Real Life Matters

We’re all lawbreakers. So how should a bunch of lawbreakers treat each other? We know we’re supposed to delineate between right and wrong. But we can never forget just how level the playing field is. James warns us: “Judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment!” (James 2:13) This is a hard word for hardliners.

Real mercy—the kind Jesus says we’re supposed to “learn”—is helping each other UP. Are you helping up or pushing down?

I was running late on my way to a funeral. I was tooling down the Interstate totally stressed, totally late. A State Trooper took interest in my vehicle and stepped out into the lane and flagged me over. I was busted, stressed, and totally flipping out. He said, “You were doing 85 in a 55. Where are you going?” Black suit and all, I replied, “Officer, I’m sorry. I’m a pastor on my way to do a funeral, and I’m late.” I saw that he could see the Bible on the passenger’s seat. So he said, “Given the circumstances, I’m going to show mercy; next time, leave your house earlier.” I was so grateful. I did the speed limit all the way to the funeral home. The mercy the cop showed me made me want to obey the law. That’s the lesson. When the woman caught in adultery was shown mercy, Jesus could say “Go and sin no more” knowing that her heart of gratitude would learn from mercy more than it would ever learn from trap-setting legalism. The best way we can hold each other accountable is to show mercy.

Now, contrast the merciful State Trooper with an unmerciful red light camera. About a year ago, I was tooling along failing to memorize which intersections had those nice little legalistic cameras installed. As I went through what I saw to be an “orange” light, I noticed a flash go off on that warm dusk evening.

I can’t justify speeding or running lights. It’s the law. But in the one instance, a human heart saw a difficult circumstance and made a call using the rule of mercy. The inhuman red light camera, however, ruled purely on the basis of law. I’m not here to say which is better for our law-breaking society, but I think I can say which is better for the church. The heart of mercy trumps legalism. Which should we more reflect? The State Trooper, or the Red Light Camera?

I’ve been around red-light-camera-Christians long enough to know that their hard-line religious legalism never leads people UP. Now granted, the red light camera system does work. But it’s superficial. I bet fewer people run lights in my town of Columbia—at least at the intersections with the cameras. And those that do run them may even pose for the camera by flipping the bird. Mercy is better than law because it makes reasonable people want to obey; but merciless religion leads to loopholes and superficial behavioral modification. Choose mercy.

Colts Quarterback Peyton Manning said he had never seen so many middle fingers in his life. What caused such a middle-digital display? The Colts drove their bus into Baltimore.

I remember it well. I had my official Ravens Bart Scott jersey on (I especially love it because my last name is Scott). My wife Lisa even bought “football food.” This was a very special Saturday. We were purple with pride. This would be the ultimate irony, the perfect storm, the payback of the ages.

But here’s where things get goofy: This middle-finger vendetta is—get this—23 years old. That’s right, 23. You can’t even count that high on all your fingers and toes.

But bitterness never runs out of fingers and toes.

See, decades-plus ago, then Colts owner Robert Irsay, wanted Baltimore to upgrade its stadium. But with attendance dwindling and the team playing crapily, city officials were wary of stadium spending. Relations between Irsay and the city worsened, and Irsay began to look at other cities.

So the Colts galloped off to Indy. Robert Irsay eventually died and his son Jim became the beneficiary of the once-legendary once-Baltimore team.

I know some people don’t like this, but I’m rooting for the Colts this Superbowl. If they win, it’s just a game; if they lose, it’s just a game. Whatever the outcome, I think the lesson is this: The middle fingers, not the Ravens, lost in ’07 because grudges never win in the end. Go Colts!

Colts Quarterback Peyton Manning said he had never seen so many middle fingers in his life. What caused such a middle-digital display? The Colts drove their bus into Baltimore.

I remember it well. I had my official Ravens Bart Scott jersey on (I especially love it because my last name is Scott). My wife Lisa even bought “football food.” This was a very special Saturday. We were purple with pride. This would be the ultimate irony, the perfect storm, the payback of the ages.

But here’s where things get goofy: This middle-finger vendetta is—get this—23 years old. That’s right, 23. You can’t even count that high on all your fingers and toes.

But bitterness never runs out of fingers and toes.

See, decades-plus ago, then Colts owner Robert Irsay, wanted Baltimore to upgrade its stadium. But with attendance dwindling and the team playing crapily, city officials were wary of stadium spending. Relations between Irsay and the city worsened, and Irsay began to look at other cities.

So the Colts galloped off to Indy. Robert Irsay eventually died and his son Jim became the beneficiary of the once-legendary once-Baltimore team.

I know some people don’t like this, but I’m rooting for the Colts this Superbowl. If they win, it’s just a game; if they lose, it’s just a game. Whatever the outcome, I think the lesson is this: The middle fingers, not the Ravens, lost in ’07 because grudges never win in the end. Go Colts!

I love to scan the FM dial, and there are, I think, three Classic Rock stations in a row here in Baltimore. So I remember hearing an old Fleetwood Mac song and I had a “flashback.” There I suddenly was, kicking the dirt off my cleats and yet, simultaneously at Skate Land during Couples Skate with an old short-lived girlfriend who, thank God, dumped me, because the girl I eventually married is much hotter, in every way.

So this 1 Peter passage gave me a flashback, and I’ll never forget the first time I read it. The words, “…as if something strange were happening to you…” stuck with me. It was 17 years ago, on the ride of my life, age 26. I had a smile plastered on my face, probably because I was usually plastered. I was living my dreams…

Until those dreams began to change.

Something strange was happening to me.

Why was I thinking about God so much? It wasn’t like I wanted to think about God. In fact, there were many times when I wished the thoughts would just go away. It was inconvenient. And besides, it was weird. What were these rumors of another world?

Right around that time, a person gave me a Bible. I smiled and said, “Thaaanks…” Inside the front cover she wrote Mark 8:36: “What does it profit a person to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?”

It was like God was tearing me away from one life and showing me another. And I liked it and I hated it. On the one hand, it had the ring of truth to it; on the other hand, it sounded too good to be true. On the one hand, Christ looked so good; on the other hand, Christians looked so bad. On the one hand, this stuff sounded totally plausible; on the other hand, totally out there. On the one hand it sounded so silly; on the other hand it sounded so deep, spiritual, and transcendent.

And that passage of Scripture kept looping, creeping, stalking. Something strange was happening to me. My dreams were changing. My paradigm was changing. My desires were changing. My interests were changing. My life was changing.

Do you have a strange story like this? How does your story read?

I have to admit, I visit my local drive-thru of the iconic golden arches from time to time. The magnet is just too winsome. Honestly, who can deny the convenience? Who can resist the speed? Who can just say no to the low cost of a quickie dollar-menu double cheeseburger? Gosh and the fat. Can’t you just taste it? Who has the power to reject the siren’s song of that scrumptious artery-clogging American delicacy? Yum, yum, yummy.

The AP reports: “The U.S. sales increase was driven by more customers coming in for breakfast and late-night meals.” Maybe they’re like bookends for some Americans: breakfast and late night meals; but here I think we’re really talking about two different consumer crowds. One hurried, the other intoxicated. One fast food company is even marketing the “fourth meal” (code: the late night “I must be drunk” meal). But breakfast at Micky-dees makes perfect sense. I’m late. I’m in a hurry. It beats cooking. It beats shopping. It beats fruit. Hook me up with a “meal” – One sausage egg and cheese biscuit, please, complete with the deep-fried hash brown and, because I’m so health-conscious, a small orange juice. (My darkest secret is that in my most unguarded moments, I will opt for the small Coke over the OJ or coffee because I think stocks rising in McDonalds must have something to do with the syrup-rich Cokes.)

The AP continues: “Strong results in France and Germany helped same-store sales rise 8.4 percent over a year earlier.” This is great. People who generally hate America love our sorry-but-irresistible food. I think deep down inside, they really do love us after all. Maybe they’re just jealous. Or maybe it just has to do with who the president is at the time.

I’m not surprised at the news of McDonald’s on the rise. It’s short-term ease, it’s cheap, it’s fat, and after all, the kids love it (PLEASE! It’s for the children…). But is it wise? In my deeper moments, I must confess, I think Jared may be right. We may do well to consider the facts behind our choices, even if some Subway choices aren’t any better. Eating better is hard work. It’s inconvenient, it’s more expensive, it’s a hassle, and the kids don’t always like it. But if stock went up in healthier foods I’d find that better news and a happier trend in a culture where heart disease is public enemy number one.

If you walk into my office and turn hard to the right, you’ll see some pictures on my bookshelves. One of those pictures shows me with someone you likely wouldn’t have recognized until recently.

Oh, there it is: a picture of me arm and arm with the then relatively under-known President of the 30-million-member National Association of Evangelicals, and Senior Pastor of a 15,000-member church in Colorado. We were both smiling, brimmingly.

Now if you follow the news, you know who I was arm and arm with: None other than the now-famous/infamous Ted Haggard.

I’m not gay.

But I do love Ted Haggard. When news broke of his sexual misconduct exposed through a politically-motivated male prostitute, I was crushed, and yet I must admit, one of my first personal Pharisaical questions was: Should I take the picture off my bookshelf? Was Ted still worthy to consume valuable real estate on my bookshelf? Sure, it was never a question before. But now?

Then I thought about my arm — you know the wholesome one — around Ted there in the picture. Is even my arm any more “wholesome” than Ted’s, or Ted’s accusers’, or George Bush’s or Bill Clinton’s or Billy Graham’s? Does anyone, anywhere, have truly wholesome arms? Or hands? Or brain? Or heart?

Here’s what I see here: (1) You likely will get more “famous” for the bad you do than for the good you do; and, (2) way down deep, you really aren’t any better than Ted.

So, for now, my picture with Ted stays. Unless you can offer any really compelling reason it shouldn’t. I think it deserves real estate on my precious bookshelf—as a monument to grace, mercy, and compassion for people with arms different than mine, but not unlike mine.

For all my attempts at imitating Jesus, I am still a sinner in need of the God of James, who declares: “Mercy triumphs over judgment.” Is this your attitude? Or are your arms, hands, brain, heart, any better than Ted’s?

The Scriptures teach us that knowledge has the potential to puff us up. But wisdom has the opposite affect—it makes us humble. Knowledge puffs; wisdom un-puffs. Which means it’s often wiser to admit you’re wrong. Ever been in an argument and eventually realized you were wrong, but instead of admitting it, you tried to explain how your wrongness was right? There’s a better way. James 3:17 gives us eight ways to know whether or not we’re being wise.

1. The wisdom that comes from heaven is… pure. Do I need to spin, tweak, force, or fudge in order to make a decision work? Then maybe it’s not pure; maybe it’s not really wise.

2. The wisdom that comes from heaven is… peace-loving. God’s wisdom leads to unity and peace. Does the decision I’m considering promote peace? Then it’s wise.

3. The wisdom that comes from heaven is… considerate. To think God-wise is to think others-wise. It’s the wisdom of God to put others before you, and to esteem others as more important than yourself.

4. The wisdom that comes from heaven is… submissive. God’s wisdom makes us easy to live with and work with. The submissive person is willing to hear all sides of a question. He can disagree without being disagreeable. She is “swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger” (James 1:19). Many people think that stubbornness is conviction and strength. But when God’s wisdom is at work there is a willingness to listen, think, pray, and obey whatever God reveals. “Yielding to persuasion” is another way to define wise submission.

5. The wisdom that comes from heaven is… full of mercy. To be “full” of something means to be “controlled by it.” The person who follows God’s wisdom is controlled by mercy. Does judgment control your thinking, or mercy?

6. The wisdom that comes from heaven… bears good fruit. It’s easy to argue and debate. But God’s wisdom is practical; it produces good works. When God’s wisdom is real in us, we won’t just debate; we’ll do good.

7. The wisdom that comes from heaven is… impartial. There will be no prejudice in the pews when God’s wisdom is in operation. Rich, poor, male, female, black, white, Republican, Democrat, Palestinian, Jew, are all one when in Christ.

8. The wisdom that comes from heaven is… sincere. When God’s wisdom is at work, there is openness and honesty. Pretending is unwise. While transparency often means vulnerability, it’s the wiser option.

So, are you wise? Put your daily decisions to these 8 tests and you’ll be much wiser for it.

Mark

For Part One, click the blog link on the right.

There are three words that can accurately be translated “hell” in the Bible. A really good translation, like the New American Standard Bible shows hell mentioned 13 times. The 1611 King James Version has 54 mentions of hell, but inaccurately renders the word Sheol as hell a full 31 times. This is inaccurate because Sheol is word that simply means “the place of the dead” or “the grave”—it is not hell in the sense that Jesus described it.

The three New Testament words accurately translated hell are, Hades, Tartaroo, and Gehenna. Hades is word associated with anguish; thought of as “infernal regions”—a dismal place for the wicked dead. Tartaroo was thought of by the ancient Greeks as the deepest abyss of Hades. It carries the idea of a subterranean region, doleful and dark; again, a place for the wicked dead. Tartaroo is used just once in 2 Peter 2:4.

Then there’s Gehenna. It comes from a Hebrew phrase “the valley of Hinnon.” Gehenna is a literal place that still sits outside of Jerusalem today. But people aren’t being tormented there. So we deduce that Gehenna was an illustration. Back then, Gehenna was a dump where the city’s waste and rotting corpses were burned by fire and eaten by worms; hence, the frightfully picturesque words of Jesus, “Where their worm does not die and their fire is not quenched.” Gehenna was a necessary place to visit, kind of like your local county dump today, but no one really wants to live there long. Jesus, the master teacher, used a picture to tell us that we really don’t want to go to hell.

So we discover that non-literal language is used to describe hell. But non-literal doesn’t mean non-real. Whether hell is a literal “place” or some state of existence, who can be a 100% sure? But I think we should consider this: If it’s real, then it’s really bad, and you’ll not want to end up there.

We’ll talk about this more in the next hellish post. Stay tuned. Muwa ha ha ha

Mark

Mark 9:43-48: If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life maimed than with two hands to go into hell, where the fire never goes out where ‘Their worm does not die, And the fire is not quenched.’  And if your foot causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life crippled than to have two feet and be thrown into hell where ‘Their worm does not die, And the fire is not quenched.’ And if your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into hell, where ‘their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched.’”

We once were having a little family time around the breakfast table. I read this bit about cutting off your hand and said, “Kids, my hand caused me to sin this morning; honey, get the cleaver.” Lisa promptly went to the cutlery and got a huge knife. I took it and wielded it above my wrist as the kids eyes grew larger. I quickly put the knife down and asked, “Is Jesus saying that we should literally cut off our hands?” They all furiously shook their heads and unanimously and simultaneously said no. “Then what was Jesus teaching us here?” Rachel replied, “To just stop it.” I like that. Simple, childlike, and true. “Did any of you think I was really going to chop off my hand?” Not really, they said.

Hell is always interesting. So I’d like to challenge our thinking on popular opinions outside the church and pop-theology within.

I’m always amused at how people who are so literal about things like hell refuse to be literal about cutting off their hands. This is the problem with thoughtless pop-theology—we can’t have it both ways. We need to think more deeply about this stuff. In Mark 9, Jesus compared hell to an “unquenchable fire.” Yet he also used the metaphor of “outer darkness” in Matthew 8:12. These mixed metaphors remind us to be careful about being dogmatic about what hell “literally” is. People sometimes say, “Do you believe in a literal hell?” My question is, “What do you mean by a literal hell? And what do you think it literally is?” See, if hell is literal fire, then it can’t be literal darkness, because fire, hello, creates light.

So if the word fire isn’t literal, then could it be a metaphor that means “never ending, unfulfilled burning, as in unfulfilled yearning or passion”? And if the word darkness isn’t literal, then could it be a metaphor that means “never seeing or relating, but utter isolation from God and people—an ultimate hell for us who seem created to be relational”? This would make “wailing, and gnashing of teeth” appropriate. 

We’ll gather more clues in this doleful dark discussion in Part 2, coming soon. Insert evil laugh here… Muwa ha ha ha.  

Mark

Dear Pastor,

Is it true that you will be held accountable for your sins on judgment day? This is confusing to me because the bible tells us are sins are forgiven (in the Greek - past, present, future), they are no more. But, the bible also tells us we will give an account of our sins. Matthew 12:36-37 says: “But I tell you that men will have to give account on the day of judgment for every careless word they have spoken. For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned.”

–Mary Ann   

Mary Ann, 

About our words: Jesus teaches us that the words we speak expose the true condition of our hearts (Matt. 12:34-37). So I ask myself: Are my words filled with love, grace, compassion and encouragement, or gossip, suspicion, aspersion, negativity, or cynicism? How do I feel when the condition of my heart is revealed? What actions should I consider? Are there some words that are gone yet retrievable, through asking my neighbor for forgiveness? Could it be that while harmful words will judged, healing words will also be judged, but credited to my account, so to speak?

About our attitudes (James 2:13): “Because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment!” James contrasted two attitudes: showing mercy, and judging without mercy. If we are merciful toward others, God can be merciful toward us. It’s that simple. It’s like when Jesus said, “Forgive and you’ll be forgiven; refuse to forgive and you won’t be forgiven.” We read passages like these and the first thing many of us do is look for ways that this can’t be true. It sounds like works. What happened to the idea that believing the right things will get us into heaven? But this is what Jesus said.

So in like fashion, James says, “If we are merciful toward others, God can be merciful toward us.” It seems to me that the best way to understand this is that if we’re critical and condemning, it’s apparent that we don’t understand mercy. People who really understand and receive mercy tend to extend mercy. Those who only understand critical judgment are self-condemned already. They should turn toward mercy because mercy triumphs over judgment!    

Mercy and justice both come from God, so they are not competitors. Perhaps we could think of it this way: Where God finds the true worshipper who loves God and man, and seeks blessing and ministry for the poor, needy and oppressed, (as in the case of the Good Samaritan) there, God is able to show mercy. Where God finds the person who refuses grace and winks at injustice and turns the other way in times of need—there God issues true justice to the unjust.
Learning Mercy,
Mark  

Last week, I spoke to a friend who was totally stunned to find out he’d been laid off. All those years, gone. Talking on the phone, I very simply said, “Joe, God is your Father.” As the words were coming out of my mouth, I had this overwhelming sense that it was actually true, and that God was my Father too, and that God was in my office with me at that very moment. I was totally overwhelmed by a most simplistic statement - what some might call “milk” - a most elementary truth of my faith: That God is my Father. Why is this still so stunning to me after 17 years in the faith?

I think this is something of what Jesus meant when he spoke of becoming like a little child. I know I’m growing as a disciple when the simplest things become the most profound. I know I’m growing as a disciple when I don’t need to hear something new all the time. I know I’m growing as a disciple when the old information - the simple gospel - is always fresher still.

Theologian Karl Barth (pronounced Bart) was one of the most complex intellectuals of the twentieth century. He was the most influential Reformed theologian since John Calvin. Even one Pope described him as the most important theologian since Thomas Aquinas. Barth is perhaps most famous for his thirteen-volume work entitled Church Dogmatics. It took him almost 40 years to write and he wrote it right up until his death in 1968. It contains 6 million words. A reporter asked Dr. Barth if he could summarize those 6 million words. Dr. Barth thought for a moment and then said: “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”

I was at a Pastors Conference one year in Nashville and they had set up this Prayer Room. There were different stations designed to help us focus. For instance, in one corner there was a small table and a chair with a vase of lilies and a sign that said, “Consider these lilies.” In another corner there was a closet with an open door and inside it looked like the decor you might find in a Bedouin tent and a single solitary chair. A sign simply invited you to sit on the floor in front of that chair and talk to Jesus who was, for most of us, actually sitting in that chair. I remember telling Jesus about all the sin in my life at that time and sensing that he wasn’t surprised at all, and that He loved me more than I could ever know - no matter what. Maybe that’s why I’m still stunned. I hope the simple things like this never get old.

Mark

Have you ever stopped to think of how the local church exists? The economy of “spiritual community” is fueled the same way as it’s always been: through the sacrificial giving of God’s people. But the economy goes both ways. We learn that when we give, we are actually learning the mystery of sacrifice, and that is that you can’t possibly outgive God. God out-fuels us every time. In this short video, Mark Scott and Dave Miles talk about how.

 Fueling God's Economy [2:53m]: Play in Popup | Download

Baptism is a significant step in life. It symbolizes a change of direction from a path to death to the path to life. When a person takes the waters of baptism, they are identifying with Christ in His death and burial (going into the waters) and in His ressurection (emerging from the waters to newness of spiritual life). Experience the power of the moment and the significance of this sacrament called baptism, in this short video called Jesus: Still Changing Lives.

 Still Changing Lives [2:58m]: Play in Popup | Download

Is the grass greener over on the other side? Pastor Mark challenges us to really think before we conclude it is so. God really can make your marriage work — if we’re willing to take a closer look, and with higher resolution, in this short video that accompanies the Divorce-Proof Your Marriage Series:Divorce-Proof Your Marriage, Part 3: High Definition Marriage.

 HD Marriage: Play in Popup | Download

The key word to knowing what God really desires for you is the Hebrew word Shalom. We often see this word translated as “peace” in our English Bibles. But “peace” doesn’t really capture the fullness of Shalom. Shalom is better understood as: “Nothing missing; nothing broken.” Shalom is what God wants for us. But Shalom requires always-on connectivity with God. In the 1600s a man by the name of Brother Lawrence wrote the classic on this kind of connectivity: The Practice of the Presence of God.

Lawrence learned the secret of not compartmentalizing his life. He wrote: “To be constantly aware of God’s presence, it is necessary to form the habit of continually talking to him throughout each day. To think that we must abandon conversation with him in order to deal with the world is erroneous.”
When Paul wrote “Pray without ceasing” in Thessalonians 5, he wasn’t suggesting we stay in closets all day on our knees in prayer. He was talking about this “Practice”, an always on, always-going, continuous conversation with God in the whole of life. As we grow in the practice, this becomes more and more natural. But in the early stages of learning the Practice, this seems difficult. But keep at it; it’s possible and it’s beautiful.

Songwriter John Michael Talbot talked about it this way: When in prayer, if you hear something distracting; begin to look at distractions as points of prayer. Any so-called “distractions” should become part of the Practice. As I was writing this my home was suddenly flooded with neighborhood kids and the incessant sound of the doorbell ringing. Then my three-year-old Joseph walked into the room where I was writing, and said, “Daddy, Bryn’s here. She’s banging on a can in the other room.” I said, “Yes, I can hear that.” Then he said, “Are you working daddy?” And I said yes. He said, “So should I tell Bryn to stop banging?” “Sure.”" All the while God was with me; my distractions became a part of the flow of the Practice of the Presence.

So let me apply this to a common scenario in my home. I hear my kids fighting in the other room. Instead of logging off with God, taking care of the situation, and then logging back on, I walk with God into to the room where the argument is occurring. God is with me in the stillness; God is with me in the noise. So when I go into the other room to deal with my fighting kids, sensing that God is with me, it changes the way I deal with my fighting kids. If I’m not practicing the presence of God, I simply become yet another contender in the fight. But when I’m aware that God is with me, I become an agent of Shalom, to bring “nothing missing, nothing broken” into my home.

Can you look back and remember times of Shalom? What was at work? Can you think of any present or future opportunities to experience Shalom, and more, to become an agent of Shalom?

Mark