Restless Heart Syndrome

We find that we are never satisfied with anything. The moment we acquire something, we scarcely take time to enjoy it before we want something else.

Wisdom and Finance

The idea of keeping up with the Joneses is very much alive today. It generally results in people living beyond their means.

Never Having Enough?

It’s been nearly ten years since I first wrote Enough: Discovering Joy Through Simplicity and Generosity. More than 150,000 readers have found this little book helpful as they have sought the Bible’s wisdom regarding prudent financial practices.

The Worst Thing Is Not the Last Thing

In advance of Easter Sunday, I’d like to share an additional selection from my new book Unafraid: Living with Courage and Hope in Uncertain Times. With Easter quickly approaching, it seems an especially appropriate time to reflect on mortality, the afterlife, and the idea of facing our greatest fears with hope, strength, and courage. The manuscript for Unafraid was completed last fall. Among the people who inspired me most in how he faced illness and the possibility of death, unafraid, was Rev. Allen Zugelter. We spoke on several occasions about facing death in the light of Easter. Allen passed a couple of months ago, but gave me permission to share his story in the book before he passed. I shared this passage at his graveside service last month. As a pastor, I’ve made hundreds of hospital calls and sat in the homes of hundreds of people facing frightening diagnoses. I’ve prayed with and cared for people battling cancer. Most survived; for others, their situations were terminal. I’ve been to visit the dying at our area hospice palliative care center. I’ve cared for a half-dozen people who faced lengthy battles with ALS. I’ve been moved and inspired by so many of these people, learning from them how they faced illness with courage and hope. I’d like to share one of their stories with you. Allen is thirty-eight and waging a battle with leukemia that he may not win. He’s hoping to be accepted for one final experimental trial that appears to be his last hope for medical treatment. Allen began his career as a lawyer and had a bright future ahead of him. That’s when I first met him and eventually became his pastor. Several years later, he began to feel a call to ordained ministry. His wife was supportive, and Allen went to seminary and eventually was ordained as a United Methodist pastor. He was serving a large congregation in a northern suburb of Kansas City when he received his diagnosis. Allen noted the three types of fear he’s dealt with: the fear of death, the fear of pain, and the fear for his family. He was afraid not only about the emotional impact his death would have on his parents and his wife, Ashley, but also about mundane things like how his wife would deal with their finances after his death. “There are so many things I can’t control,” he said, “but I have been able to work on an estate plan and sought to make things as easy as possible on Ashley in the event of my death.” His call several months ago asking me to preach his funeral was an example of his making preparations so that Ashley wouldn’t have to. He spoke with his doctors about his fear of pain; they assured him that they could effectively control it with the pain meds currently available. That was reassuring to him. But when it came to the fear of death, he told me that he simply did not feel afraid. “Years ago I came to accept that we are mortal creatures, that we are going to die,” he said. “We have no guarantees, Adam, as to how long we’ll live. Being human means we’re going to die. My faith has played a huge part in eliminating the fear of sickness and death. As you’ve taught us, and Frederick Buechner before you, because of Jesus Christ, the worst thing is not the last thing. My faith in him changed everything on this front. Because of his death and resurrection, I am not afraid to die.” This sounded an awfully lot like facing our fears with faith, and releasing our worries and cares to God. Allen told me that among the things that had brought him peace were prayer and meditation. “I have not set aside time to pray—my entire existence is becoming an ongo­ing prayer, a conversation and togetherness with God that has resulted in a peace that continues to grow.” Here’s the lesson I want you to take away from Allen’s story: You likely will have some fear if you are ever diagnosed with a serious illness, but that fear doesn’t need to control you. It is possible to face even the most frightening of illnesses with courage and hope. Allen was able to come to a place where he accepted his mortality, recognizing that none of us knows how long we’ll live. He gratefully accepted each day as a gift, and sought to live it as fully as he could. Allen controlled what he could control, and found it helpful to take action where possible. And, ultimately, he found peace in releasing his worry, fear, anxiety, and very existence to God. This is just a brief excerpt from Chapter Eighteen of my new book, Unafraid: Living with Courage and Hope in Uncertain Times. In the rest of the chapter I further explore the topic of approaching health-related anxieties with courage and hope. If you would like to learn more about Unafraid or the children, youth or adult small group study resources based upon it, please click here. (Scroll to the bottom of the page to view the downloadable resources and the promo videos for Unafraid.)  

The Picture of Death Defeated

In advance of Easter Sunday, I’d like to share a selection from my new book Unafraid: Living with Courage and Hope in Uncertain Times. With Easter quickly approaching, it seems especially appropriate that we reflect on the resurrection and the afterlife, and the idea of facing our greatest fears with hope, strength, and courage. Please stay tuned for more updates about Unafraid! Christianity proclaims that God’s response to our fear of death is the death and resurrection of Christ. Through his death and resurrection, Jesus conquered death. His resurrection leads us to say that evil, illness, sin, and death will never have the final word. There is always hope. The Easter following Muhammad Ali’s death, I was trying to give my congregation a picture or analogy of how Easter conveys the idea of a powerful victory over death itself. I reminded them of Ali’s epic fight with Sonny Liston on May 25, 1965. It was a rematch, following Ali’s surprise defeat of the former heavyweight champion the year before. Many people had dismissed Ali’s first victory over Liston as a fluke. But in the first round of this rematch, the twenty-three-year-old Ali knocked Liston down for the count. Perhaps you’ve seen the iconic photograph of Ali standing over Liston shouting, “Get up and fight, sucker!” That’s the image I have in my mind of Christ’s defeat of death itself at Easter. His resurrection gives us hope that hatred, evil, illness, sin, and death will never have the final word. There is always hope, not only in this life but also in the next. It was C. S. Lewis who once said that what we believe about death and the afterlife fundamentally changes how we live this life. If I believe that the Gospel writers and the apostles were telling the truth, and that Jesus died and rose again (as astounding as that may seem), and if I trust the words of Jesus himself about death and the afterlife, then I can face all of life, including every fear I describe in Unafraid, with courage and hope. Now, for some, a belief in the resurrection and eternal life leads to indifference about what happens on earth. I’ve heard some Christians speak as though they don’t have to care about the suffering of others, for if those in extreme poverty die, they “get to go to heaven.” I once heard a woman say that she didn’t worry about the environment or any other temporal concerns because “this world is not my home.” This is a gross misreading of the Gospels. It was Jesus who called us to care for the hungry, the thirsting, the naked, the sick, the immigrant, and the prisoner. And it was he who said that if we’ve been indifferent to the needs of our fellow human beings in this life, we’ll have no part with him in the next one. Again, Jesus’s focus was not on heaven—it was on how we live here on earth. The promise of life beyond death shouldn’t make us indifferent to the suffering of others; rather, it should lead us to great courage and risk-taking in addressing the pain and anguish in this world. This is just a brief excerpt from Chapter Nineteen of my new book, Unafraid: Living with Courage and Hope in Uncertain Times. In the rest of the chapter, I consider how we can live life well, knowing that death could come at any time, and how we can face each day without fear, but instead with courage and hope. If you would like to learn more about Unafraid or the children, youth or adult small group study resources based upon it, please click here. (Scroll to the bottom of the page to view the downloadable resources and the promo videos for Unafraid.)

The Coming of the Wise Men

During these weeks leading up to Advent, I’ve been sharing excerpts from my latest book, Faithful: Christmas Through the Eyes of Joseph. This week, I conclude with highlights from Chapter Five, “The Rest of the Story.” Click here to read my last post from Chapter Four.  I love the story of the Magi – the wise men who came from the east – in Matthew’s telling of the Christmas story.  Among other things, Matthew may have been wanting us to see that Jesus was not simply the Jewish Messiah but the world’s savior and king. Most likely, the Magi came from Persia. By the way, magi is the root of our word “magician.” These magi probably were not magicians in the way we think of that term. They were likely part of the priestly class within the Zoroastrian religion—respected court advisors, scholars, sages, devout believers in God, and scientists of a sort. They studied the stars and looked to them for signs of God’s plans and world events. They were astrologers in a time when astrologers were not simply creators of horoscopes but students of the stars. Zoroastrianism originated in Persia (modern-day Iran) possibly in the late seventh or the early sixth century before Christ. The prophet Zoroaster was to Zoroastrianism what Moses was to Judaism. Both religions shared a belief in one good and all-powerful God, in a host of other theological ideas, and in common ethical imperatives. Yet they were as different from one another as, say, Judaism is from Islam.  This is why I find the visit of the Magi so remarkable. According to Matthew, God chose to invite a group of foreigners, priests of a different religion, to share in the joy of Jesus’ birth. And God used them to provide what would prove to be much-needed help for the Holy Family as they would soon be forced to flee Herod’s murderous paranoia, as refugees to Egypt. In response to their sighting of the star and their deduction that a king of the Jews had been born, these wise men traveled twelve hundred miles across the ancient highways from Persia to Judea in order to see the child, bring him gifts, and pay him homage. Imagine what Joseph must have been thinking when an entourage of court officials and priests from the far east showed up at his door. What must have been going through his mind as he watched the wise men, one by one, open their extravagant gifts and bow before Joseph’s infant son, hailing him as the one “born king of the Jews”? Right here at the beginning of the gospel story, we find God doing something that really messes with our theology—he reaches out to, and uses, people of other faiths to accomplish his purposes. I wonder if part of this story’s lesson is to teach us to treat those of other faiths the way God honored the Magi or the way the Zoroastrian priests did Joseph and Mary as they brought their gifts to the newborn King. God’s perspective on those who are not of our “tribe” may just be different from our own, and learning these lessons might be key to experiencing the “peace on earth” proclaimed by the angels in the Christmas story. Click here to find more information about all Faithful products, including the primary book, a DVD, a Leader Guide, a Children's Leader Guide, and a Youth Study book.

The Journey to Bethlehem

During the next few weeks on the blog, I’ll be sharing excerpts from my latest book, Faithful: Christmas Through the Eyes of Joseph. I hope you’ll be encouraged to consider studying Joseph’s story for your Advent devotions this year. This week, I share highlights from Chapter Four, “The Journey to Bethlehem.” Click here to read last week’s post from Chapter Three.    The journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem surely was uncomfortable, unpleasant, and frightening for Mary and Joseph. In Mary’s time, women died in childbirth with a frequency that led to an average life expectancy of only thirty-five. The trip Joseph and Mary were making was filled with frightening possibilities. They set out for Bethlehem reminded once more that they were living under Roman occupation. I suspect Mary left in tears, saying goodbye to her family and hometown at the moment she needed them the most. This was a journey that neither Mary nor Joseph wanted to take. It was forced upon them. The situation that Mary and Joseph faced is emblematic of what often happens in life. At times, all of us find ourselves on journeys we don’t want to take. Sometimes, as with Mary and Joseph, the journeys happen because of someone else’s decisions or actions (in this case, it was the emperor). The journeys may be painful, and we may find ourselves brokenhearted or deeply discouraged along the way. We might even think that God is punishing us or has abandoned us. But God promises to sustain us, even though we may walk through the darkest valleys. God tells us to turn our burdens over to him, and he can make something beautiful of them. Throughout Scripture we see journeys that people don’t want to take, and much of the Bible is about God using and working through those journeys. There’s Noah on his ark, and Abraham and Sarah uprooted in retirement and sent by God to the Promised Land. There’s Ruth and Naomi grieving the loss of their husbands, and Daniel thrown into the lions’ den. Most of the really remarkable people I have met, people who are having an impact on the world, have been on journeys they didn’t want to take. Have you ever been forced on a journey you didn’t want to take? It may have been your parents’ divorce, or your own. Maybe it was an illness or a move or the loss of a job. Maybe it was the death of someone you loved dearly. I’m not suggesting that God caused these things to happen or that they were God’s will. They are simply part of life. But God goes with you on these journeys, and God’s providence has a way of bringing good and beautiful things from the pain, heartache, and disappointments we face in life. That’s what Mary and Joseph discovered. Did you know that nearly half of Luke’s Gospel is devoted to telling the story of Jesus’ final journey to Jerusalem, where he would be crucified? Where did Jesus learn to walk the journeys he did not want to take, trusting that God was with him? Perhaps it was from hearing Joseph talk about the difficult journey he and Mary took in faith and about what God brought forth from it. Just as Joseph had known somehow that God was with him, Jesus on his final journey knew somehow that God would redeem his suffering and use it to transform the world. All of us go on journeys we don’t want to take. In the midst of them, if we open ourselves to God, we can see God’s hand leading us. When you find yourself on an unplanned and difficult journey, recall these words from the prophet Isaiah, who was writing to encourage the Jewish people during their own difficult journey in exile: The Lord is the everlasting God, the creator of the ends of the earth. He doesn’t grow tired or weary. His understanding is beyond human reach, giving power to the tired
and reviving the exhausted. Youths will become tired and weary, young men will certainly stumble; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength; they will fly up on wings like eagles; they will run and not be tired; they will walk and not be weary. (Isaiah 40:28-31) I don’t know what journeys you’ve been on that you did not want to take, or what journey you may be on now. I know that God walks with you. I know that God will strengthen you. I know that God redeems life’s painful journeys. Click here to find more information about all Faithful products, including the primary book, a DVD, a Leader Guide, a Children's Leader Guide, and a Youth Study book.    

Don't Be Afraid

During the next few weeks on the blog, I’ll be sharing excerpts from my latest book, Faithful: Christmas Through the Eyes of Joseph. I hope you’ll be encouraged to consider studying Joseph’s story for your Advent devotions this year. This week, I share highlights from Chapter Three, “Raising a Child Not Your Own.” Click here to read my last post from Chapter Two.    This week’s post begins with an angel coming to Joseph in a dream. The angel told him: “Joseph son of David, don’t be afraid to take Mary as your wife, because the child she carries was conceived by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you will call him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” (Matthew 1:20-21) I find it interesting that, after calling Joseph’s name, the first words the angel speaks to Joseph are “Don’t be afraid.” Imagine that as a conversation starter! I think about the times when I’m talking with my wife, LaVon, and the first thing I tell her is, “Don’t be mad, but. . . .” It’s a cue that whatever I tell her next will give her good reason to be mad. Joseph probably got that same feeling of apprehension when the angel began with “Don’t be afraid.” When God calls you to do something and the opening words are “Don’t be afraid,” you likely should be afraid! Whatever follows is sure to be outside your comfort zone. It may be a call filled with challenge and risk. In fact, sometimes God will call us to do the thing we absolutely do not want to do. I’ve never seen an angel in a dream, but other kinds of angels have occasionally called me to do things I really didn’t want to do. Nancy Brown is one of those angels. She is a dynamo of a woman, twenty-three years my senior, who nearly broke my arm twisting it. Nancy told me that I needed to go with her to Africa to see what God was doing through the Methodist churches there. She hoped that if I saw it with my own eyes, I’d be as moved as she was and would come back to the States willing to do all I could to support God’s work in Malawi, Zambia, and South Africa. I’m not sure I was afraid, but I certainly dreaded the twenty-two hours of airplane rides and four hours of bus rides to reach a place I’d never been before, meeting people I’d never met and eating food I’d never eaten. But by the time we had finished, after seeing what could be done in partnership and hearing an invitation to serve with our new friends, I came back to the United States deeply inspired. I’ve had the satisfaction of returning to Africa several times since. The angels that call me to do things I don’t want to do, things that I may dread, things that I end up doing joyfully—those angels usually look a lot like Nancy Brown and others in the congregation I serve. Why did the angel tell Joseph not to be afraid? It wasn’t that Joseph might fear the angel itself. The message really was this: “Don’t be afraid of this mission to take Mary as your wife and to raise this child as your own.” The challenge of doing so must have made this humble carpenter anxious or fearful. He was being given a mission to wed Mary and to trust that the child was of God and not of another man. But more than that, Joseph was being presented with a mission of raising this child who “will save his people from their sins.” Don’t be afraid, Joseph. God’s saving plans for the world are being entrusted to your care! “Don’t be afraid” is one of the most often recorded statements by God in the Bible. That God so frequently has to tell us not to be afraid is, once again, a reminder that God’s calling is not for the faint of heart. God called Moses back to Egypt to confront Pharaoh and demand that he release the Israelite slaves. You may recall the reaction of Moses, who was eighty years old at the time. He said, basically, “Are you kidding me?” (His actual words were “Please send someone else!”) We are a bit like Moses. It’s our nature to make excuses and raise objections when called to do something we don’t want to do. But what God called Moses to wasn’t just any task; it was saving an entire nation. Likewise, what God asked of Joseph was no ordinary or small thing: he was to raise, protect, and nurture God’s son, so that the Messiah could grow up and save his people. It was as if the entirety of Moses’ life, and Joseph’s, had been preparing them for this moment, when God would call them to play a key part in God’s saving story. Yes, it was scary. It was downright terrifying. And yet it was a mission that would change the world. Have you ever felt God calling you to do something that scared you just a little bit? If not, perhaps you haven’t been paying attention. If you have heard God’s call and responded with a leap of faith that took you beyond your comfort zone, then you’ve probably discovered something important: Trusting God despite our fears, saying yes to God’s call even when we feel like saying no, ultimately brings us joy. It’s the kind of joy we celebrate on Joy Sunday in Advent. I know a woman whose initial reaction to anything uncomfortable or unnerving is to say no. It’s a kind of default response that comes from fear. She tends to see all the things that could go wrong, or all the ways she isn’t equipped or the right person for the job. One thing I admire about her, though, is that her initial response is usually not her final response. The Holy Spirit continues to work on her, and eventually her fear gives way to faith, her no becomes a yes, and God uses her to do amazing things. We all have a thousand excellent excuses to avoid what God is calling us to do, but it’s in saying yes that life’s adventures are found! Click here to find more information about all Faithful products, including the primary book, a DVD, a Leader Guide, a Children's Leader Guide, and a Youth Study book.