat and a modest payment.  Instead, Jesus says, the man discovers “a treasure” hidden in the field.

And what does this poor man do? He does just what Karl Kissner did. He immediately recognizes that this surprising discovery is of such great value that it could change his life forever.

He must have this treasure.

Jesus said that “In his excitement, he hid it again and sold everything he owned to get enough money to buy the field.” (Matthew 13: 44, NLT, emphasis added).

This man, making his unexpected discovery, instantly knew the value of what he had found hidden in the ground. He wanted this treasure more than he wanted anything else in life. And so the man gave up everything else in order to have this one great thing. He discovered, then he decided, he acted, he sacrificed and he gained what mattered most to him.

And so it was also with the merchant seeking “choice pearls.” Finding the one “pearl of great price”, the shrewd merchant recognizes the true value of his discovery. Jesus says “he sold everything he owned and bought it!” (Matthew 13: 45-46, KJV, NLT).

Very different in background and life experience, both the plowman and the merchant understood the true value of things. They wanted what mattered most. And they willingly gave up everything else in order to get it.

To Jesus – and to those who would be his followers – this means the Kingdom of Heaven. It means eternal life. It means possessing Jesus himself, being his disciple and putting him first in our hearts and in our lives. It means, as Paul told the Philippians, giving up all that the world  holds dear but cannot keep in order to gain all that truly matters and can never be lost.

Living for Jesus – discovering in him our greatest need and greatest treasure –  is worth more than anything else.

Even a box of old baseball cards gathering dust in an attic.

May God bless you and your family.

It was quite an experience for a thirteen year-old boy.

My dad, who took hunting, fishing and the great outdoors with a seriousness of purpose and joy of heart fit for Field & Stream, had arranged for my brother and me to join him on a three-day fishing trip to northern Maine.

We would fly – the whole way.

It was July and the summer still reminds me of my incredible journey.

I’d never been on a plane. We flew from Harford, Connecticut to Bangor, Maine. Then we jumped on a small plane in Orono, home to the University of Maine, and flew about twenty minutes to a town called Millinocket. But our plane rides weren’t over and my dad had saved the best for last.

We boarded a pontoon plane for the final leg of our journey. I watched the water churn white with foam as the floats glided us across the lake and we mounted up for the clear, picturesque flight over the green wilderness. We had been in the air for nearly an hour when we touched down on Henderson Pond.

It’s important to know that the word “pond” in Maine is not so much a metaphor as it is a misnomer. This was a good-sized lake.

The only way into Henderson was by sea plane. There were no roads, no homes, no stores – and no power. It was a beautiful and tranquil place and the stillness you heard was the majesty of creation.

We unpacked and got settled.  As darkness began to envelop our small cabin that first night, Dad took charge. After all, if you were going to be in the middle of nowhere, our dad was the guy you wanted to be with. From a carefully packed box Dad removed the magic that would transform our tiny sanctuary.

It was a forest green Coleman lantern.

As he pumped the small knob to prepare the kerosene for ignition, my brother and I watched in anticipation. The small glow grew bigger and soon the Coleman was shedding its warm light across the room. Then Dad took the lantern and carefully hung it high above the table. It lighted the whole cabin. Each night was the same – out came the Coleman and behold, there was light.

Had it not been for that Coleman lantern, those three nights in the Maine wilderness would have been pretty dark. But Dad had come prepared and he had brought the light.

When Jesus prayed for his disciples on another dark night in an upper room in Jerusalem, he asked his heavenly Father for light. And his prayer wasn’t just for the men in that room who shared his ministry and would lead his church. Jesus prayed for his church throughout time. He prayed for you and for me and for all those who would be his true followers.

“Sanctify them through thy truth,” Jesus prayed. “Thy word is truth.” (John17:17, KJV).

Jesus did not ask the Father to sanctify – that is to consecrate and make holy – his followers through emotion or experience; or politics, popularity or fads; or subjective reasoning and relevant argument. Holiness, Jesus knew, comes through the truth and nothing but the truth.

Jesus also knew the sole repository of all truth was the word of God. And so he inextricably linked them as cause and effect, as a hand slips into a glove. God’s truth is the only source of spiritual awareness, wisdom and progress. And God’s word not only contains that truth – it is God’s truth. And truth is what ultimately matters – not our opinions or feelings or our latest ideas.

Polls and supreme courts can never alter God’s purpose, his mind or his will. It cannot abrogate his truth. Not even slightly. God doesn’t change his mind about his law; he only grieves in his heart at man’s defiance.

God’s word is our light in the darkness.

This is the foundation of Christian faith. Though it is lashed today by the torrents of post – modern cynicism, it stands firm. Peter reminds us that though heaven and earth shall fade away, God’s word shall forever remain.

It is the assault upon the possibility of absolute truth – and the fear and embarrassment of defending God’s word to a culture in wholesale rebellion to it – that has led the Christian church to a slippery accommodation with the world.  Paul, who commanded Timothy to “preach the word”, laid down the gauntlet to believers living in pagan Rome: “Let God be true and every man a liar.” (Romans 3:4, KJV).This must still be our standard and the moral line Christians draw in the shifting sand of public opinion.

Now more than ever, you and I must follow the light of God’s holy and unchanging word.

“We only progress in sound living,” said English preacher Charles Spurgeon, “as we progress in sound understanding.”

Only God’s word can enlighten and instruct our minds and convict and comfort our hearts. Only his word can show us the way.

The psalmist exclaimed in awestruck gratitude:

^“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path” (Psalm 119:105, KJV).

In a world growing darker by the day, that’s even better than Dad’s Coleman.

May God bless you and your family.

As he scanned the incoming crowd, the guest speaker eyed one particular couple.

She smiled graciously. It was apparent she was glad to be there. Her husband, on the other hand, looked clearly pained. He didn’t speak to anyone coming in but simply took his seat.

As the speaker began his message, he couldn’t help but notice this same couple, sitting close to the front. The wife was alert and engaged, listening carefully to every word. She took notes. Her husband started out listening but after about fifteen minutes, the preacher noticed the man’s head tilting downward, his eyes closed.

How sad, the speaker thought. This godly woman had brought her non-Christian husband to the service – his reluctance overcome by her gentle pleadings. And now he embarrasses her – and offends the preacher – by falling asleep mid-sermon. The following afternoon, the husband did the same thing. He fell asleep a third time that evening, not lasting even ten minutes.

Finally, during a break in the conference before the final message, the woman approached the guest speaker. He prepared himself to commend her determination to see her unsaved husband converted and to comfort her in her embarrassing distress at his obvious spiritual indifference.

“I want to apologize for my husband,” the woman began. “I’m sure you’ve noticed he’s had trouble staying awake during your messages. Please don’t take this personally.”

She explained:

“You see, my husband is suffering from terminal cancer and the medicine he’s taking makes him drowsy. Although he’s very sick, he’s been a big fan of yours for years. When he learned that you were speaking this week, he insisted that we come and hear you and said that God would speak to our hearts. And he has. So I want to thank you for your Spirit-filled sermons – and for being patient with my husband.”

Ouch!

Well-known pastor and author Chuck Swindoll tells this story on himself. It’s a lesson – and a sober reminder – for us all.

Appearances are the easiest form of judgment. They require neither investigation nor reflection nor restraint. And, let’s be honest, most of us find some degree of satisfaction in judging others.

Why is that?

Judging others can be a subtle, subconscious attempt at self-justification. We judge so we’ll feel better about ourselves and our own failures – or perhaps our achievements. We realize we may never reach the top rung of the moral ladder. But as long as we know there is someone beneath us – someone guiltier than we are – then we rest a bit easier in our own position. In this sense, judging is the midwife of rationalization. We may be a lot of things but thank God we’re not like her!

Was this not the vain prayer of the Pharisee who went up to the temple? His was a boastful recitation of his own goodness. Without ever knowing the Publican at a distance, the Pharisee judged him anyway – with self-righteous relish.

How deceptive appearances may be.

We think we know when we don’t. We think we’d do this, but we’d be wrong. How easy it is to correct the lives of others when we’re not the ones involved. God told Samuel that not every young man who looks like a king should be a king. “Man looks on the outward appearance,” God warned the prophet. And this is our limitation – our ignorance of both people and situations. “But the Lord looks on the heart.”(I Samuel 16:7,KJV).

We are too often superficial in our judgments. We jump to conclusions and scare the best ones away. When it comes to assessing other people, we delight in knowing what simply isn’t true.

God gets to the core. He peers beneath the surface of things and so his judgments are always just.

It’s important that we ask God for help with this judging business. Jesus says we must. The verse that follows the most famous verse in the Bible is worth an equal remembrance:

“God sent his Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world through him.” (John 3:17, NLT).

“Judge not according to the appearance,” Jesus warns the crowd. (John 24:7, KJV). And in his Sermon on the Mount, he offers us a spiritual and moral quid pro quo:

“Judge not, and ye shall not be judged; condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned; forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.” (Luke 6:37, KJV). But if we insist, in our stubborn pride, on judging and condemning others and refusing to forgive, we betray our Savior’s mission and his mercy.

God does not judge us as we deserve to be judged; instead he is exceedingly gracious. Should we, as his children, be any less kind toward those he also loves?

 “Man judges from a partial view.

None ever yet his brother knew;

The Eternal Eye that sees the whole

May better read the darkened soul,

And find, to outward sense denied,

The flower upon its inmost side!”

John Greenleaf Whittier: The Pressed Gentian

 When we give the benefit of the doubt, let us give it not to the eye but to the heart.

 May God bless you and your family.

Chris Bires, 41, was on his way to work.

He walked this street in downtown Chicago every day, Monday thru Friday. It was routinely uneventful.

Until that day.

When Chris spotted a man playing his saxophone on the street and the empty can next to him, he decided he’d do a good deed. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out all his coins and emptied them into the can. The bearded young saxophonist smiled at the clean-shaven executive and thanked him.

When he got to work, Chris discovered that he was missing his wedding ring. The ring fit a little loose and he had been planning to have it re-sized. He must have somehow accidently handed it over to the street musician when he gave him his money. His heart sunk. Chris raced back to where the saxophonist had been but he was gone.

As he walked back to his office, Chris wondered how he would explain this to his wife. And then he thought, “If only I hadn’t given that guy my money”. Chris ruefully sneered to himself. “I guess it’s like they say, no good deed goes unpunished.”

Weeks went by.

Then one day, walking to work, Chris was anxiously intercepted by a smiling middle-aged woman. She reached into her handbag and pulled something out. When she opened her hand to Chris, there was his lost ring.

Chris couldn’t believe it.

Bonita Franks, a panhandler, had seen Chris return that day telling someone about the man with the saxophone and his lost ring. She remembered it when she later spotted the sax player. And she took it upon herself to get the ring back, as only a street- savvy panhandler could do.

Bonita didn’t know if she’d ever see Chris Bires on that crowded city street again but she vowed to watch and when she did, she couldn’t wait to return to him his lost treasure. And there, on that busy Chicago street, surrounded by all manner of greed, apathy and selfish striving, two unlikely people hugged, brought together by their kindness and generosity.

We’ve all been tempted to feel that in this world, sooner or later, idealism gets brutally mugged; that good deeds are unrequited and, as often as not, punished. Our age breeds cynicism and contempt and the headlines blare it.

We shake our heads. “That figures. They should have known better.”

God, faith and the Bible go boldly against this rough and hardened grain. They beckon us to a higher standard, a softer heart and a more hopeful disposition.

There is an ancient Hebrew saying found in the Old Testament: “Cast your bread upon the waters, for after many days you will find it again” (Ecclesiastes 11:1-2, NIV).

What does this mean?

Give generously, with no thought to your own interests, and, no matter what may happen in the meanwhile, your kindness will not go unnoticed or unrewarded. The blessing may be immediate or it may be delayed but it will never be abandoned or overlooked by a God who sees all and cares deeply.

How do we know this?

Because God will be a debtor to no one. We cannot out-give him. God is the ultimate Giver. He has given us His only Son and our greatest gift, eternal life. Daily God blesses us beyond all measure and in so many ways we fail to count or recall. As the poet wrote, “he giveth and giveth and giveth again.” God is unbelievably and extravagantly generous.

He gave all this to us when we had nothing, could do nothing and were nothing.

We cannot pay God back.

In a world and a culture that’s all about taking and getting, everything about Christianity involves giving. As Jesus prepared to send out the disciples to perform all manner of good deeds, He reminded them:

“Freely you have received, freely give” (Matthew 10:9, NKJV). Their receipt was the basis of their giving.

So is ours.

“Give”, Jesus tells us, “and it will be given to you: good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be put into your bosom. For with the same measure you use, it will be measured back to you” (Luke 6:38, NKJV).

“Give away your life; you’ll find life given back, but not merely given back – given back with bonus and blessing. Giving, not getting, is the way. Generosity begets generosity” (Luke 6:38, The Message).

The poet Edwin Markham expressed this spiritual truth when he wrote:

“There is a destiny which makes us brothers; none goes his way alone. All that we send into the lives of others comes back into our own.”

Chris Bires and Bonita Franks would smile, fist-bump and say, “Back at ya!”

Give away your life to others and you’ll discover life giving back to you.

When was the last time you cast your bread on the waters?

May God bless you and your family.