My Least Favorite Scripture

Posted by Jim Thornber on May 21, 2018
Posted in: Christian Spirituality, Religion, Scripture. Tagged: , , , , , . Leave a comment

How many of you have your favorite verses of Scripture? You know, the ones you’ve memorized, written down, maybe even have them framed and hung on the wall or, most importantly, plastered on the refrigerator door. Me too. Since I turned fifty-seven years old a few months back, I’m becoming fond of Song of Songs 2:14, where the young man tells his bride, “Let me see your face; let me hear your voice. For your voice is pleasant, and your face is lovely.” It gives me comfort to think that as the remaining hair on my head turns grayer and the lines grow deeper on my face, God still likes to hear me speak and enjoys seeing my face in His presence.

However, for many years I’ve also had a least favorite Scripture, because I just couldn’t understand what it meant. Whenever anyone asked what faith was, some well-meaning person in the room would always quote Heb. 11:1, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” True, that’s what is says. Can’t deny it. Now, what the heck does that mean? “Well,” they’d say, “faith is a substance, a thing that, uh, you know, you have when you’re, uh, hoping for something like heaven or a blessing, or, uh…” About that time I’d say, “Never mind. I’m still confused.” Do you see why it was my least favorite Scripture?

The problem with quoting this one verse of Scripture and stopping there is this: Although it is technically correct, it is contextually incomplete. To take one verse of Scripture, quote it, then sit back and wait for the light to come on over everyone’s head is a bit presumptuous. Even the author of Hebrews wasn’t so mean as to just give us the definition without giving us a bunch of illustrations. You see, Hebrews 11:1 can be the most frustrating verse in the Bible if it just hangs alone, because in just a few more sentences the author tells us that without faith, it is impossible to please God (11:6). Now Scripture tells me I must have faith to please God, but I’m still not sure what faith is!

Fortunately, the author of Hebrews doesn’t just stop with the definition, because he knows the definition alone won’t help us. Instead, Hebrews 11 gives us one verse of definition followed by thirty-nine verses of illustration, telling us how the heroes of the Bible lived their lives according to their faith.

Could it be that faith is best defined by the people who live it? Could it be that faith is not so much a possession to admire as much as it is a gift to be used? In fact, faith is such a word of action that we can learn thirty-nine times more about it by exercising it than we can by defining it. The best way to define faith is by looking into the lives of people who placed their entire hope and trust in a God they could not see, touch, or comprehend. The heroes of Hebrews 11 didn’t describe faith in a neat, concise sentence, but lived it in their everyday actions and learned it well by obeying the Word. Therefore, the world can tell you are a person of faith because of the way you live, not because of the Scriptures you can quote.

Now I don’t mind Hebrews 11:1 as much as I used to. I still haven’t completely figured out the substance and the evidence parts yet, but who knows? Maybe one day that verse will make it to my refrigerator door.

 

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Jesus Feeds 9,000

Posted by Jim Thornber on April 27, 2018
Posted in: Christian Spirituality, Religion, Scripture. Tagged: , , , , , . Leave a comment

I wrote this a number of years ago while I was a between ministry positions. Perhaps it will help some readers who are between God’s assignments in their life. Blessings.

“We have only five loaves of bread and two fish,” they answered. “Bring them here to me,” Jesus said. – Matthew 14:13-21; 15:32-38 

Up until recently, I never had a need or an opportunity to apply these verses to my life. However, since I have been an unemployed minister for a while, I am starting to read Scripture differently, because I am starting to doubt my own resources.

As I search, seek, and ask God about my next assignment, I cannot help but wonder about my skills and talents and why so many churches have no interest in employing me. I do not have an answer at this time, but it has driven me to look at Scripture in a different light.

Because my primary spiritual gift is teaching, I have spent years reading the Bible mostly for those things I could teach from the pulpit or in the Sunday school class. However, since those two forums have recently (and, I pray, temporarily) dried up, I have resorted to reading Scripture not so much for how I can apply it to your life, but for how I can apply it to mine! Yes, I should have been doing this all along, but I am a little slow on the uptake. Just like the disciples in these two passages. Perhaps this is why these stories bothered me as I read them this morning. They hit too close to home.

In the first passage, the disciples show their concern for the crowd, but in a selfish way. They know the crowd needs to eat, but the disciples do not want to take responsibility for this task and ask Jesus to send them away. Not missing a beat, Jesus says, “That isn’t necessary – you feed them” (14:16 NLT).

However, the disciples reply by saying they do not have adequate resources. “But we only have five loaves of bread and two fish!” they tell Jesus.

“Bring them here,” Jesus says.

At that point, I stopped reading.

I am feeling a bit like the disciples. I know I have some resources, but they seem so meager and inadequate for the task. It is all too overwhelming for me. People need to be fed and taught and discipled and trained to do the work of ministry, and all I have is a little Bible training and a passion to teach.

“Bring them here,” Jesus tells me.

And I know what will happen when I do. He will take the little I have and bless it and make it adequate for the job He has assigned for me. Feeling better about myself – if not a tad rebuked – I continued reading.

Now I come to the second story, the feeding of the 4,000 (5,000 plus 4,000 equals 9,000, hence the title, if you were wondering.)

In the second passage, Jesus has to tell the disciples of His compassion for the hungry people, and guides the disciples into an understanding of the people’s need to eat. The disciples respond by wondering where they could find enough food to feed everybody. Jesus takes them a step further and asks them what they have on hand. “Seven loaves, and a few small fish,” they reply.

Once again, Jesus asks for their limited resources, blesses it, returns it to the disciples and has them distribute it to the people. Much to their amazement, the disciples discover that not only were 4,000 men fed, but like before, there were baskets full of leftovers.

I stopped reading again. This one not only hit home, it destroyed it.

I have often prided myself on my ability to read Scripture, understand enough of it to apply it in a situation, and find a way to teach it. But this second story, coming so quickly on the heals of the first, reminds me how often I have to learn the same lesson numerous times. I used to shout at the disciples, “Why are you so dense? Didn’t you get it the first time?” Now I leave the disciples alone and ask myself the same questions.

So what are the lessons for me? (I don’t know about you. Go get your own lessons.).

  1. Jesus knows my limited resources.
  2. Jesus asks me to bring my resources to Him.
  3. Jesus blesses my resources beyond my comprehension.
  4. I may have to learn this lesson more than once.

 

Fortunately, there will come a day when Jesus will send me out to feed the hungry, pray for the sick, teach new disciples and bring glory to His name. I only pray that I don’t have to learn this lesson too many times. I’m tired of being unemployed.

 

 

What Is That Ringing In My Ears?

Posted by Jim Thornber on April 19, 2018
Posted in: Christian Spirituality, Religion, Scripture. Tagged: , , , , . Leave a comment

By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going.  Hebrews 11:8

 

Abraham’s patient obedience is starting to irk me. He did not own any land, nor had he personally received any as an inheritance, and so Abraham lived as a tent dwelling nomad, moving from place to place. He waited twenty-five years to see the son God promised him, and never really possessed the land God said his children would inherit.

I keep wondering how Abraham could remain so patient in his obedience. We live in a society that grows impatient if it takes too long for the coffee to brew in the morning, much less wait four hundred years for escrow to close on our new property! Still, Abraham went to Canaan possessing nothing but faith.

  • He didn’t know where he was going
  • He didn’t have a house when he arrived
  • He didn’t own any land to build upon
  • He didn’t know anybody who lived there

He had no job, no prospects, no forwarding address, no inheritance from his family, and of course no children to give the inheritance to even if he had one. With all that going for him, Abraham “when called . . . obeyed and went” (vs. 8), because his faith was certain of what he did not see (Heb. 11:1) and apparently he didn’t even give it much thought. The phrase “when called” translated an action indicating a quick response. In other words, while the call of God was still ringing in his ears, Abraham was packing his bags and moving west.

When was the last time I obeyed the word of God while the sound of His instructions was still ringing in my ears?  Too often, I’ve been guilty of telling God what I think He really meant to say, hoping that He would understand my viewpoint and change His instructions to meet my faith where I am comfortable. However, by the time I get through arguing a point with God, I sometimes forget what the original instructions were, and then of course I must start all over again.

I know I’m not the only one guilty of this. I’ve met other Christians who are guilty of giving obedient lip service to God, but when it comes to doing what they say they will do, they fall short of the mark. Jesus knew this to be the case for many of us and so He told a parable of two sons (Matt. 21:28-32), with one saying to his father, “I will, sir,” but in the end did not obey.   The true children of Abraham, also known as disciples of Christ, obey in word and deed. In this spirit, Abraham believed God and quickly obeyed. Hebrews 5:9 reminds us that Jesus is the “source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.” It is one thing to believe God’s directives, and quite another to obey them.

But there have been times when I have jumped up and obeyed at the quickest possible moment, and the joy from that obedience is enough to make me say, “Ask me to do something else Lord, this is great!” There is a joy in faithful obedience to God that one can find nowhere else.

Does this mean that every time I quickly obey I will like the results? No, but my limited understanding of “good results” isn’t really the point, is it? God calls me to obey and leave the results up to Him. By releasing the controls, God is able to work in a way that is beyond my understanding, setting me free from the burden of having to steer my own life. I believe that God’s vantage point gives Him a better view of my horizon, so I trust Him to steer me in the direction that I need to go.

Now, what is that ringing in my ears?

 

Exposing Myself In Public

Posted by Jim Thornber on April 13, 2018
Posted in: Christian Spirituality, Religion, Scripture. Tagged: , , , , , . Leave a comment

 “Ham . . . saw his father’s nakedness and told his two brothers outside”– Genesis 9:22

private-vs-publicA while back I worked for a company where the employees were very particular about their personal parking spaces. There were no signs stating whose spot was whose, but everyone that worked there long enough knew which spots were reserved for which employees.

I, of course, discovered this unspoken truth the hard way one day when I parked in someone’s spot. I wasn’t at work two minutes before I was told to go move my vehicle. This person was not about to walk the extra fifty feet to get in the building, and actually parked in the driveway until I removed my vehicle from “their” spot.

As I was thinking about telling some of my fellow employees about this situation (how this other individual made themselves look petty and small and how I took the noble road and moved my car) Genesis 9:22 came to mind – a Scripture, naturally, I’d just read the day before. Isn’t God interesting that way?

As I read the whole story, I believe the error Ham made was not that he saw his father naked (that was purely by accident), but that he told his brothers about it (that was purely by choice). There are many things we’ll see in life that will expose people. Lies, pain, pride, loss, vanity, fear, etc. – all these expose the naked truth about people. It turns out Noah acquired a taste for too much wine. Who wouldn’t want a drink after witnessing the destruction of almost every person on the planet? Why does this fact need to be spread? Why does Noah’s exposure need to be shared? It certainly wasn’t for the benefit of Noah, who was safely asleep in the comfort, if not the privacy, of his own tent.

Why did Ham find it necessary to share with others the shame he witnessed? Why do we? How many “prayer requests” are nothing more than Christians in Ham’s clothing exposing the nakedness of their neighbor’s shame? Who was really being exposed in this scene – Noah or Ham? Continue Reading

No More False Positive Confessions

Posted by Jim Thornber on March 29, 2018
Posted in: Christian Spirituality, Religion, Scripture. Tagged: , , , , . Leave a comment

Whoever of you loves life and desires to see many good days, keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking lies” Psalm 34:12-13

I am now convinced that I did not become a proficient liar until I became a dedicated disciple of Christ.

Before I became a Christian, if someone asked me what I thought about a subject, I’d tell them. I may have lacked diplomacy and discretion, and I know I needed to work on my social graces, but I was honest with my opinion. Now I think about what I say in order not to offend someone. Quite often I weigh truth against kindness, and kindness tends to win.

In other words, I lie.

The other night my wife and I were having a conversation with a friend who is dealing with a great amount of stress in her job. Barbara said, “Feel free to come over any time and just talk.”

Since I’m a pastor, I encouraged her. “Our home is a safe place for you to come and unload. Feel free to be yourself. Be angry, frustrated and hurt. Say the bad words you want and know it’s okay.”

At this point she laughed and said, “I don’t think a pastor ever encouraged me to cuss before!”

I said, “If you’re thinking the bad words then God already knows it. You might as well just be honest about your feelings. God isn’t scared of your vocabulary.”

She said, “It is so hard to be honest. When people ask me how I’m doing I’ve become good at saying, ‘Fine. I’m good.’ Even when I’m not.”

At this point I said, “It’s amazing how we have to become Christians in order to become good liars.”

I hope someone will write and tell me the origin of the idea that Christians can’t be honest with how they’re feeling. If they’re feeling crappy (or worse), and someone asks them how they’re doing, they should feel free to say so. But that’s not what happens. We put on our good religious face, turn a stiff upper lip of faith into the wind, take a deep breath and spew our best positive confession. “I’m fine,” we say.

Liar.

Liar.

Liar.

Not too long ago I tried this technique on someone. You know, the honesty technique. If you’re expelling hot air in any church in America, it won’t be too long before someone asks you, “How are you doing?” When they did, I told them. Life was hard, I was crabby, and it wasn’t a very good day.

True to form, they said, “Well, brother, that isn’t a very positive confession.”

I said, “You can have a false positive confession or you can have honesty. Which do you prefer?”

The person stumbled out a response and walked away, and I figure I probably offended them with the truth. But here’s the thing: I’d rather offend people with the truth (especially those who don’t REALLY care how I’m doing), than lie to them in order to protect their feelings. And I learned something – I feel better about myself for being honest.

I think it is a good thing to be a follower of Christ and not be a liar. No more false positives for me. From now on, when you ask me how I’m doing, be prepared to hear the truth.

Jesus The Samaritan

Posted by Jim Thornber on March 6, 2018
Posted in: Christian Spirituality, Religion, Scripture. Tagged: , , , , , . Leave a comment

The [expert in religious law] wanted to justify his actions, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor” – Luke 10:29 (NLT)

 

Here I am, reading along and preparing for my Sunday sermon, feeling good about myself because I’m the pastor and a handful of people will get out of bed early and listen to me expound upon the Word of God, when it starts to occur to me I’m not as good as I like to think. In fact, sometimes I’m too religious for my own good, and it took a long-dead lawyer to get me to take a hard look at myself

In the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), a lawyer challenges Jesus with the question, “What should I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus replies, “How do you read it?” And the lawyer goes on to give the acceptable church answer: Love God with all you heart, soul, mind and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. “Great,” responds Jesus, “do it and live.”

The lawyer should have left well enough alone, but he goes on and tries to justify the way he treats others. Eugene Peterson says, “Looking for a loophole,” the lawyer asks, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus’ answer tells the lawyer he is asking the wrong question. We should not be concerned with writing a short list called, These Folks Are Acceptable Neighbors. Instead, we should ask the question, “What kind of neighbor am I?”

I’d like to think this parable gives the lawyer a tough time, and it does, but it is actually tougher on me than I like to admit. If I’m really honest, I’ll admit that I’m more like the lawyer than the Samaritan. I’m selfish enough to want to believe that loving my neighbor means loving people who love me. That loving my neighbor means doing nice things for people who will probably do nice things back. That visiting the sick means someone in the church will find out and tell others what a good pastor I am. That’s probably what the lawyer thought, too, and he felt pretty good about how he’d fulfilled that command.

But Jesus’ story about the Samaritan does to me the same thing Jesus intended it to do to the lawyer. It makes me uncomfortable, reaches up and smacks me in the head, and makes me admit my compassion can sometimes be very small and limited.

Then I saw that the life of Jesus is the true example of the Good Samaritan. Through His death and resurrection, Jesus covers our nakedness and binds up our wounds. He puts us in a place of safety, provides for our needs, and promises to return and take us to Himself. This parable is, in many ways, the essence of the Gospel message, spoken and lived by our Savior Jesus Christ.

I find it interesting that the lawyer quoted Lev. 19:18 when he said we should love our neighbor as our self. However, the Samaritan didn’t just quote the Scripture, but like Jesus, he fulfilled it. This parable shows us that we measure the love we have for God and ourselves by the way that we love others. The priest and Levite may have professed their love for God, but they didn’t really love themselves because they didn’t show love to their neighbor.

This is why Jesus finally turns back to the lawyer and says, “Now, which of these three would you say was a neighbor to the man who was attacked by bandits?” (vs. 36). The lawyer now sees his original question, “Who is my neighbor?” turned back on him by Jesus’ question. Because, as I said, the real issue is not, “Who is my neighbor?” but “Am I a good neighbor?” The lawyer says, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus says, “Yes, now go and do the same.”

Jesus the Good Samaritan is a good neighbor. He saw my wounded soul and gave me a place to rest. Now it is up to me to follow the words of Jesus to the lawyer when He said, “Now go and do the same.”

 

 

 

Jesus Does Not Need My Boat

Posted by Jim Thornber on December 22, 2017
Posted in: Christian Spirituality, Scripture. Tagged: , , , . Leave a comment

Matthew 14:25 says, “During the fourth watch of the night Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake.” This seems like a straightforward Scripture, but the part that challenges me is this: Jesus does not need my boat.

Our “boat” is anything we possess that enables us to do our job, fulfill our calling and arrive at our God-chosen destination. It could be our experiences, titles, education, salary, family connections or possessions. But Jesus, after making the disciples get into the boat and encounter a storm, walked across the water to be with them.

Jesus did not need their boat.

Too often we (which means, of course, primarily me!) assume that God has brought us to this certain place, endowed us with these certain gifts, allowed us to experience those particular things because He is going to use them for this particular purpose. But we deceive ourselves when we think we have the plans of God all figured out.

Jesus does not need our boat.

There was a time, of course, when Jesus chose to use our boat. In Luke 5:1-3, Jesus used Peter’s boat in order to teach the crowds that had gathered around Him. Afterward, Jesus instructed Peter to go back out and fish, even though they had fished all night and caught nothing. Their catch after obeying the Lord was so large it almost sank Peter’s boat (Luke 5:7).

Later in our walk with Jesus, He shows us He has other means of accomplishing the purposes of God for our life. He wants us to grow beyond the safety and security of our “known” talents and abilities. Jesus wants us to learn that just about the time we think we’ve got the methods and motives of God figured out, He purposely sends us into a storm so that He can scare the wits out of us by appearing in a form we least expect.

Sometimes the storm is a financial scare so He can appear in the form of our Provider. We thought we were providing everything for our family, but God reminds us that everything we have comes from Him (1 Chron. 29:14).

Other times we think it is our education or vocational connections that will land us that career we’ve always wanted, but then a call comes from someone we don’t know and we enter into a career we never imagined.

After four years of Bible College and two years of completing a Masters in Ministry, I’m finding that everything I thought I knew about being a pastor has brought me headlong into a storm that seems to be taking me further and further from the shore of church “ministry.” For some reason, I find that my life’s testimony is more effective on a construction site than in a church classroom, and unsaved men are changing their behavior because I walk into a room. However, I know it is not me they are responding to, but the Jesus within me.

Only now am I starting to realize that Jesus doesn’t need my boat—my education, teaching techniques, study habits, etc.—to lead me in His direction. And to tell you the truth, the vision I am now getting of God is scary, amazing, and unknowable all at the same time. I sometimes feel like I’m in the middle of a lake, pulling against the oars and drifting further and further from my goal. However, I know that one day I will arrive on the shore of His choosing, at the time of His appointing, to do the work of His anointing. We may not arrive there in my boat, but we will arrive there just the same.