I have many favorite characters in Scripture. Actually, I'm not sure you can have more than one "favorite" anything, can you? So there are many that I admire greatly and find inspiration from. But there is one guy who captures my imagination maybe more than any other. His name was Bezalel. We don't know much about him at all. But what the Bible does tell us, I like.
After Moses had led the people of Israel out of Egypt, they camped at the base of Mount Sinai. That's where God called Moses to come up and receive from Him ordinances and laws for the people of God to obey. And it's where God gave Moses instructions for building the Tabernacle, the place where God Himself would dwell among the people. God's instructions were intricate and required precision workmanship. It was a huge undertaking for people who had only known hard labor as slaves for four hundred thirty years. Frankly, they didn't have the skills or the know-how to accomplish the task God had given to them. They'd been making bricks in Egypt their whole lives. But brick-making wasn't going to be part of this job. What were they to do?
That's where my guy, Bezalel, comes in. Exodus 31 says: Now the Lord spoke to Moses saying, "See, I have called by name Bezalel, the son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah. And I have filled him with the Spirit of God in wisdom, in understanding, in knowledge, and in all kinds of craftsmanship, to make artistic designs for work in gold, in silver, and in bronze, and in the cutting of stones for settings, and in the carving of wood, that he may work in all kinds of craftsmanship.
God gave His people a job to do. Then He gave a man the wisdom, and the skills and ability to do the job. They didn't know how to do it. And God knew that. But that didn't stop the plan of God. God just took an old brickmaker and turned him into a skilled craftsman able to produce the beautifully intricate work that He wanted done.
He'll do the same in us.
"And for this purpose I also labor, striving according to His power, which mightily works within me." ~ Colossians 1:29
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
The Measure of Greatness - Part 2
Another thought on the perceived greatness of "great men":
"The cemeteries of the world are filled with indispensible men"
~ Charles DeGaulle
"The cemeteries of the world are filled with indispensible men"
~ Charles DeGaulle
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Heaven Smiled Sunday
One of the things I enjoy most in my ministry is a class I facilitate each Monday evening in the prison called Father Accountability. Father Accountability is a 13-week class designed to enhance parenting skills and to encourage men to step up and be the dads God designed them to be. Because the majority of the inmates in the class have never had a dad in their own lives, it can be a challenging endeavor to simply get them to see that fatherlessness is not the norm and that being a good father to their children is not 'mission impossible' for them.
Week 8 of our 13-week journey together is always special and a lot of fun for all of us. On week 8, we move our class meeting to Sunday afternoon and invite the children of the inmates in the class to come and spend the afternoon with their dads. We call it "PlayDay", and that's exactly what we do: We play. From board games to cards to reading to our children, for one afternoon the surroundings are pushed into the background and its just families enjoying time with one another.
This past Sunday was PlayDay for the current group of dads in the class. As the families arrived there were the typical hugs and kisses as some greeted children they hadn't seen in up to two years. As the families settled in for the afternoon together there were smiling faces all around.
But I noticed one inmate, Derrick, seemed a bit reticent. He was worried his teenage son may not come. Maybe no one would bother to bring him. Or maybe he wouldn't even want to come. While others laughed and played, Derrick waited.
Thankfully, Derrick's son did come. An hour late. As they shared time together I found myself wondering what Derrick was thinking. I hoped the visit was going well.
When our time ended and the visitors filed out, the inmates thanked me repeatedly for arranging the afternoon for them. A few said it was the best time they could remember having with their children. Ever.
Last evening in class, Derrick shared a little bit about his visit with his son. It was hard at first. Awkward. But it went well. So well that his son has asked to be included on Derrick's regular visiting list.
Then Derrick said that as our PlayDay came to an end, he did something he'd never done before: He hugged his boy. He reached out and drew his son close, and hugged him. He said that was awkward, too. But it felt good. He felt like a father.
Something powerful happened here this past Sunday. A father hugged his son for the very first time. A son experienced the loving embrace of a dad who has missed most of his life.
And I think I know God well enough to say He smiled Sunday.
Week 8 of our 13-week journey together is always special and a lot of fun for all of us. On week 8, we move our class meeting to Sunday afternoon and invite the children of the inmates in the class to come and spend the afternoon with their dads. We call it "PlayDay", and that's exactly what we do: We play. From board games to cards to reading to our children, for one afternoon the surroundings are pushed into the background and its just families enjoying time with one another.
This past Sunday was PlayDay for the current group of dads in the class. As the families arrived there were the typical hugs and kisses as some greeted children they hadn't seen in up to two years. As the families settled in for the afternoon together there were smiling faces all around.
But I noticed one inmate, Derrick, seemed a bit reticent. He was worried his teenage son may not come. Maybe no one would bother to bring him. Or maybe he wouldn't even want to come. While others laughed and played, Derrick waited.
Thankfully, Derrick's son did come. An hour late. As they shared time together I found myself wondering what Derrick was thinking. I hoped the visit was going well.
When our time ended and the visitors filed out, the inmates thanked me repeatedly for arranging the afternoon for them. A few said it was the best time they could remember having with their children. Ever.
Last evening in class, Derrick shared a little bit about his visit with his son. It was hard at first. Awkward. But it went well. So well that his son has asked to be included on Derrick's regular visiting list.
Then Derrick said that as our PlayDay came to an end, he did something he'd never done before: He hugged his boy. He reached out and drew his son close, and hugged him. He said that was awkward, too. But it felt good. He felt like a father.
Something powerful happened here this past Sunday. A father hugged his son for the very first time. A son experienced the loving embrace of a dad who has missed most of his life.
And I think I know God well enough to say He smiled Sunday.
Monday, March 16, 2009
The Measure of Greatness
As everything in our society is seemingly shaken to its core, we are finding out the truth about many who were believed to be "great men." From powerful politicians to well-to-do financiers, from the financial titans of Wall Street to the titans of the auto industry in Detroit the measure of all men is being taken. They're being exposed. And they are being found lacking.
Abimelech was one of Israel's leaders during the time of the judges. The Bible says he ruled over Israel for three years. During his reign, it looked like Abimelech was a great success. He maneuvered his way to power and defended his throne with stunning success. He exhibited strong leadership characteristics. Everything seemed to go his way. Despite his success, there was one thing that was always against him: God.
God was against Abimelech because of the way he achieved his successes. He used and abused, and even murdered to get where he was. He schemed to gain power, and schemed even harder to keep it. And God was not pleased. In fact, God brought about the end of Abimelech in a shocking way. The Bible says a woman dropped a millstone from the top of a roof onto his head and crushed his skull.
He wasn't killed by a mighty warrior or a skilled soldier in the line of duty. He was killed by a woman with a millstone and an attitude. Indeed, it was God who repaid the wickedness of this seemingly great man.
The story has always been the same. If God is not pleased, if He does not approve of our lives, all of our "success" is destined to fail. We may have the approval of those around us. We may even have some proclaiming us to be great.
But the only opinion that matters is God's.
Abimelech was one of Israel's leaders during the time of the judges. The Bible says he ruled over Israel for three years. During his reign, it looked like Abimelech was a great success. He maneuvered his way to power and defended his throne with stunning success. He exhibited strong leadership characteristics. Everything seemed to go his way. Despite his success, there was one thing that was always against him: God.
God was against Abimelech because of the way he achieved his successes. He used and abused, and even murdered to get where he was. He schemed to gain power, and schemed even harder to keep it. And God was not pleased. In fact, God brought about the end of Abimelech in a shocking way. The Bible says a woman dropped a millstone from the top of a roof onto his head and crushed his skull.
He wasn't killed by a mighty warrior or a skilled soldier in the line of duty. He was killed by a woman with a millstone and an attitude. Indeed, it was God who repaid the wickedness of this seemingly great man.
The story has always been the same. If God is not pleased, if He does not approve of our lives, all of our "success" is destined to fail. We may have the approval of those around us. We may even have some proclaiming us to be great.
But the only opinion that matters is God's.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Doing Your Best
In Mark 14, just a few days before His arrest and crucifixion, Jesus sat at dinner at the home of a man named Simon in the town of Bethany. As they reclined at the table, the Bible says a woman entered carrying a bottle of costly perfume. Without a word, she approached the Lord, broke the bottle opened, and poured the fragrant oils over Jesus' head.
To some gathered there, it seemed such a waste. "It could have been sold for almost a year's wages, and the money could have benefitted the poor." (How often we find ourselves surrounded by a crowd that always finds fault in what's done for the Lord. People haven't changed.)
When Jesus heard their criticism, He told them to leave the woman alone. She'd done something for the Lord. Her heart was right. Her motivations were pure. The poor weren't going anywhere; they should have been taking care of them anyways.
Then Jesus said: "She has done what she could; she has anointed My body beforehand for the burial."
"She has done what she could." What a wonderful thing to have Jesus say. She gave it all she had. She did her best. She held nothing back.
It seemed like such a small thing. A little act of kindness. She hadn't preached a great sermon, or laid healing hands on the sick. She hadn't performed mighty miracles. She hadn't called down fire like Elijah, or stood up to the injustices around her as the prophets had. But she'd done what she could.
That's all the Lord ever asks of any of us. Just do what you can. If you can't preach, then don't. If you're not a great Bible teacher, that's okay. Just do what you can. Give it your all. Do your best for Him. And one day, when you stand before Him, you'll hear Him say of you, "Well done! You did what you could."
To some gathered there, it seemed such a waste. "It could have been sold for almost a year's wages, and the money could have benefitted the poor." (How often we find ourselves surrounded by a crowd that always finds fault in what's done for the Lord. People haven't changed.)
When Jesus heard their criticism, He told them to leave the woman alone. She'd done something for the Lord. Her heart was right. Her motivations were pure. The poor weren't going anywhere; they should have been taking care of them anyways.
Then Jesus said: "She has done what she could; she has anointed My body beforehand for the burial."
"She has done what she could." What a wonderful thing to have Jesus say. She gave it all she had. She did her best. She held nothing back.
It seemed like such a small thing. A little act of kindness. She hadn't preached a great sermon, or laid healing hands on the sick. She hadn't performed mighty miracles. She hadn't called down fire like Elijah, or stood up to the injustices around her as the prophets had. But she'd done what she could.
That's all the Lord ever asks of any of us. Just do what you can. If you can't preach, then don't. If you're not a great Bible teacher, that's okay. Just do what you can. Give it your all. Do your best for Him. And one day, when you stand before Him, you'll hear Him say of you, "Well done! You did what you could."
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
He Sighed
This is a re-post, but it's been on my mind again. Enjoy.
They brought to Him one who was deaf and spoke with difficulty, and they implored Him to lay His hand on him. Jesus took him aside from the crowd, by himself, and put His fingers into his ears, and after spitting, He touched his tongue with the saliva; and looking up to heaven with a deep sigh, He said to him, "Ephphatha!" that is, "Be opened!" And his ears were opened, and the impediment of his tongue was removed, and he began speaking plainly.
~ Mark 7:32-35
I have a very vivid imagination that tends to work overtime as I read the gospel accounts of the life of Jesus. I like to put myself right there where the action is. I'm in the crowd, right up near the front so I won't miss anything. I try to imagine the scene, see the looks of the faces, and hear the words being spoken and the murmur of the crowds. Sometimes I can even feel the mood of the people around Jesus - wonder, awe, excitement, hurt, despair, and yes, even anger.
I've put myself on the scene in Mark 7 before. I've been there as they brought the man who was deaf and struggled to speak with any clarity. I've felt that man's trepidation and the deep desire of those who brought him to Jesus to see him healed. They knew Jesus could. It was His season of miracles.
When Jesus took the man by the arm and led him away from the crowd, in my mind, I went with them. Jesus put His fingers in the man's ears (Without washing his hands?) and then spit and touched the man's tongue with the saliva (Oooo! Gross, huh?) I'd seen this scene all before.
But there is something here that I had never seen until today.
"... and looking up to heaven with a deep sigh, ..." With a deep sigh? I'd missed that before. Jesus let out a deep sigh, then He prayed and healed the man.
Now I know what it usually means when I sigh deeply. Usually it means I'm angry and beginning to lose patience with something or someone. Sometimes a deep, exaggerated sigh let's everyone know how superior I am to everyone else and how gracious I'm being to even give the little people the time of day. I sigh when I don't like something, don't agree with something, or decide to dig in my heels and be stubborn about something.
But I don't think Jesus' sigh was anything like my sighs. His was the sigh of a Creator who's creation was broken. It was a somewhat sad, maybe a bit mournful, even a little frustrated kind of sigh. A sigh that said, "It's not supposed to be like this. This isn't what My creation is supposed to look like."
I wonder how often Jesus looks at our lives and sighs that same kind of sigh. Even as He makes intercession with the Father for us, I can almost hear it. How often He must look at us with all of our issues, and the baggage we drag around with us, and say, "It's not supposed to be like that. I didn't make him like that."People in the midst of the pain of separation and divorce. Lonely people. Sick people. Addicted. Homeless. Helpless. Prisoners. People hurting and causing so much hurt for others. It wasn't supposed to be like that.
I think we all illicit a sigh from our Savior every now and again.
But then He prays ...
They brought to Him one who was deaf and spoke with difficulty, and they implored Him to lay His hand on him. Jesus took him aside from the crowd, by himself, and put His fingers into his ears, and after spitting, He touched his tongue with the saliva; and looking up to heaven with a deep sigh, He said to him, "Ephphatha!" that is, "Be opened!" And his ears were opened, and the impediment of his tongue was removed, and he began speaking plainly.
~ Mark 7:32-35
I have a very vivid imagination that tends to work overtime as I read the gospel accounts of the life of Jesus. I like to put myself right there where the action is. I'm in the crowd, right up near the front so I won't miss anything. I try to imagine the scene, see the looks of the faces, and hear the words being spoken and the murmur of the crowds. Sometimes I can even feel the mood of the people around Jesus - wonder, awe, excitement, hurt, despair, and yes, even anger.
I've put myself on the scene in Mark 7 before. I've been there as they brought the man who was deaf and struggled to speak with any clarity. I've felt that man's trepidation and the deep desire of those who brought him to Jesus to see him healed. They knew Jesus could. It was His season of miracles.
When Jesus took the man by the arm and led him away from the crowd, in my mind, I went with them. Jesus put His fingers in the man's ears (Without washing his hands?) and then spit and touched the man's tongue with the saliva (Oooo! Gross, huh?) I'd seen this scene all before.
But there is something here that I had never seen until today.
"... and looking up to heaven with a deep sigh, ..." With a deep sigh? I'd missed that before. Jesus let out a deep sigh, then He prayed and healed the man.
Now I know what it usually means when I sigh deeply. Usually it means I'm angry and beginning to lose patience with something or someone. Sometimes a deep, exaggerated sigh let's everyone know how superior I am to everyone else and how gracious I'm being to even give the little people the time of day. I sigh when I don't like something, don't agree with something, or decide to dig in my heels and be stubborn about something.
But I don't think Jesus' sigh was anything like my sighs. His was the sigh of a Creator who's creation was broken. It was a somewhat sad, maybe a bit mournful, even a little frustrated kind of sigh. A sigh that said, "It's not supposed to be like this. This isn't what My creation is supposed to look like."
I wonder how often Jesus looks at our lives and sighs that same kind of sigh. Even as He makes intercession with the Father for us, I can almost hear it. How often He must look at us with all of our issues, and the baggage we drag around with us, and say, "It's not supposed to be like that. I didn't make him like that."People in the midst of the pain of separation and divorce. Lonely people. Sick people. Addicted. Homeless. Helpless. Prisoners. People hurting and causing so much hurt for others. It wasn't supposed to be like that.
I think we all illicit a sigh from our Savior every now and again.
But then He prays ...
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Caution: God At Work
When God begins to deconstruct all that you've come to believe a life in Christ must look like (and trust me, He will) - it is maddeningly exciting and frustratingly beautiful ... all at once.
Monday, March 2, 2009
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