Can't Wait

I can't wait 'til tomorrow when I deliver the message the Lord has laid on my heart for the inmates. It's one of those that's been percolating for four or five days in my heart and mind. I know it is the word God wants His congregation to hear.

I Yam What I Yam

"And I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has enabled me, for that He counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry; who was before a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious: but I obtained mercy, because I did it ignorantly and in unbelief.
And the grace of our Lord was exceeding abundant with faith and love which is in Christ Jesus.
This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptance, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief. Howbeit for this cause I obtained mercy, that in me first Jesus Christ might show forth all longsuffering, ..."
~ 1 Timothy 1:12-16

I hear a lot of teaching and preaching today about who we are in Christ. I pick up bits and pieces of it as I channel surf sometimes. But what I hear is very often only one side of the equation.

We are more than conquerors through Him who loved us (Romans 8:37). Chosen people, and a royal priesthood (1 Peter 2:9). Heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ (Romans 8:17). The head and not the tail (Deuteronomy 28:13). And on ... and on.
All true. All of this is in God's Word concerning His people. But there's more.

I heard my pastor say recently, "I bring to God what I am. Not what I wish I was. Not what I want to be or what I or anyone else thinks I ought to be."
When I came to Christ I came with a lot of baggage. So did you. Now, nearly twenty eight years later, a lot of that stuff has been dealt with. But I find I'm still toting some of that stuff around. And I've even picked up some more along the way. Now I've got some 'churchy, christian-ese' type baggage I don't think He ever meant for me to pick up along the way.

So even as I am everything God's Word says I am, I'm also a work in process. That can be quite frustrating. It can also look like a real train wreck at times. In his later life, Paul seems to have seen this dichotomy of the Christian life. I am everything God's Word says that I am as a follower of the Lord Jesus. But I'm also uniquely me. And that 'me part' comes with baggage.

Early in his ministry, Paul referred to himself as "the least of the apostles" (1 Corinthians 15:9). Later he called himself "the least of all the saints" (Ephesians 3:8). It was only after many years as he neared the end of his life and ministry he came to see himself as "chief among sinners."
I must never get so carried away with who I am in Christ that I forget I am utterly hopeless if not for His mercy and grace. "Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners - of who I am chief." Not 'was chief '. Not 'used to be chief.' I still am.

Like Popeye used to say: "I yam what I yam."

Still Kickin'

March 26, 2003.

Five years ago today I was diagnosed with cancer. That diagnosis was followed by surgery and five months of chemo. I've had a clean bill of health ever since.

That was a strange six months. In some ways it seems very recent. In others, it was a lifetime ago. Thinking back on it, it's almost as if it wasn't even my life. It's as if that was a whole different life. It's like I was just an observer detached from it all.

I know the Lord allowed me to go through all of that for a reason. But I don't know why. Maybe I never will. Maybe it wasn't about me at all. An inmate once told me that he thought my struggle during those months was for him and the other inmates to see.
My greatest fear is that He had something great to reveal to me, or something I was supposed to learn through it, and I missed it.

I can tell you this: Five years later, I'm still kicking. Maybe not as high as I used to, but still kicking nonetheless.

Me As a Mentor

I've recently been asked by a very close friend who is attending seminary locally to be his mentor. The school's degree programs require participation in 'mentored ministry' whereby the student is coached and counseled by someone in full-time ministry to gain insights not found in the classroom.
I've agreed to do it. I just wonder what, if anything, I have to offer.

I don't have a seminary degree. In fact, I was a high school drop-out. I earned a GED and only finished work on a Bachelor's degree a few years ago. I have no formal training. My ministry style? (That was one of the questions on the 'mentored ministry' forms I had to fill out - What is your ministry style?) I'm not sure what they're looking for there. I guess it's unorthodox, to say the least. I kind of just show up every day.

Scary, huh? This idea of me mentoring someone for future ministry strikes me as funny. God's sense of humor. I'm thinking there's a real possibility I could screw up this brother's whole ministry before it ever gets started. Maybe this 'Tom Burger-as-mentor-thing' should come with some kind of a warning label.

My IRS Experience

The IRS has gotten a bad rap.

All my life I've heard horror stories about peoples' dealings with the United States Internal Revenue Service. This morning I had my first personal interaction with a representative of this dreaded federal agency.

There was an apparent problem with my return which not only negated my refund, but also left me owing a rather substantial amount. I pulled out copies of my return and immediately found what I thought might be the problem. Two small blanks. Two bits of missing information.
I called and, after holding for a bit, talked to a gentleman who was incredibly helpful. I gave him my information and described the problem as I found it to be. He pulled up my file, confirmed my suspicion regarding the error, and answered my questions.
Then he surprised me. He asked if I had access to a fax machine and told me to fax to his attention the corrected information. He would then correct my return, thereby reinstating my refund. He even called me back after I faxed the information to let me know he'd corrected my return and when I could expect my refund.

He didn't have to do that. He could have been a jerk about it. Truthfully, I was expecting the worst. It was my error and I should have caught it before mailing the return.

So here's to you, Mr. IRS-Man. You're not anything like we thought.

You're Not Worthy

We enjoyed a wonderful worship service last evening with about sixty inmates at the prison. Being holy week, we remembered the Lord's sacrificial death and glorious resurrection as we shared together in taking the Lord's Supper.

As I prepared the communion table earlier in the afternoon an inmate came by to see me. When he saw the communion elements, he got very quiet and sort of introspective. I asked what was wrong. He said, "I always have a hard time about communion. Chaplain, I don't ever think I'm worthy to take it." My quick response was, "You're not!" Then I explained myself.

None of us is worthy. We all carry the stench of our own sinfulness. That makes us totally unworthy.
That's why the cross is so very vital. That's why the shed blood of our Passover Lamb must be applied to the doorposts of our lives. The blood applied says to God, "I deserve death, but I trust You for life." It's the application of that blood that makes the most vile, the most unworthy among us to be acceptable to God.

It's only by the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on Calvary's cross that we are made worthy to partake. It was that realization that drove us last night. That in and of itself gave a bunch of hardened convicts, stained by their own vileness in the eyes of the world, reason to worship like you'll never experience in most churches. It was my privilege to be there among them.

"For if the blood of goats and bulls and the ashes of a heifer sprinkling those who have been defiled sanctify for the cleansing of the flesh, how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without blemish to God, cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?"
~ Hebrews 9:13

No Compromise in the Cross

"The cross of old Roman times knew no compromise; it never made concessions. It won all its arguments by killing its opponent and silencing him for good. It spared not Christ, but slew Him the same as the rest. He was alive when they hung Him on that cross and completely dead when they took Him down six hours later. That was the cross the first time it appeared in Christian history."
~ A.W. Tozer

Which Cross?

What is the cross to you?

A symbol of your redemption? Or just your 'bling-bling' around your neck?

Purpose

"And it came to pass, when the time was come that He should be received up, He stedfastly set His face to go to Jerusalem..."
~ Luke 9:51

Holy week brought Jesus face-to-face with His purpose. He came to die. Every sermon He preached, every word spoken, every miracle performed, and every step He took was toward the cross. Even as He entered Jerusalem to the cries of 'Hosanna' He knew His purpose lay beyond the adoration of people. Calvary was His destination.

I've always wondered when He knew it. Did He realize it as a boy when He played with the other kids in Bethlehem? Or as He learned a trade at the side of Joseph, the carpenter? Did He know it when He turned the water into wine at the wedding feast in Cana? Did He realize as He relieved the suffering of others how much He would have to suffer Himself?
Whenever it was, it became evident to all those around Him. He knew. He understood His purpose.

Luke's words sound to me like a recollection from someone who remembered it well. "He stedfastly set His face to go to Jerusalem."
Maybe it was a look in His eyes they hadn't seen before. Or a determination in His steps. Or maybe it was the way He squared His shoulders toward the holy city.
Whatever it was that they saw, they knew. He was on a mission. Although they still didn't understand it, in fact, they never would have imagined what would happen in Jerusalem at that Passover, they saw something on His journey there.
They saw purpose.

Holy Week

Holy Week has always held much mystery and suspense in my mind. A simple reading of the gospel accounts of the week between Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem and His resurrection invokes the full range of emotions. You can feel the excitement, and the tension, and the joy and anger, and the uncertainty and fear as they lingered over the city.

It was Passover. Scholars believe there may have been as many as 2 million people in and around Jerusalem to celebrate the feast. Many knew Jesus and believed. Others had heard the stories of miracles and powerful preaching. They were hungry for a deliverer, a modern-day Moses, and they desperately wanted to believe. But the religious leaders, because of their fear of Rome and their desire for power, wanted Him destroyed.
Thus the cries of 'Hosanna' as He entered the city turned to jeers of 'Crucify Him' just a few days later.

It all seems so surreal to me. And I'm reading it two thousand years later. Imagine having been there.
But it was all according to God's plan.

Grace For My Past

Been re-reading John's account of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well of Sychar. The woman's response to her encounter with Christ has got me to thinking.
The Bible says she ... left her waterpot, and went into the city and said to the men, "Come see a man who told me all the things that I have done."

'Come see a man who told me all the things that I have done?' I don't think I'd like that. I know I wouldn't be comfortable with it. Neither would you.
I don't like for anyone to bring up my past. I don't like to talk about it. I don't even like to think about very much of it.

I might be willing to talk a bit about 'some' of the things I have done. Like the time I hit a half-court game-winning shot in eighth grade basketball against the best team in our league. (Very cool day.) Or when I did a great job at work and was rewarded. Or when I was given special recognition for my achievements. There are slices of my past that come to mind that I may be willing to talk about.
But for the most part, I don't want to go there. And I don't want anybody else going there either. It's nobody's business. You see, there's a lot of stuff back there that I'd rather just forget about. A lot of stupid stuff that I hope no one ever brings up again. And I certainly don't need some stranger rooting around in my past, telling me everything I've ever done.

Jesus told this woman all the things she had ever done. It wasn't pretty. She had a 'man problem.' She'd been married to five of them, and she was living with yet another. Imagine the hurt and anger and shame in her past. Not stuff she probably wanted to talk about with anyone other than maybe her therapist.
But amazingly, when Jesus told here all the things she had done, she was happy about it. You can sense her excitement as she gushes to the men in town to come meet this man she'd been talking to. (Notice she told the men. I'm guessing the women in town didn't want to hear what she had to say. But the men sure did.)
"Come see a man who told me all the things that I have done." It seems her past was okay in Jesus' hands.

He has a way of doing that. Of making our past alright. I think it's His promise in Hebrew 8 to "...be merciful to (our) iniquities, and remember (our) sins no more." Or His promise in 2 Corinthians 5:19 that He won't "count (our) trespasses against (us)."
We can trust Him with our past. He can tell us all the things we've done, and yet we're safe. In fact, that's the only way our past becomes okay. Letting Him go there. Letting Him deal with all of the junk in our past and making it okay. That's the beginning.

The woman at the well allowed Jesus to delve into her past like no one had ever done before. When she went away, she still had the same past. She'd was still a five-time divorcee living with someone she wasn't married to. But it was different. Instead of hiding her past, she was proclaiming it. It had been touched by the grace of the Savior. Now it was her testimony.

Loving Forgetfullness

"... and I will remember their sins no more"
~ Hebrews 8:12


Aren't you glad God forgets?

Amazing Results of One Man's Ministry

When missionary Robert Morrison arrived in China in 1807, there wasn't a single Christian. Morrison labored for twenty-six years, and saw fewer than twenty converts.

Most would consider such results a failure. Many might wonder if Morrison had indeed "missed God." Maybe he just didn't belong there. Maybe he was outside of God's will for his life.
But over that twenty-six years he became fluent in the Chinese language and undertook to translate the Scriptures into the native tongue. It became his life's work.

While he may not have seen the results of his labor, we certainly can. Today, even by the conservative estimates of the Chinese government, there are forty million Christians in China.

Just keep doing what God has assigned to you. Let Him look after the results.

Life is Good

Enjoying a lazy, rainy day.

Looking forward to having all of the family here together this weekend.

Ain't I a blessed fella?

Thirty Days?

I was in Sam's Club yesterday and saw a book on sale called "Know the Bible in Thirty Days." I couldn't resist picking it up to thumb through it. Before I could even get to it two different people came by and grabbed copies to purchase. It must be striking a chord with people.

But it got me to thinking: Is it possible to know the Bible in just thirty days? I've been studying this Book of books for nearly thirty years. I spent five years earning a degree in Biblical Studies. Thirty days? Boy, do I feel like an real moron.

Written over the course of some 1800 years by more than forty different authors, the Bible describes itself using words like 'mystery' and 'hidden wisdom'. It is, in fact, revelatory. It is the revelation of God Himself as He chooses to make Himself known to men. It is authored by God Himself as He moved upon holy men to pen words which bare His very heart and mind. It is the embodiment of truth. Not the kind of post-modern, subjective truth in which our world has wrapped itself as it has conveniently learned to justify itself in all of it's ungodliness. Rather it is the eternal, unchanging truth of Almighty God.
I don't believe it was ever meant for any man to master it in thirty days.

But we would love that, wouldn't we? It fits our microwave, fast food mentality. We live in a convenience society where 'instant' is better. We've got oatmeal in our pantry that can be ready for breakfast in five minutes. But that's not good enough. So now we've got 'instant' oatmeal that can be ready in one minute.
We're surrounded by thirty day programs and seven step agendums. We want what's fast to be even faster. We want it convenient to fit our lifestyle.

Thirty days might be fine for losing twenty pounds or stopping a bad habit. Instant is okay for my breakfast. But the Word of God may take a bit longer.

Stand Still

"And Moses said unto the people, "Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord, which He will show you today ..."
~Exodus 14:13

With an army bent of their total annihilation charging after them and a sea stretching before them, Moses told the people of Israel to stand still. While it doesn't seem they had any alternative, I'm sure many among them were trying hard to come up with one.

Stand still? Not my natural tendency. Fight. Swim. Run. Complain. Do something! Yet to do anything other than stand still is to miss the salvation of the Lord on full display.

I guess I'm still thinking about the disciples of the Lord in the garden at His arrest. (See my previous post) They started to fight. Then they ran. But what was occurring right in front of them was their means to God's salvation. The salvation of the Lord was unfolding in their very midst. But in that few moments their reactions carried them from one extreme to the other.
Standing still - no fighting - no running - doing nothing - seems to me to be the middle of those extremes.

Extreme Living

"And behold, one of those who were with Jesus reached and drew out his sword, and struck the slave of the high priest, and cut off his ear."
~ Matthew 26:51

"Then all of the disciple left Him and fled."
~ Matthew 26:56


Just four verses of Scripture separate two extremes. Just a few moments really.
One minute the disciples were ready to fight for Jesus. The next, they ran away. One minute swords were drawn in a show of courage and strength. The next, they were slinking away into the darkness, just hoping they wouldn't be pursued. From ready to fight, maybe even to die, to running for your life scared.
Amazing, isn't it?

I got a little bit aggravated with Jesus' followers as I read these verses the other day. What kind of men must these disciples have been? What kind of men can go from one extreme to the other in just a minute or two? Then it hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks. They were like me. Or I'm just like them. So are you.
We (or should I say "I") live from one extreme to the other most days. From fired-up to cold as stone seems to be our modus operandi. I can't explain it, and I wish it wasn't that way.

Jesus wasn't surprised by what happened. He knew His disciples.
Did He want them to fight that night in the garden? No. He told them to knock it off. Put the sword away. But He didn't necessarily want them to run away in fear and abandon Him either.
Maybe He just wanted them to stand there and do nothing. Maybe He wanted them to just trust Him; to trust that this was God's plan and it was okay.

Maybe rather than running to either extreme, He wants the same from us.

Surrounded

"For it is Thou who dost bless the righteous man, O Lord,
Thou dost surround him with favor as with a shield."
~ Psalm 5:12