Overcorrecting makes for a lot of car wrecks. The right-side tires get off in the gravel, you feel the car
tugging into the ditch, and in a moment of panic you jerk the wheel and roll the car. Our
absentmindedness often has us panicking over dangers in many areas of our lives. We lose our focus
and drift outside the lines that God has painted for us. In our zeal to get back on track, we often lose
our way altogether.
For some time now, the Church has lost its muscle tone in its defense of the weak, in its pursuit of
justice, and in its willingness to stand up against violence and cruelty. The perception of the Church has
become that of a wimpy, emasculated, lips-zipped consoler. Now that’s not the biblical Jesus and that’s
not the Christians who are His namesake.
There’s a growing movement among church leaders in the West that is intent on showing that God’s
people are not pushovers. Christians, especially believing men, are finding their voice again and
stiffening against a lot of the rot and erosion all around. This is a good thing. But, in this revival of
muscle, there is the dangerous possibility of an overcorrection. In an attempt to show that we’re not
the lightweights that popular culture portrays us to be, are we jerking the wheel? One hot button issue
that seems to be a flashpoint in all of this is the matter of guns and self-defense. Would Jesus
encourage Billy Joe to take his guns to town or would he encourage him to listen to his mom and ride
without? Jon Piper has written a thought-provoking article on this very topic and, while none of us will
agree with it entirely, I think it forms a good basis for a much-needed conversation. So; God, guns, the
gospel, and our 2nd Amendment rights and responsibilities. We probably won’t need any coffee or baked
goods to fuel the conversation but it can’t hurt. I hope you’ll consider joining us Sunday morning,
September 15th at 8:30am in room 208 in the Family Life Center as we eat, fellowship, and work on this
together. See you then and there!

Click here for this week’s Roundtable Discussion article

The picture Christ paints of the blind led by the blind, tumbling headlong into the ditch, is a particularly
pitiful one. Blind people have a great and undeniable need and the ones who are best positioned to
help them navigate through the asphalt jungle are those who can see. In the parable, the well-
intentioned blind man who attempts to take others in hand and lead them onward is ultimately held
responsible for the tragedy that comes. Unless we be given sight, we must never endeavor to lead
anyone who remains in darkness.

“Blind Leading the Blind” © Lee Mclaughlin

Every time and place has its poor and needy. The United States, rich and prosperous as it is, is still home
to many homeless and, sadly, the disabilities of many cancel out many of America’s opportunities.
There are a great many of our neighbors who need a hand. In the years since FDR’s New Deal and
Johnson’s Great Society, our country has worked hard to meet every material need present in every
community. After billions and billions of dollars of appropriations, the establishment of whole
government departments, and the institutionalization of benefits; the ranks of the needy around us
have only grown. In The Tragedy of American Compassion, journalist Marvin Olasky first began to
question whether the abdication of social services to the State by the Church was a good development.
His writing in the early 90’s has given rise to a movement to restore the soul to our nation’s charitable
efforts and to give charge of the blind back to those who can see. Unable to assign the entire book for
our roundtable discussion, I’ve chosen instead to include a thoughtful review of the book written by
Daniel Bazikian. Please take a moment to read through it and come prepared to share your thoughts
with the rest of us. We’ll be gathering in room 208 on Sunday morning, September 8th at 8:30. Hot
coffee and fresh baked goodies will caffeinate and sweeten the discussion!
-Pastor Tate

Click here for this week’s article

A simple sensory experience can instantly transport a person to another time and place. Every time I catch a whiff of cigar smoke, I’m back in the center-field bleachers of Memorial Stadium in Baltimore; a little kid with his dad. If I hear just a few notes of “Interstate Love Song” by Stone Temple Pilots, I’m riding shotgun with my college roommate as we bomb around Toccoa, Georgia doing our Meals on Wheels student ministry in his girlfriend’s Buick LeSabre. With every Tic Tac I taste, I’m sitting in a pew next to my Grandma staring out the tall windows of the Congregational Church in Benson, Vermont wondering what other treats might be hiding in that purse of hers. Our minds have an immense database of experiences. But searching that database for a particular memory, image, or bit of information can be very difficult and frustrating at times. We search and ponder; jogging our memories and all we often get are a few foggy reminiscences and some blurry pictures. But then, all of a sudden, we smell woodsmoke from a chimney or hear gravel under a car tire or hear an eagle scream and the memories that come flooding in are all crystal clear and in high definition. 

I think of this phenomenon when it comes to understanding God and the realities of our life beyond nature. There’s so much about our existence that we want to grasp and understand. But try as we might to get a handle on it, all we get is a hint or a faint ringing of a bell. But this is what I love about Scripture! God has given to us, in His holy Word, pages and pages of laws and letters; histories, songs, poems, and prophecies that all serve as those sights, sounds, smells, and tastes that evoke for us realities that we wouldn’t be able to access otherwise. God is plugging heavenly truth and insight into the mainframe of our hearts and minds. 

I love how Moses put it to his people in his final address to them as their leader: “For this commandment that I command you today is not too hard for you, neither is it far off. It is not in heaven, that you should say, ‘Who will ascend to heaven for us and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it?’ Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, ‘Who will go over the sea for us and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it?’ But the word is very near you. It is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it.” Instead of living in frustration and consternation over all you cannot make sense of, simply pick up the Bible today and read a little. See if what you read doesn’t transport you to the heights of heaven, to the depths of the earth, into the inner recesses of your being, and to the very throne room of your Father.

Heaven doesn’t applaud righteousness. It expects it.

In Luke 17, Jesus asks His disciples a series of rhetorical questions on the nature of servant-hood. “Will any one of you who has a servant plowing or keeping sheep say to him when he has come in from the field, ‘Come at once and recline at table’?” At the end of a long day, Jesus asks, does a master invite his servants to sit back, relax, and feast at the expense of his time and effort? “Will he not,” Jesus continues “rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, and dress properly, and serve me while I eat and drink, and afterward you will eat and drink’?” The servant shouldn’t expect to be served, should he? Christ then concludes the line of questioning, “Does he thank the servant because he did what was commanded?” No, of course not! “So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants, we have only done what was our duty.’” (Luke 17:7-10) When we pursue God, study His word, faithfully join in worship, and give of our time, talent, and treasure, we have only done that which we ought to have done. And while a selfish, lazy apathetic, and complacent church may praise us for this and cheer our sacrifice; there will be no applause from God. We only did what we ought to have done and, really, we ought to have done it a whole lot better. Whether you were led into the Kingdom of God by your outstretched hand or dragged by your heel, remember that the Lord led you all the same into His blessing. You live now beside quiet waters, you diet on milk and honey, and your lines fall in pleasant places. What then is the evidence of your love for God and your gratitude for His grace? When one looks at a hardwood forest in the wintertime, it’s not readily apparent which trees are alive and which are dead; seeing as how none of the trees have any leaves. But come spring, as the maple, oak, birch, and poplar fill out with foliage, those trees which are without root and dead will stand out in stark contrast to those that are verdant and alive. As the congregation rises to sing on a Sunday morning, it stands as a forest of faithful folk in winter. It’s not readily apparent which in attendance are spiritually alive and which are spiritually dead. But with every benediction comes the springtime of our faith. It will be by the Spirit’s fruit worked out throughout the week that will ultimately tell the tale. St. Augustine liked to argue that sin was its own punishment and righteousness its own reward. Living for the Lord is only sustainable when we love it; when we’ve become alive to it. Consider asking God to make righteousness your joy and holiness your nature. See if He doesn’t answer your prayer and turn the ought to instinct.

Over 3 million people will travel to Israel this year. They’ll walk the beautiful beaches along the Mediterranean coastline, they’ll hike the headwaters of the Jordan in the Upper Galilee, they’ll swim in the Dead Sea, sample the produce of the Jezreel Valley, and climb up through the Judean Mountains to the city of Jerusalem. A small number of these pilgrims will suffer a strange affliction upon entering the Holy City. These otherwise stable, well-adjusted, grounded individuals will descend into a deluded and obsessive psychosis. It’s called the Jerusalem Syndrome and it’s a well-documented concern. Megalomania, hysteria, anxiety, and bizarre outbursts of all kinds are all common signs of the condition. It’s a much written about disorder and psychologists are continually discussing and debating different theories; but all seem to agree that the root of the problem is in the uniqueness of Jerusalem itself. The very air in the city seems to be charged with a religious electricity that often overwhelms the most spiritually sensitive of its visitors. I’ve toured Jerusalem twice and I can testify to the inexplicable, kinetic power of the place. But while I certainly could sense that it was an important place and that it was perhaps singular in its spiritual consequence, I did not feel particularly close to God there.

There was a time when God dwelled in power on that barren mountain. His people of promise dwelled richly in Israel and built a house in Jerusalem for the Lord to dwell in. Yahweh, the God of the universe, was to reside with His people. His presence filled Solomon’s Temple. To make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem three thousand years ago was to draw near to the very presence of God. But this is not true today. Both Solomon’s temple and Herod’s have been destroyed, Jesus’ death on Calvary rent the veil in two, His resurrection made possible man’s reconciliation with God, and His ascension heralded the coming of God’s Holy Spirit to dwell in the hearts of all who believe. To be near to God today, no one need travel anywhere. Your Mount Moriah might be your grandmother’s living room, your Garden of Gethsemane might be your back woods, your Jordan River might be your church’s tub, and your Holy of Holies might very well be your bedroom closet. The holiest places on earth for each of us are not the places where God interacted with Abraham, Moses, David, and Paul; but rather the places where God interacted with you. As we anticipate the solemn remembrances and the cheerful celebrations associated with Passion Week, let us not attempt to live, worship, and experience Christ vicariously through the written histories of those who came before. Instead, let us strive to interact with God ourselves through the freedom afforded to us by the shed blood of His Son, our Savior Jesus Christ! Make every pew, cubicle, boulevard, avenue, table, and den a holy site in your spiritual history. “Seek the Lord while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near.” (Isaiah 55:6)