“Most people are bothered by those passages of Scripture they do not understand, but the passages that bother me are those I do understand.” — Mark Twain
The Look of Joy
Always be full of joy in the. I say it again—rejoice! Let everyone see that you are considerate in all you do (Philippians 4:4-5 NLT).
Last Wednesday, Barbara and I were co-teaching the book of James to a small group. After spending an hour talking about the book, we barely finished James 1:2, which tells us to consider it an opportunity for great joy when troubles come our way. Doesn’t that sound easy and fun?
While Barbara led the group discussion around the question, “What does joy look like?” I meandered over to Philippians 4. I knew it had some good stuff to say about joy, so I found the above passage I wanted and read it to the group. And as soon as I did, I knew it was going to bother me.
Although Paul wrote to the Philippians from prison, he still finds a way to be joyful. I didn’t say he was enjoying his stay in prison, but that he chose joy as his attitude. So far, so good. Paul is a better man than I am, but that is not what struck me. What struck me is what I call “The Look of Joy.” We’ll often ask what love looks like, and there is even a song called, “The Look of Love.” But what about joy? Barbara asked, “What does joy look like?” According to Philippians 4:5, joy looks like “consideration.”
That is when I got bothered. Continue Reading
A few years ago, a church I attended in Arkansas hosted a Thanksgiving service, which served to raise money for the ministerial alliance. The alliance asked our church to lead in the praise and worship, and I played the piano on the worship team. Looking over the congregation, I noted a pastor from another church who, no matter what we sang, refused to either clap his hands or raise them in worship. He simply sat in his pew with his arms folded. That struck me as strange, because outside of church he was a happy, vivacious, demonstrative man.
I like the honesty of King David. Up until verse sixteen of Psalm 139, David is contemplating ways he could hide from God. (I’ve done that – I just don’t readily admit it.)
I’ve been around Christians and Christianity for thirty-five years now. I’ve been associated with Baptist, Pentecostal, Catholic and non-denominational organizations and churches. I’ve seen mysterious, authentic movements of God’s Spirit that have transformed people’s lives, and had conversations with pseudo-religious nuts who proclaimed they were the only ones who held true to “The One True Faith.” It’s been a wild ride.
Perhaps the best-known passage that shows us the servant heart of Jesus is John 13, where we see our Lord and Savior, the creator through whom God made the universe, washing feet.
Look at that picture. Yep, that’s me. “Pastor” Jim Thornber. Even though I see the title, I truly do not comprehend the immensity of it all.
Blaise Pascal said, “We must learn our limits. We are all something, but none of us are everything.” Or, as that wise 20th century philosopher Harry Callahan (Clint Eastwood) said in the movie Magnum Force, “A man’s got to know his limitations.”
I had an interesting conversation this summer with a man at a church picnic. Because I had never met him, at first glance I thought he was going through chemotherapy. He wore a knit cap in ninety-degree weather, had no hair on his arms, legs or face, and had penciled in his eyebrows. Only after I sat across from him at lunch did I understand the situation.
For many people, the Christmas (or Chanukah) season is their favorite time of year. The time spent with family, the abundance of favorite foods, and of course the opening of gifts all make this holiday special.
I did not get up this morning intending to write. All I really wanted to do was check my e-mail and a few sports scores, and then settle down and read some nice, comfortable, soothing, spiritually uplifting and self-esteeming Scripture. Why I chose Isaiah is beyond my understanding.
Thinking Out Loud 