Jesus

To Those Doing It Anyway

| Marie Griffith

Monday School is inspired by my Saturday morning run and Paul, formerly known as Saul, and the anonymous writer of Hebrews.

Saturday morning is one of my favorite times of the week. I ran earlier than usual and saw several friendly faces on the trails last Saturday. I saw some not-so-friendly faces too. It’s easy to see who is happy to be there and who is not. I passed several couples, and usually, one was cheerful while the other was merely tolerating the morning activity. One couple drove around the park in a golf cart and it was the same way. She smiled as they made the turn around the big tree, but he seemed irritated at the whole thing. One woman walked the trails humming a tune. Later, I smiled at a young man who frowned with the same intensity as he ran.

The people with the scowls on their faces were probably really nice, but maybe they’re not morning people and they’d rather be in bed early on a Saturday morning. Or maybe their significant other asked them to come along. Or maybe the doctor told them they need to move their bodies before it’s too late. Whatever the reason they were out there, this is for them.

And it’s for you and me and anyone out there doing hard things when we don’t feel like doing anything. Or doing the right and good and hard things when we could be doing easy things.

Way to go! Because it means something when we do what we know we should do, when we’re not feeling it. It’s important and it matters.

To do the work, when we’d rather play.

To study for the test to learn, instead of barely passing.

To workout, when we’d rather sleep in.

To say something for someone’s good, when it would go better for us if we were silent.

To forgive, when we’d rather not.

And to love, when it would be easier to turn our backs and walk away.

Paul said a lot about doing hard things. He made many references to athletes, their training, and the races. In his first letter to the Corinthian believers he wrote, “All athletes are disciplined in their training. They do it to win a prize that will fade away, but we do it for an eternal prize. So I run with purpose in every step. I am not just shadowboxing.” 9:25-26

He wrote “I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:14

When Paul spoke to the elders at Ephesus he said, “I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace.”  Acts 20:24

Then near the end of his life, Paul wrote to Timothy, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”  2 Timothy 4:7

Look at the words Paul used: discipline, training, press on, aim, complete the task, fought, fight. Those are the words of a man that didn’t always feel like doing what he was doing. But he did it and he did it well. He knew his purpose, he fixed his eyes on the prize, and he did what he knew to do.

Fellow journeyer, it’s okay if we don’t feel it all the time. It’s good and right to do what we know to do even when we don’t want to do it. We press on, we aim and we fight.

Then God gives us the moments when we do feel it. We feel the compassion and grace, the tenderness and thankfulness, and the extravagant love. We feel it down deep in our souls and it brings a smile, unexpected tears, or an unreserved joy.

The writer of Hebrews reminds us:

“Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.  Hebrews 12:1b-2a

Jesus started it and he’ll finish it…..now let us press on and fight the good fight.

Photo by Emma Simpson on Unsplash

Our Trademark

| Marie Griffith

A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.
John 13:34-35

I’m not sure why, but the second verse was rolling around in my head all weekend and it prompted me to read the passage where it’s found and then some.

These words found in the Gospel of John are part of the final instructions Jesus gave to his disciples before he was arrested and crucified. With his public ministry completed, Jesus spent the last hours before his arrest with them.

I wondered about the new part, because this is not a new command. ‘Love your neighbor’ was part of the Mosaic Law from the beginning. Matthew Henry said in his commentary, “it is like an old book in a new edition corrected and enlarged. This commandment had been so corrupted by the traditions of the Jewish church that when Christ revived it, and set it in a true light, it might well be called a new commandment. Laws of revenge and retaliation were so much in vogue, and self-love had so much the ascendant, that the law of brotherly love was forgotten as obsolete and out of date; so that as it came from Christ new, it was new to the people.”

The commandment was new in experience. For the first time, the people had a perfect example of love in human flesh and they were about to see it in an even more powerful way.

So, love is how everyone will know we follow Jesus. It’s our thing….our trademark.

Love. That’s how everyone will know. It’s not the church we attend. It’s not our denomination, education, or accumulation. Our traditions, rituals, network, or political views. It’s not our Facebook posts, YouTube channels or Twitter feed.

It’s our love for one another. And it’s not just the kind that says the right words.

John wrote in his first epistle: “Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.’ 1 John 3:18

Then I remember what it says in Paul’s famous love passage:
“If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.”  1 Corinthians 13 MSG

Without love, we are nothing. We are ambassadors of Jesus, commanded to love like he did.

It would be easier to finish this post using the collective “we” because it keeps me from having to look closely at my own life and asking myself, “do people know I follow Jesus by the way I love others?”

But I can’t dodge the question and I can’t compare myself to others. I’m commanded to love as he has loved me and honestly, I mess it up a lot of the time. Most of the time. On my own it is impossible, but with God all things are possible.

He never asks us to do something without giving us what we need to do it. And what He has given us is Himself.

Later in John’s Gospel, Jesus says, “If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love.”

Without love, I am nothing.

Father, thank you for Your love and grace. Show me how to love others like You love me. Deliver me from the love of my own comfort and make me willing to serve others. Make me more and more desperate for You and keep me in the light of Your love. Show me Your ways and align my heart with Yours, so I see others the way you see them. Create in me a clean heart, O God. Renew a steadfast spirit within me. I love You.

Photo courtesy of Joanna Schley

Second Fiddle

| Marie Griffith

It seems odd that Paul wrote to the Roman church telling them to “outdo” one another. When I’ve ever wanted to outdo someone, it’s usually because I want attention or I want to be better at something. Basically, it was about me and me and me.

But the outdoing Paul wants us to do is not that kind. Romans 12:10 in the ESV says, “Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.”

Other versions say “honor others above yourselves” or “take delight in showing honor.”

The kind of outdoing Paul tells us to do goes against the kind of outdoing we’re used to doing. Instead of outdoing each other in seeking honor, Paul urges us to outdo one another in showing honor.

Jesus gives us an example of what seeking honor looks like. He warns his disciples about what they see some of the religious leaders doing in Matthew 23.

5 “Everything they do is done for people to see: They make their phylacteries wide and the tassels on their garments long; 6 they love the place of honor at banquets and the most important seats in the synagogues; 7 they love to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces and to be called ‘Rabbi’ by others.

Before we start feeling good about ourselves because we think we don’t do this, stop. We’ve all done it and do it, only without the phylacteries and tassels. We brag and gloat and work hard for people to see all the good stuff in our lives. This happens on playgrounds, in school cafeterias and on basketball courts. It happens on news discussion panels, in political speeches, and on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook. It happens at home, work, the gym and church. Wherever any number of people are gathered, physically or virtually, this can happen.

My favorite translation of verse 10 of Romans 12 is from the Message. The last part of the verse says, “practice playing second fiddle.”

Just think how much would change if we practiced this.

What a difference between seeking honor and showing honor! The difference can mean changed lives and restored relationships. Better marriages, life-giving friendships, less conflict at work, peace and joy.

Unfortunately, I tend to seek it more than show it, but with God’s help, I will get better and better at the best kind of outdoing.

To find out more about Monday School, go here.

Photo by Jenn Evelyn-Ann on Unsplash

Like a Good Neighbor

| Marie Griffith

When I finally sat down last night to read and write a little, I was overcome with nostalgia. Our Mother’s Day celebration caused some of it but most of it came from our time at the church. The church was filled with others honoring the man’s life.

We knew him as Mr. Jimmy. We lived next door to him and his wife for thirteen years in another small town not far from the one we live in now.

We drove past the old place on our way to the church and the sweet memories filled my mind. The summer gardens. The country roads. The fields and the tractors and the cows.

And Mr. Jimmy.

The visitation line moved slowly. When it was my turn to offer my condolences, I shared a few treasured memories, told his wife and daughters what he meant to us, and explained that our son would be there but he lives far away now.

Our kids spent a lot of time in Mr. Jimmy’s fields; climbing the hay bales, fishing the ponds, digging up bones and old glass bottles. They spent plenty of time in Mr. Jimmy’s barn too. Playing in empty stalls, cuddling kittens and chasing puppies. We didn’t know it until yesterday but on the wall of Mr. Jimmy’s barn is the name of each child that has ever passed through it, including our three. His wife told us Mr. Jimmy wrote their names in black permanent marker.

Anyone could tell Mr. Jimmy loved his place by the way he took care of it. He kept the barn clean and knew where everything was. A dust covered radio played old country or southern gospel music all the time. He enjoyed time on his tractor and ate onions right out of the ground. He chewed on peppermint from his herb garden to ease an upset stomach. He loved to tell a good story, especially the ones about how he used to be but wasn’t anymore. He loved Jesus and gave him all the credit for anything good in his life. He’d come to the house for a short visit and sit on the same side of the love seat every time. What we all remember most about Mr. Jimmy was his kindness, generosity and a willingness to go above and beyond.

Usually a verse I’ve read is rolling around in my head and I share it for Monday School. But today, it wasn’t a verse I was thinking about. I was thinking about Mr. Jimmy and what he meant to so many people.

Mr. Jimmy was a good neighbor. The kind Jesus talked about in the Gospels. The kind James wrote about in his epistle. And everyone was Mr. Jimmy’s neighbor.

Yes indeed, it is good when you obey the royal law as found in the Scriptures: “Love your neighbor as yourself.    James 2:8

The Blazes

| Marie Griffith

This Monday School post is inspired by my backpacking trip over the weekend. According to the Georgia Appalachian Trail Club there are 165,000 or so white blazes on the Appalachian Trail. A blaze is a 2 inch by 6 inch vertical rectangle painted in white on trees, rocks, posts….even bridges to mark the AT. Some hikers forgo a map and only follow the white blazes to guide them on the trail. blaze

I never knew what a blaze was until I had to know what it was. It’s a good thing our guide shared about them because they helped as I trekked the trail alone in the snow on my first AT hike. It seems simple enough, doesn’t it? Follow the white blazes.

It makes me think of the exchange between Jesus and Philip in John chapter one.

The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, “Follow me.”  John 1:43

What Jesus didn’t say is just as important. He didn’t tell Philip to get his act together. He didn’t give him a checklist or any instructions. He didn’t require him to quote a large section of the Old Testament or ask him about his past.

Jesus said, “Follow me.”

Philip followed. Then he told his friend Nathanael and he followed Jesus.

Is it that simple? Follow Jesus and tell our friends about it?

Or are we like the teachers of the law and the Pharisees called out by Jesus in Matthew 23, adding heavy burdens and strict rules? Have we made it something it’s not supposed to be?

The white blazes are easy to follow usually, but hikers miss a blaze and get off course. This past weekend a young hiker asked us if he was on the AT. When we told him we were, he asked us to tell the young lady following him at a distance that she was on the right course. She smiled with a sigh of relief when we assured her she was where she was supposed to be.

That’s what friends are for.

 

Forest

Making Headway

| Marie Griffith

I’ve been running for over three years now. I went from believing I could never run to…….well……running. I’m not sure I’m any good at it. I’ve never experienced the “runner’s high” I hear about unless you count how I feel when I’m finished with a run. I’m elated after a run. Because it’s over.

And on my last runs, I felt as if I’ve never ran in my life. It was awful the entire time. Maybe it was because I woke up late and skipped parts of my routine. I rushed out the door before I finished my first cup of coffee because I was determined to get the run in before I had to be in the office. Within the first quarter mile I knew. My legs ached and my lungs burned more than usual, so I slowed my pace. The slower pace only prolonged the misery. The run never got better. I almost quit halfway through my goal, then I thought about quitting the rest of the time. But I finished.

When I read what Jesus thought when he saw his disciples in a boat on the sea it reminded me of my run and our lives.

“And he saw that they were making headway painfully, for the wind was against them.”  Mark 6:48

I can think of no better words to describe the hard parts of my journey. My running journey, the married one, the parenting one, my working and writing ones and the most important journey – the following Jesus one.

Making headway painfully.

Of course, it’s not always like that. There are days when it’s easy. Or easier. Good run days happen. I don’t let the bad run days stop me from working to get better at it.

It’s the same way on the other journeys. I can’t let the hard days of my marriage make me forget the good days. I don’t let the days when I feel uninspired to write any words prevent me from continuing my blog or steal my dream of publishing a book. On the days my parental decision making is less than wise I try to remember all the times it wasn’t.

And on the journey that matters the most…the one that affects all my other ones, I’m learning as I go. There are days I’ve let pride rule my heart, or acted selfishly. I’ve ignored what Jesus said about loving my neighbor or failed to do something good I know I should have done. But it happens less than it used to. I’m learning. Slowly at times. Painfully sometimes. But I’m moving forward and I’m never alone.

Jesus said, “Take heart, it is I”.  Mark 6:50

He sees. He knows when it’s painful and slow. And He’s there giving me the courage to keep at it.

I stumble…..but I’m making headway.

 

 

Love Me Tender

| Marie Griffith

Eleven days into my Lenten journey and I realize I’ve slowed down……a little. I’ve allowed for more quiet time in the morning….reading, praying, listening and reflecting, but I’m still trying to find a consistent soul-speed.

I’m reading a daily online Lent devotional and the Gospel of Mark during my Lenten journey. This week the story of a man with a withered hand in Chapter 3 struck a chord. Or maybe it hit a nerve.

Jesus walked into the synagogue and noticed a man with a withered hand. Some versions say his hand was shriveled. Others use the word deformed or crippled. Whatever word described it, the man’s right hand was useless. The same story in Luke 6:6-11 says Jesus asked the man to stand in front of the crowd.

Jesus wanted the people to see the man and his gnarled hand. Perhaps some in the crowd were moved to compassion. Some wondered what Jesus would do. The Pharisees and scribes looked for a way to accuse Jesus.

In all three Gospel accounts of the story, Jesus questioned the crowd.

“Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath or to do harm?”

“If your sheep fell into the ditch on the Sabbath, wouldn’t you lift it out?”

“On the Sabbath should we save someone’s life or destroy it?”

The four words at the end of verse 4 in Mark’s version say it all.

“But they were silent.”

No answers. Not a word. Only silence. The religious leaders were unyielding. The sight of the disabled man and the pointed questions did nothing to soften their hearts. They were consumed with the idea of catching Jesus in breaking the Sabbath.

I wonder about the onlookers, though. The other ones in the synagogue. Why didn’t one of them answer Jesus and say, “I would rescue my sheep” or “It’s lawful to save a life any day of the week.” Had they heard the man-made rules about Sabbath for so long they forgot what God said? Were they scared into silence? Afraid of what the religious leaders would do if they spoke up?

Verse 5 says, “And Jesus looked around at them with anger, grieved at their hardness of heart….” 

Then Jesus told the man to stretch out his hand and it was restored.

Such a work of mercy should have tendered hearts and caused amazement and faith, but they wouldn’t be moved. They persisted in unbelief and set out to destroy Jesus. The ones determined to uphold the law missed the whole point of it: to love God and love people.

Are our hearts hard? Are we unmoved? Do we value man-made rules and traditions over people? Are we determined to move our agendas forward even when it means hindering others’ journey toward God? Are we holding onto status or position or reputation instead of trusting God?

Father, show us our hearts. Reveal the deepest places – the ones we try not to see. Make our hearts tender so we are moved by what moves You. May we love you wholeheartedly and may we see those around us the way You see them.

And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.  Ezekiel 36:26

 

Photo by Jamez Picard on Unsplash

 

 

 

Good News

| Marie Griffith

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
    and renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from your presence,
    and take not your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
    and uphold me with a willing spirit.             Psalm 51:10-12 ESV

This week’s Monday School passage is part of a Psalm of David. He penned the Psalm after he was confronted by Nathan about Bathsheba.

What better words to express a broken heart over it’s own sin. It’s God who makes our hearts clean and renews a right spirit within. And it’s God who can restore to us the joy of His salvation.

This is my daily and constant prayer within the 40 plus days of Lent. I know only a little more about Lent than I did last year. My Lenten journey was a sweet time of reflection and re-centering and so I began again on Ash Wednesday, which was the same day as Valentine’s Day this year.

The purpose of my observation of Lent is to slow down, seek, reflect, and prepare. I’m committed to leave plenty of open spaces on my calendar so I can slow down and move at soul-speed but I will also reduce my smart phone and laptop use. Unintentionally, I’ve started to believe I’m more important than I am. Missed calls, unread emails, and notifications from my blog or social media accounts scream for my attention. Shazam praises me for the great song find, Runkeeper reminds me it’s time for another run, and Netflix picks shows just for me. First, the dings, buzzes, and red bubble notifications never feel like soul-speed. Second, I’ve become the center of my world and that’s not where I belong.

So on this Lenten journey I ask God to take me back to the beginning.

God take us back, the place we began 
The simple pursuit of nothing but you 
The innocence of a heart in your hands 
God take us back, oh God, take us back

     Simple Pursuit by Passion

I will pause Monday School for a while and instead write about my journey back. I’m reading in Mark during this time if you want to join me.

And Mark’s first words are these:  “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”   Mark 1:1

Mark has some good news for us.

 

photo by Joanna Schley

 

Won’t Back Down

| Marie Griffith

This week’s Monday School is inspired by a story Jesus told in Luke 18:1-8. The story is called The Parable of the Persistent Widow.

First, we’re introduced to the judge. Jesus described him as one who had no regard for God or people and the judge admitted it. In other words, the judge was selfish and probably corrupt. Then Jesus told about the widow. The widow went to the judge over and over and over about an injustice she experienced. We’re never told what happened to the widow, only that she demanded justice against her adversary consistently and relentlessly. The judge grew weary of her continual demands and finally granted her the justice she sought.

Jesus made this point. If an uncaring, selfish judge will give proper justice to the poor widow, how much more will our loving God give justice when we seek it?

But the best part of the entire story isn’t the story at all. Verse one says, “Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up.” Another Bible version says, “always pray and never lose hope.’ Still another, “always pray and don’t lose heart.” My favorite part of the parable is WHY Jesus told the parable.

Think about it. The widow had no tangible resources. No network of friends that could help. She was poor, alone, and helpless. The only thing she had was grit. Maybe you call it moxie. Some say tenacity. Even so, I’m sure there were days she was as tired of seeing the heartless judge as he was her. Tired of hearing the same answer day after day. But she didn’t give up and she didn’t back down.

Jesus told this story so we would always pray and never give up. When it seems too hard and the waiting is too long. When the light at the end of the tunnel is gone. When it feels like we love or work or give in vain.

We pray and we don’t give up. We keep hoping. We keep loving. And we keep working.

This story makes me think of one of my favorite classic rock songs, I Won’t Back Down by Tom Petty. When I hear this song, I can’t help but feel more confident and determined about anything I’ve resolved to do. If you haven’t heard the song in a while, I encourage you to look it up on your music app and add to your playlist.

The lyrics are simple and powerful.

“I Won’t Back Down” 

Well, I won’t back down
No, I won’t back down
You can stand me up at the gates of hell
But I won’t back down

No, I’ll stand my ground
Won’t be turned around
And I’ll keep this world from draggin’ me down
Gonna stand my ground
And I won’t back down

(I won’t back down) Hey, baby
There ain’t no easy way out
(I won’t back down) Hey, I
Will stand my ground
And I won’t back down

Well, I know what’s right
I got just one life
In a world that keeps on pushin’ me around
But I’ll stand my ground
And I won’t back down

Let us pray and never give up.