Classic Quote

I hope I never forget something a student said to me today.

This poor girl was upset over a rumor another girl started about her. She was adamant the rumor was false, that she would never do what this other girl had said she had done, and that the whole matter was an affront to her faith. In fact, she was so indignant about the insult that she had nearly set her faith aside, barely resisting the temptation to make the conflict physical.

But, she really said it better than I did.

Try to imagine a rapid-fire delivery, accented by an index finger in the air, and shoulders bobbing up and down in an alternating pattern:

"Ooooh, Mr. Dominguez, I cannot buh-LEEEVE she said that about me! I'm a Christian; I just went to church last night!" (Friend in background: "Yeah, that's right; Bible study!")

Now, for the kicker:

"You know, I almost said, 'Jesus, go back home to the house, and I'll meet you there after school,' but I didn't."

And, it's a good thing you didn't, young believer.

Sending Jesus back home for awhile. Or, perhaps, leaving Him there in the first place. Stepping away from Him so He won't hear. Turning the corner quickly so He won't see. Awkwardly neglecting to introduce Him to a friend. Pretending He isn't there. Giving Him the silent treatment, in hopes He'll give up and leave.

Good thing only kids think like that.

What I Want to Hear

A movie from several years back climaxes in a dramatic court scene in which the following exchange takes place:

"I want the truth!"

"You can't handle the truth!"

Most of us would agree that when we are engaged in conversation, regardless of when, where, with whom, and on what topic, we would generally state that we want to be told the truth.

We would also agree that we have not always told the truth to others, despite the safe assumption that they want the truth from us as much as we want it from them.

We also know that we don't always like what people tell us when they are being honest.

So, what is it we really want?

An obscure story from I Kings 22 gives an insight into human interaction, and probably an example that could have come from just about anyone's daily life.

Ahab, the evil king of Israel, is paid a visit by Jehoshaphat, king of Judah. In the course of their visit, Ahab laments the fact that the border city of Ramoth-Gilead is still under the control of Aram, the kingdom to the northeast, three years after hostilities had ended. (Can't blame him; how would the average American, let alone the President, feel if Mexico took control of El Paso, and three years had gone by without resolution?)

Ahab decides to take action, and asks Jehoshaphat for support, which he gladly gives, but with the proviso that they first consult the prophets of God to find out whether or not to go to war with Aram over Ramoth-Gilead. Ahab doesn't hesitate to bring in a troop of "prophets" who spout the hoped-for line: "Go up, for the Lord will deliver it into the hand of the king!"

This clearly would have been enough for Ahab, who wouldn't have been likely to seek God's will anyway, but it wasn't enough for Jehoshaphat, who asks if there are still any other prophets to inquire of before proceeding. There's no indication of what Jehoshaphat's reason was for asking this. Was he distrustful of what the first round of prophets said? Did their word sound too automatic to him? Was he simply seeking additional assurance? Was he prompted by God to ask this?

We don't know, but for whatever reason, Jehoshaphat opened the door for a view into Ahab's nature, and the answer to the question of what many people really want.

Ahab concedes that there is another prophet in Israel, but it's not a man he wants to see. In fact, Ahab says, "I hate him, because he never prophesies anything good about me, but always bad. He is Micaiah, son of Imlah."

Jehoshaphat admonishes Ahab for speaking this way about God's prophet, and Ahab sends for Micaiah. While they await Micaiah's arrival, Ahab and Jehoshaphat are treated to even more assurance from the prophets who have already spoken, including one who uses an iron horn to predict that King Ahab will gore Aram to death.

The messenger who fetches Micaiah also pressures him to repeat the message of assurance given by the previous prophets, but Micaiah tells the messenger he'll do no such thing, that he will simply say what God tells him to say.

And the stage is set for a strange, but dramatic confrontation, as Ahab asks Micaiah the question of the day.

Interestingly enough, Micaiah doesn't do what he told the messenger he would do, but instead does what the messenger asked, and just repeats the party line: "Attack and be victorious, for the Lord will give it into the king's hand." No reason is given for Micaiah's reversal. Why would Micaiah boldly tell the messenger he would have no part of lying to the king, but then turn right around and lie to the king? Did he simply get scared, and decide not to make waves? Did he decide that Ahab was a goner anyway, and conclude it wasn't worth the trouble of offending him? What did God think of what Micaiah did? We're not told.

Ahab was evil, but not all of his instincts were wrong. He senses something is amiss in Micaiah's prophecy, and he doesn't trust it. He knows Micaiah has only prophesied doom against him in the past, and he is not prepared to accept this sudden show of support from the prophet.

His ironic rebuke of Micaiah almost sounds like it comes from a parent to a child: "How many times must I make you swear to tell me nothing but the truth in the name of the Lord?"

How many times do I have to tell you? I want the truth!

Really, Ahab? Is that truly what you want? We'll see.

Micaiah gives in, and goes ahead and tells Ahab the truth, accurately conveying God's message of failure and death regarding Ahab's idea of attacking Aram.

And Ahab responds according to his nature, becoming angry with Micaiah, telling Jehoshaphat, "See, I told you about this guy!", and ordering Micaiah thrown into prison until Ahab's safe return from battle.

For the record, Ahab's attack on Aram results in his death, as he is killed by an enemy arrow fired at random into the crowd.

With some people, you just can't win. They want it both ways. "Tell me the truth, but make sure I like what you tell me."

Just in this short story alone, we see examples of:

*A grudge held against someone for his commitment to speak the truth.

*Pressure to lie.

*A bold commitment to speak the truth, followed by a convenient lie.

*A demand for the truth, regardless of content, followed by anger over the content of the truth.

*Disregard for the truth in favor of a lie.

Human nature hasn't changed much since Old Testament times.

So, again, what is it we really want? Do we want the truth? Can we handle the truth? Are we prepared for what the truth might mean in our lives? Do we know where to find it? Are we committed to finding it, even when it's most challenging to our own ideas?

Or, have we already decided what we want to hear?

Much more than our human lives are at stake in our answers to these questions.

A Little Knowledge

My 7th grade History teacher assigned the class an unusual project.

He gave us a little background about a man we had never heard of, named Rube Goldberg. He explained how Mr. Goldberg was known for inventing ridiculously complicated machines to perform simple tasks, and then revealed what our project would be: Each one of us would design and actually construct a device along the lines of what Rube Goldberg might have designed. We were to create a Rube Goldberg machine.

Thanks in large part to my dad, I managed to complete the project, and demonstrated my contraption for the class: a golf ball rolled through a tube, setting off a series of movements, eventually resulting in an egg being cracked over a frying pan.

Neat stuff, but not the point.

It so happened that, during the period of time I was working on this project, my family had dinner with a couple we didn't see very often. We were enjoying getting caught up, and the husband asked me how school was going. I told him it was fine, and thought I would let him in on my project.

But just as I began my story, in a split-second, I reasoned that our family friend, a man in his forties, surely would not be familiar with the name "Rube Goldberg". After all, I had never heard of Rube Goldberg until my teacher brought him up. So, in an effort to spare this poor man the embarrassment of having his ignorance exposed, I launched off into a Rube Goldberg-style explanation of my project, but without actually naming Mr. Goldberg's name. I explained that I was working on a project where I had to create a complicated machine to do a simple job, and so on, and so forth.

Imagine my shock at the man's response:

"Oh, so it's kind of a 'Rube Goldberg' type of thing, eh?"

What?!? How on earth did he know that?

Simple answer: He had lived on planet Earth a lot longer than I had, and he knew a lot of things I knew, and a lot of things I didn't know. Despite my perception, I was, in fact, not in possession of a rare secret with my newfound but shallow knowledge of Rube Goldberg.

Oh, what a little knowledge can do. A measure of knowledge, mixed with pride rather than humility and perspective, can be a dangerous recipe.

About six years later, during my freshman year in college, I had the misfortune of seeing the ugliest form of the arrogance of knowledge. This time, I was on the receiving end.

I was working my job at the circulation desk in the library, when a graduate student approached to check out some books. (Gasp in awe...) What I assumed would be a routine transaction turned out to be a bizarre encounter. The student accepted my greeting, passed over his books and his ID card as usual, but proceeded to say, without any prompt whatsoever, "I was up here earlier, and heard you and that other guy talking, and I want you to know that neither one of you said anything intelligent."

Yes, that's really what he said. Honestly, I don't remember what "that other guy" and I had been talking about, but apparently this man had overheard us, and was not impressed. Why he chose to say what he said, I'll never know.

He may have been right. It's possible my co-worker and I were making no sense at all, especially as judged by the "superior intellect". But what kind of arrogance does it take to say what this guy said to me?

Possibly just a more complete version of the attitude I had toward my friend, when I assumed he wouldn't know something just because it was new to me?

Just as Rube Goldberg wasn't new to my friend, the arrogance of knowledge isn't a new issue in the family of God.

"We know that we all have knowledge. Knowledge puffs up, but love edifies. And if anyone thinks that he knows anything, he knows nothing yet as he ought to know." -- I Corinthians 8:1-2

"Because of your knowledge shall the weak brother perish, for whom Christ died?" -- I Corinthians 8:11

These passages are taken from Paul's discussion of a divisive issue facing the early church in Corinth: Whether or not a Christian could, with a clear conscience, acquire and eat meat that had been previously used in idol worship.

This issue might seem foreign to a Christian living in western culture today, but there are still many lessons to learn.

Paul makes clear in his letter that idols are nothing, and whether or not a Christian eats the meat in question is immaterial. But the interesting thing about Paul's discussion is that he focuses less attention on this question than he gives to the attitude of the people asking it. His primary focus is not on those who don't understand the meat issue; his focus is on those who do.

It's safe to assume that Paul's first choice would have been for everyone to have a perfect understanding of the issue. But short of that, it seems clear that Paul would prefer to see a sincere Christian live with the limited understanding that would lead him to think the meat in question was sinful, rather than to see the same Christian grasp this issue and become scornful of those who didn't.

The worst outcome Paul can see is not for a Christian to live with imperfect understanding; the worst thing would be for the Christian with the greater understanding to offend or alienate the one with less. Or worse yet, to embolden that Christian to violate his conscience.

Many a schoolteacher has quoted the mantra: "Knowledge is power". And there is ample truth to that statement. Knowledge is better than ignorance any day. But there is much more than mere knowledge to a Christ-like spirit and a Godly life.

We will learn much in this new year. Let us pray for the humility and perspective that will allow our knowledge to be a blessing rather than a curse.

No Small Thing

The other day, I was helping our youngest son find a page to color in a Bible-based coloring book. As we flipped through the pages, we came to a depiction of Moses and the burning bush. Something struck me as unusual about the picture, so I took a closer look.

The burning bush was there, Moses was there, "authentic" clothing, walking stick, movie-star hair, everything you would expect.

But one thing was a little odd: the expression on Moses' face. The picture showed Moses approaching the burning bush with one hand raised as in greeting, with a grin on his face from ear to ear, as though he had just run into an old friend in the airport and couldn't have been more delighted.

Somehow, I doubted this was Moses' actual state of mind at that moment, and a review of Exodus 3 confirmed my suspicions.

The scene in the text is quite different from the coloring book version. In the text, Moses approaches the bush out of curiosity, is commanded to remove his sandals out of respect for holy ground, and hides his face for fear of being in the presence of God.

Moses does not respond with enthusiasm to the message given to him from the burning bush. In fact, Moses tries everything he can think of to persuade God to go find someone else for this mission of freeing God's people from slavery.

The scene continues with two miraculous signs that terrify Moses: his staff turning into a serpent, which he then has to pick up, and his hand becoming leprous and returning to normal. And, to top it all off, Moses is told he will have the opportunity to threaten the life of Pharaoh's firstborn son.

We know the rest of the story.

Moses' call at the burning bush results in the rest of his entire life being given to the service of God and His people. And this time is not filled with delight. In fact, the hardship far outweighs the pleasure. The burden is heavy, the people are ungrateful and disobedient, and Moses does not always feel the mission is worthwhile.

Yet his work was necessary. He ushered God's people from one point in their history to another.

Still, do you ever wonder whether Moses thought back on that day when he saw the burning bush? Do you ever wonder whether he wished he hadn't seen it, or that he had just minded his own business and not gone to check it out? There were times when he vented to God in exasperation, asking why he was stuck tending to these people whom he had not fathered, and asking God to simply strike him dead (Numbers 11).

Yes, Moses would have had a simpler, probably more pleasurable life had he not responded to God's call. But can you imagine the depth, the purpose, the understanding he would have missed? Apart from his most frustrating moments in God's service, surely Moses understood this.

The point is not to criticize a coloring book.

The point is to remind God's people that it is no small thing to answer His call.

He asks us to be faithful until death. He promises us an eternity of blessing if we will do so. Few believers hesitate about this, but we tend to forget that this requires a different attitude toward this earthly life than most people are willing to have. Eternity has to be more important, even if it means our time here being nothing like what we had planned and wished for.

Moses learned this, even if he didn't yet understand it at the burning bush.

Will God's people today understand what the children of Israel seldom did?

You Came...Here?

Anyone who has ever moved from one place to another has heard the inevitable questions:

"You're going where?" "Why? What are you thinking?"

It's not always easy for people to understand why someone they care about would choose to relocate. Even if they understand, it's still emotional, with feelings mixed between happiness for a new opportunity, and the grief of knowing how much the person will be missed.

Something interesting can happen on the other end as well.

If you've ever moved from one place to a smaller, less "glamorous" place, some of your new neighbors might very well express surprise that you left what in their minds is a "better" place, to come live in the town they've always called home. While they're glad you're there, and they've welcomed you like family, somewhere in the back of their minds, they're asking, "Why would you come here?"

People are funny. Our hometowns are so great no one should move away, yet at the same time, other places, bigger and better, are so wonderful no one should ever want to leave them and come to our little one-horse town. A lot of this, of course, is in our imagination. Life is life wherever you are.

"You're going where?"

"You came here?"

Two questions asked sincerely by people trying to understand another person's decision. And most of the time, the answer is perfectly understandable once it is explained, and loving people support one another throughout these decisions.

There is a story, however, in which the answers to these same questions aren't so easy to understand.

"The Word became flesh and dwelt among us." -- John 1:14

Never fail to marvel at the fact that He came here. That the Creator became a part of His creation. That He entrusted Himself to the care of two first-time parents with nothing in this world. That He grew up to live a sinless life and gave Himself as the sacrifice to end all sacrifices. That the veil of the temple was torn in two so we could approach God. That He defeated death and rose from the grave. That He sent His Spirit to help us; and that He intercedes for us still. And most of all, that the story is far from over; that He's coming back again.

Who would do this? Is there any other object of faith in this world who can claim anything like this?

What sense could this have made to the angels who announced His arrival? (I Peter 1:12) Can we even claim that it makes sense to us?

Whatever else you do at Christmas time, take time to marvel at what God has done.

Marvel, but more importantly, respond.

The Wrong Hombre to Fool With

You see the picture.

A hat like that would be a prized possession by anyone’s standard. In fact, I had one just like it back in my teens, and wore it with pride, until…

One random weekday morning, my brother Samuel was getting ready for school, and asked if he could borrow my Raiders stocking cap for a field trip that day. It was a cold day, and he was going to be outside, so I agreed, and Samuel took my hat.

I went to school that day and never gave my hat a thought. When I got home that afternoon, I breezed straight to my room as I normally did, unloading my school stuff and turning on some tunes.

Just as I was getting settled in, the moment came. Not sure what the deal was, or what the chemistry of that moment was, but for whatever reason, my fuse was unusually short.

Samuel came in, looking forlorn.

“Uh, Dave…I lost your hat. I left it somewhere on the field trip today.”

Oh, no, you didn’t.

I really don’t remember my words. I hope Samuel doesn’t, either. All I know is that I let him have it. Man, I shook the leaves on the trees. Yeah, that’s right. I was the wrong hombre to fool with. One tough sunnuvugun.

Samuel took this tongue-lashing quietly. He just stood there in silence, staring down at the carpet as I strutted past him and out of the room, far more macho than this hat-losing brother of mine would ever hope to be.

I cruised down the stairs and through the kitchen, right past my mom, who stopped me and said, “Oh, David, I need to tell you something before you talk to Samuel today. He lost your hat on his field trip, but I need you to be understanding. He really felt bad about it. He was crying on the way home.”

Wow.

(Do you remember those old cartoon scenes, when a character realizes he's been a complete jerk, and for just a moment, turns into a skunk, and then back to his normal self?)

Could anyone have scripted this?

My crime became even more heinous when I later learned that Samuel had made a valiant effort to save my precious hat. As his class was about to return to school on their bus, he realized he had left it behind, and insisted the teacher make the bus driver wait while he went back to search for my hat, only to find it was already gone. He had done all he could.

What are the odds? The moment my brother, six years my junior, acted most like an adult, I chose to respond like a child. When the moment called for grace, I refused to be gracious. When a loved one was vulnerable, I was vicious. Just when a point did not need to be made, I took it upon myself to pound it home, and in dramatic fashion.

It was the worst possible response, short of physical violence.

And in contrast: Just when my brother might have felt most justified in fighting fire with fire, he turned the other cheek and absorbed it all.

For everything we understand about the danger of the human tongue, how often do we forget that it's more than a simple matter of the words we choose and the stories we tell?

One of the most revealing tests of our character is the way we choose to treat someone who is vulnerable. What do we do or say when we have the upper hand, and someone else is in a position of weakness? "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." -- Matthew 5:7

Another test, just as crucial as the first, is our commitment to living out the truth of Proverbs 25:11. "The right word at the right time is like precious gold set in silver." How well do we sense where other people are and what they need?

Don't feel up to the test?

"If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him." -- James 1:5

Or, there is always the world's way: Show 'em how tough you are. Repay any offense. Make sure they know you're the wrong hombre to fool with.

And how will Jesus answer?

"I never knew you."

What Is Your Beauty?

Ezekiel 16 is one of many unexplored corners of Scripture to most believers.

In this passage, God gives the prophet Ezekiel an analogy for His relationship with His people, Israel. The analogy begins with a passerby discovering an abandoned newborn, left on the ground, unwashed and helpless. The passerby rescues the baby and cares for her, and watches her mature into a beautiful woman He will call His own. The passerby/rescuer/husband gives His beloved everything there is to give, and she becomes famous for her beauty.

If only the story ended there.

Chapter 16, verse 15: "But you trusted in your beauty..."

The rest of the story is a tragic spiral of promiscuity, idolatry, infanticide, and ruin. In the end, God assures Israel that she will ultimately repent of her evil, and that He will provide atonement for it. But there is much pain to be suffered in the meantime, as Israel reaps the consequences of her unfaithfulness to God.

Naturally, the reader's attention is drawn to Israel's conduct, the idolatry that is equated to marital infidelity. This makes sense, because this conduct is what brought about Israel's ruin. But there is something else here, something that preceded the idolatry and unfaithfulness. Something that provided the starting point for all of that:

"...you trusted in your beauty..."

The origin of every evil committed by Israel was the faith she developed in her own beauty. She came to believe she was who she was by her own power, by her own virtue, and that she could continue to have everything she had by her own will, charm, and connections.

She forgot her beauty was a gift from God. She forgot what she was before He came along and picked her up off the ground. She forgot she was nothing without Him.

Once these facts were forgotten, once the prideful seed was planted and took root, the door was open for God's beloved to become no different than her worldly neighbors. In fact, according to Ezekiel's prophecy, she became even more evil than they were.

If only God's people today weren't just as vulnerable to the same mistake.

What gift from God are you tempted to trust and consider your own? Your looks? Your talent? Your charm? Your intellect? Your wealth? Your career? Your rolodex?

What is your beauty?