Redeeming the Time

Michael Jordan: "Failure."

Years ago, when Michael Jordan was still playing basketball, he appeared in a shoe commercial (Click the link above to view the thirty-second spot). But this time, instead of showing slam dunks and fist-pumping, it showed Jordan getting out of his car before a game, while he said the following in voice-over: “I've missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.”  The point I took from the spot is that while he missed often, at least he took the shot.  While he lost sometimes, at least he played the game.  From the standpoint of Kingdom work, the real tragedy is not when we try something great for God and fail; it’s when we fail to try.  How often do you and I have the ball in our hands with the clock ticking down…and we hold the ball, afraid to shoot, afraid to fail…until the buzzer sounds.  We're afraid to engage someone who needs the Gospel, because we know it will be awkward and uncomfortable to talk about spiritual things.  We ignore someone with serious physical or emotional needs because we just don't want to get involved.  Or God brings someone into our orbit, and we don’t even think to see them as someone who needs the love of Christ.  We're so caught up in our own stuff, we see them as simply people to deal with quickly so we can move on to the next item on our agenda.




We’ve been studying the book of Colossians for a month and a half now, and we’ve learned a lot about being holy; being different in a way that draws people to God.  Now we are at the end of the letter.  Paul just has his final greetings to specific people after this; what we’ll read this Sunday (4:2-6) is the last thing he says to the whole church.  For his final word, Paul tells us to be careful so that we don’t miss those moments when God passes us the ball.  Look at the second half of v. 5, making the most of the opportunity. The Greek literally says “redeeming the time.”  He's talking about what some have called "divine appointments." 

I like the way Henry Blackaby puts it in Experiencing God: Whenever you encounter someone who shows an interest in spiritual matters, drop whatever you are doing and spend as much time as necessary with that person.  We are not spiritual creatures by nature, so if a person is interested in spiritual things, that means the Holy Spirit is working on them right now.  God has just passed you the ball, and it’s your chance to do something wonderful.  But what can we do in order to be ready for these moments, so we don’t miss these opportunities?  That's what we'll talk about this Sunday.   

   

The Test of Holiness

 A few years ago, I was out running errands on a Saturday and stopped to get gas.  I zipped my credit card through the card reader, entered my zip code, and then saw a message that said, “Card not accepted.”  I tried again.  This time, the message said, “Pay inside.”  I was instantly irritated, because I was in a hurry, and now I would have to interact with a human being.  But I went inside and explained my predicament to the man behind the counter.  First of all, he didn’t seem sufficiently sorry for the inconvenience I had experienced.  He offered no apology, no “Machines…what’re you gonna do?”  He didn’t offer me some free ding-dongs to assuage my fury.  He simply asked, “How much gas do you need?”  I said that I didn’t know.  I just needed to fill up.  He said he couldn’t do that.  He needed to know an exact amount before I started pumping.  I said, “Look, I’ve done this before.  I leave my credit card with you, you turn on the pump, I come back here and sign when I’m done.”  He said that wasn’t possible.  Essentially, he was telling me I was wrong.  I was a liar or a fool, or both.  And he did this in poor English, which made it even more irritating.  As an aside, when I am angry, I don’t think rationally.  In fact, I think in ways that are comically absurd.  For instance, in that moment, I took his poor English as a personal affront, as if forty years earlier, as a boy in Pakistan, he intentionally refused to learn English simply so that he could annoy me someday. Finally, I gave in and made up some arbitrary amount of money I thought I would need to spend to fill up my car and he dutifully punched in the amount, swiped my card, and asked for my zip code.  He then said, “I can’t accept this card.”  Well, that did it.  This was obviously intentional on his part.  I took back my card and said, “You just lost my business.”  I said it loud enough that other people in the store could hear.  I sincerely hoped that the guy ion the store who was carefully choosing some Corn Nuts to go with his Big Red would say, “Well, if that perfectly reasonable fellow won’t patronize this establishment, perhaps I should take my business elsewhere as well.”  I stormed out.  Later, I related this story to my wife.  My wife—who is supposed to take my side in all things—said in an irritatingly gentle voice, “You know we just moved, right?  So perhaps you used our old zip code instead of our new one…”  I knew then that she was right.  I had yelled at a perfectly innocent Pakistani.  I was the jerk.

Here is why that story matters: We tend to think of holiness in terms of religiosity and morality.  The standards can be rather arbitrary, depending on who you talk to.  I know that when I was growing up, I judged the sincerity of a person’s Christianity by how often they went to church, whether they read the Bible regularly, and whether they drank alcohol or used foul language.  Your own standards of judgment might have been slightly different.  But when someone asked Jesus to reduce the Christian faith into its most basic form, He said there were two commands that every other command was subordinate to: Love the Lord and love your neighbor.  And in fact, those two commands are inextricably linked.  According to 1 John 4:20, if you don’t love your fellow human being, you don’t love God.  In other words, the way we treat people is the true test of holiness.  And on that Saturday afternoon, I failed.  It really didn’t matter that I had been to church that Sunday, got up that morning and spent time in the Word, or that I didn’t have any alcohol in my system, or that I didn’t use any curse words.  The way I treated the man in the gas station rendered all of that moot.  I was a hypocrite at that moment.  There was no holiness in me. 

            Our relationships matter to God.  And as we continue to study Colossians, this handbook on holy living, we come to this passage (Colossians 3:18-4:1) that deals with some of our most important relationships.  There are longer passages that deal with these issues, particularly Ephesians 5 and 6.  But here, very briefly, we see one key concept for each of these important relationships.  The point is not that if you’re a truly holy person, you’ll have perfect relationships; but that your holiness should be evident in how you treat the people you spend the most time with.  It would have been very easy for me to respond graciously to that man in the gas station; that’s what makes that story so embarrassing for me.  But it’s much harder to be consistently holy in the way I treat my wife, my kids, and the people with whom I work, because they see me every day for hours a day; they see me in a variety of situations. They see the parts of me no one else gets to see; the stuff I tend to hide from the rest of you.  They see my true character.  So this Sunday, we'll take a look at our most important relationships through the eyes of Colossians.  We'll see the standard God holds us to.  And as an additional bonus, you'll get to see me deal with a couple of highly controversial topics--the closest thing you'll ever see to a preacher walking a high wire without a net! 

Real-World Holiness

Many American manufacturers are going to great lengths to protect themselves from getting sued. As a result, many companies now include stunningly obvious warnings about their product. Every year the Wacky Warning Labels Contest selects what it calls "the most absurd and silly warning labels attached to everyday products."

Here were the winners for the 2012 contest:

• The Grand Prize Winner was for a 7-inch decorative globe with the following warning label: "These globes should not be referred for navigation."
• The Second Prize Winner was for an electric razor for men with the following warning label: "Never use while sleeping."

Past winners have included the following warning labels:

• "Remove child before folding"—a warning label on a baby stroller
• "Does not supply oxygen"—a label on a common dust mask (2011 Contest Winner)
• "Never operate your speakerphone while driving" - on a hands-free cell phone product called the "Drive 'N' Talk"! (2010 Contest Winner)
• "Danger: Avoid Death"—a warning label on a small tractor
• "Harmful if swallowed"—a warning on a brass fishing lure with a three-pronged hook
• "This product moves when used"—a warning on a popular children's scooter
• A rotary tool includes the following warning label: "This product is not intended for use as a dental drill"
• "May cause drowsiness"—a warning label for Nytol One-a-Night sleeping aids

--Preachingtoday.com, submitted by Van Morris

 

Rules are a part of life.  Unfortunately, people think they can reduce the Christian faith to a list of rules: "Do this.  Don't do that.  Don't eat that.  Don't watch that.  Don't associate with them."  But that's not holiness; it's legalism.

Ironically, legalism turns out to be much easier than true holiness.  Anyone who is sufficiently motivated can follow a list of rules.  But it takes the power of God to be loving, kind, forgiving, humble, patient, and joyful.  The people who conspired to kill Jesus were very good at following rules, but they weren’t holy.  Jesus followed the commands of Scripture to the letter, but He had something more.  So if we want to become the people God created us to be; if we want to live in a way that is distinct and compelling, that draws other people to God, then the answer is NOT to simply set up a list of rules and try really hard to follow them.  That has traditionally been the way religion teaches a person to be holy, but it doesn’t work.  Paul talks about this in the last verse of Colossians 2: Such regulations indeed have an appearance of wisdom, with their self-imposed worship, their false humility and their harsh treatment of the body, but they lack any value in restraining sensual indulgence.  In other words, if you try hard enough to follow rules, you might succeed in looking a little more moral.  But you’ll still be the same person on the inside. 

Frankly, this is one reason why Christians get so discouraged.  They say, “I was so excited when I accepted Christ.  I really thought I was going to be a new person.  But I still get angry and hurt people when I fly off the handle.  I still have these selfish, lustful thoughts that I’d die if anyone found out about.  I still can’t bring myself to forgive that person who hurt me all those years ago.  And I still sometimes get disappointed with God for not giving me the life I wanted.  I go to church and I’ve learned not to cuss, so it may look like I’m living the Christian life.  But it only looks that way.”  Fortunately, God’s response to those who resonate with what I just said is NOT “Try harder.”  Instead, in Colossians 3 He offers us a process of how to grow into the holy character we all long for.  As you read this chapter, don’t look at it as a list of rules.  Instead, it’s a compelling vision of what holiness looks like in the real world.  It really boils down to a three-step process, one we'll explore in our sermon this Sunday.

Our Mission

I wish someone would write a book about the goofy traditions certain churches have that just defy explanation.  I read once about a Lutheran church in Minnesota that was furious with their new pastor because he didn’t touch the radiator (space heater) before he served communion. He told them he had never heard of that as part of the Communion liturgy.  He even spoke to some of his seminary professors, none of whom had ever heard of such a thing.  One even told him he might have stumbled onto some strange Scandinavian sect (The Church of the Holy Radiator?).  In desperation, the young man decided to call his predecessor, who was enjoying his retirement.  When the old man heard the story, he laughed uncontrollably.  When he finally regained composure, he said, “It gets cold in Minnesota, and on those cold days, I was afraid I would shock the first person who came to receive communion. So before I called them forward, I would touch the radiator to discharge any static.  I had no idea they would turn that into a tradition.” 

Closer to home, there are churches that believe it’s wrong to use musical instruments in church, because they aren’t mentioned in the New Testament.  Now, these are my brothers and sisters in Christ, and I love them...in fact, I look forward to seeing them in Heaven someday, and especially look forward to seeing their expressions of surprise when they see me there!  But I must confess: It seems silly to me to base a doctrine on what’s NOT mentioned in Scripture.  Many things aren’t mentioned in the New Testament, including pants; I doubt we want to follow that logic.  At any rate, years ago in another town, I used to lead a worship service at a nursing home on Tuesday afternoons.  The director of the nursing home was a member of one of these churches.  Still, she would come out every Tuesday and help me lead the singing (believe me, I needed the help).  Since we had a pianist accompanying us, I figured maybe she was more open-minded than her fellow church members.  So when Christmas was approaching, I invited her to sing in our community choir.  She had a lovely voice, and we were going to have people from every church in town except hers, so why not?  She said, “We don’t believe in singing in church with instruments.”  I was baffled.  It was okay to sing about Jesus with a piano in a nursing home, but that same situation inside a church building was sin?  Huh?

 

It makes me wonder how much stuff WE do in our church that really has no purpose.  The best way to answer that question is to determine what our true purpose is.  We’re continuing to look at Colossians, a guidebook to holy living.  This Sunday, we'll take a look at Colossians 1:24-29.  In this passage, I believe Paul tells us what our purpose, our true mission, is as a church.  And maybe as we study together, we'll hear the Holy Spirit reveal some goofy stuff we do that needs to be set aside.  Or even better, some important stuff we need to start doing. 

The Glory of Christ

In 1927, the famous director Cecil B. DeMille filmed his epic story of the life of Jesus, The King of Kings.  He chose English actor HB Warner for the role of Jesus.  Warner is best known today as Mr. Gower, the druggist in It’s a Wonderful Life. DeMille wanted to make sure that Warner projected a completely holy image to the world.  So he made him sign a contract that said for five years, he wouldn’t appear in any roles that would harm his image as Jesus.  Every day, he was driven to the movie set in a car with the windows blacked out, and he wore a veil.  No one was allowed to speak to him off set aside from the director.  He was forbidden from going to ball games or night clubs, playing cards, swimming or riding in convertibles.  Did all of these restrictions make Warner a genuinely holy man?  No.  During filming, he was involved in a scandalous relationship with a woman who threatened to ruin the movie, until the DeMille paid her to keep quiet.  And Warner later said the pressure of playing Jesus drove him back into alcoholism.  That’s what it’s like when we try to become holy by simply following rules and being religious.  It doesn’t work; in fact, it can make us legalistic and hateful, which is a warped perversion of holiness.  

            Last Sunday, we looked at the life of Daniel, a man whose holiness changed two empires.  True holiness is one of the most compelling things you will ever see.  But how do we live that way?  For the next few weeks, we’re going to take a look at Colossians.  Why Colossians?  Well, look at Colossians 1:9-12.  That is Paul’s prayer for the Christians in the town of Collosse, and the reason why he wrote this letter.  You might say the book of Colossians is a guide to living a life of irresistible holiness.  So how does Paul begin in leading us to the holy life?  By describing Jesus in 1:15-23.  Why would He do this?  We’ll get to that this week.  This is an amazing, majestic, awe-inspiring text.  We could spend weeks on this, but we’re going to fly through it in a half hour.  This passage tells us four very controversial things about Jesus.  Then it tells us why knowing Jesus will change your life.

The Power of a Holy Life

In the summer of my 15^th year, I asked my parents if I could go visit my uncle Tim.  Tim was ten years older than me, which meant when I was 8 years old, he was a senior in high school.  To me, he was a kid, but one who got to do cool things like drive a car, play on the football team, and hang out with other teenagers.  Even better, he paid attention to me.  In the years since then, Tim had gone off to college, gotten married, and had gone to seminary in Ft Worth to prepare for the ministry.  So my parents drove me to Austin, where they put me on a bus bound for Ft Worth.  It was the first big trip I had ever taken on my own.  I spent a week there with my aunt and uncle and their friends, all of whom were seminary students or their spouses.  At the end of that week, I made a decision.  I didn’t know any people my age who were like my uncle and his friends, but when I went off to college, I would seek out people like that.  That decision changed my life.  When I got to UH, I immediately joined the Baptist Student Ministry.  There’s this idea with a lot of Christians that if you let your kid go off to a state college, he’ll lose his faith.  That certainly wasn’t the case for me; my faith in Christ came of age during my time there.  Best of all, I met my wife, Carrie, there.  As it turns out, that week in Ft Worth was one of the defining moments of my young life.

            What was it about my uncle and his friends that was so influential?  We didn’t have any deep conversations that I can remember.  We talked about sports, music, movies…the same stuff most people talk about.  All I can say is that those young men and women were different from any of the young people I knew back home.  They were different in a way that made me want what they had, and it made me want to know their God better.  That, to me, is holiness.  Now, I know the term “holy” is not a word we usually associate with attractiveness.  I rarely meet anyone who says, “I sure would like to be more holy.”  We associate holiness with fat, red-faced preachers who tell everyone they’re going to Hay-ell and that God is happy about that fact, or with old women who wear their hair in a tight bun and scowl at anyone who looks like they might be enjoying life.  But I believe that a truly holy life is the most compelling, attractive thing you’ll ever see.  It is the best advertisement for Jesus Christ in the world.  As we continue to talk about representing our Lord in a non-believing culture, we have to talk about what it means to be holy.  This Sunday, I want to look at the life of a man so holy, he changed two different empires.  I want you to consider whether or not you want to live such a life.

Defending Your Faith

Several years ago, the movie Taken was an unexpected hit.  In the film, a teenaged girl is kidnapped while traveling in Europe.  Fortunately, her father (played by Liam Neeson) is an ex-CIA operative who has "a special set of skills" that make rescuing his daughter possible.  I think the movie's success is in part due to the fact that many men (who often drive movie-going decisions) feel a tremendous responsibility to protect their loved ones.  As we watch Brian, the father, kill seemingly half of Eastern Europe with his bare hands in pursuit of his child, we feel a vicarious thrill. Along with that responsibility, many of us men feel a nagging insecurity.  Most of us don't have "a special set of skills."  As I told my daughter once in an attempt to encourage her to be careful around strangers, "I'm not the Dad from Taken.  I'm the Dad who gets killed trying to save you."

We as Christians have a responsibility to defend our faith.  But most of us feel highly unqualified to do that, especially in a culture where it is more and more popular to attack Christian beliefs.  Now I want to make something clear: I have a friend who is an atheist.  We’ve had lunch together, and we send each other messages from time to time.  I pray for his salvation.  He’s a little older than me, and very committed to his atheism, but he respects my beliefs and my right to do what I do.  He just doesn’t want any of his tax dollars going to support or promote my beliefs.  There are plenty of people out there like my friend.  But today, increasing numbers of atheists, agnostics and other irreligious people feel that the world needs to rid itself of religion entirely.  Inspired by several best-selling authors, they have an evangelistic zeal to disparage, discourage, and utterly defeat faith wherever they see it.  I suspect most of you know what I’m talking about; you’ve experienced it.  Someone has tried to make you feel ridiculous for your beliefs: a neighbor, a boss, a co-worker, a relative, a professor, a classmate.  The question I want us to explore is, how do we respond to these kinds of attacks?  I’ve been preaching for several weeks now on boldness, and I want to end the series this Sunday by talking about how to boldly represent Christ in the presence of those who mock our faith.  We'll be looking at 1 Peter 3:15-16, written to a group of Christians who lived in a culture far more hostile to their faith than ours.