I found a new website this week called ThePublicApology.com. It's a place for people to confess sins they've committed against friends, loved ones, co-workers and perfect strangers. It's morbidly fascinating to read some of the apologies posted on the page: a girl begs forgiveness from the boyfriend she cheated on. A woman apologizes to the anonymous collections agency employee she treated rudely. A man yearns to reconcile with the relatives he estranged himself from. Some of the "apologies" seem false, like the florist who confesses that he put sneezing powder in his customer's flowers. But most seem sincere, and they reek of sadness and regret.
As we conclude Amos this Sunday, I am happy to say that we will end this rather depressing book on a note a hope. We all carry burdens of guilt, but God is a redeemer. Even in sending a cranky old prophet like Amos, God's motive was a hope for our repentance. In this last message, based on Amos 5:4-6, we'll look at what it means to seek God and live. Our God doesn't want us to experience the pain and regret of a life badly lived. Let's talk about the life He has in mind for us.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Thursday, March 4, 2010
What God wants from us--Amos 5:24
Years ago, I had very poignant conversation with an elderly member of a former church. Mother's Day was approaching, and she told me about how, every year her children seemed to compete with one another in giving her the most elaborate and indulgent gift. She said, "I tell them the same thing every year, but none of them seem to believe me. I tell them that I appreciate these lovely gifts, but I would much rather have them come to church with me. I would trade all the gifts in for the chance to sit with my kids and grandkids in church." Sadly, the only time I ever saw those children in the same worship service with their mother was when I performed her funeral a few years later. They just didn't get it.
I wonder how often we're that thick-headed in our relationship to God? Last Sunday, we looked at how God views our religious activities. In Amos 5:21-23, God told the Israelites how much He hated their assemblies, songs and sacrifices. It wasn't because God was anti-religion; they were merely following the rituals prescribed in the law of Moses. Instead, it was their lifestyle that rendered their religion meaningless.
This Sunday, we'll look at the following verse: Amos 5:24. This may be the most famous verse in all of Amos, and it tells us what God really wants from us. As we study what righteousness and justice should look like in our nation, our church and our personal lives, I predict we'll uncover some applications that will have us talking heatedly over Sunday dinner. More importantly, I hope they lead to positive change for all of us.
I wonder how often we're that thick-headed in our relationship to God? Last Sunday, we looked at how God views our religious activities. In Amos 5:21-23, God told the Israelites how much He hated their assemblies, songs and sacrifices. It wasn't because God was anti-religion; they were merely following the rituals prescribed in the law of Moses. Instead, it was their lifestyle that rendered their religion meaningless.
This Sunday, we'll look at the following verse: Amos 5:24. This may be the most famous verse in all of Amos, and it tells us what God really wants from us. As we study what righteousness and justice should look like in our nation, our church and our personal lives, I predict we'll uncover some applications that will have us talking heatedly over Sunday dinner. More importantly, I hope they lead to positive change for all of us.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Amos: Moo of Destruction
Last week, we began our series from the book of Amos. Several of you told me that, yes indeed-y, that was the first sermon you had ever heard from that book. This week, we'll take a look at Amos 4:1-3, in a sermon I titled "Moo of Destruction." Yes, I got a little goofy with that title, but it could've been worse: Originally, it was "A Cow-tastrophe at Hamburger Hill." If you're wondering what's up with the bovine theme, Amos in our text criticizes a group of women he calls "cows of Bashan." We'll talk more about what that means, but he's not critiquing their appearance or weight. Instead, it's about their insatiable appetite for consumption. Or to put it in plain terms, the selfish, materialistic attitudes of the jet-set. You may think this is an odd time to preach on such a subject, when the economy isn't exactly booming, but the love of money doesn't discriminate based on net worth. Are you and I infected with the same "affluenza?" We'll examine the symptoms--and more importantly, the cure--this Sunday.
Friday, February 12, 2010
New Series: Amos
A while back, I told the church about my favorite explanation of the role of a prophet. I got this from John Ortberg:
Imagine that you have perfect pitch, musically speaking. You can hear the slightest deviation from the proper sound when someone is playing or singing. Now imagine that you live in a world where no one can sing. The sounds of their songs are the most offensive noise you have ever heard, yet they are blissfully ignorant of their own awfulness. They sing constantly at the tops of their cursed lungs, all the while thinking they sound like Pavarotti or Susan Boyle. How would this make you feel? A little cranky, perhaps? Would you feel compelled to speak out?
In Ortberg's analogy, the prophet was someone who had perfect SPIRITUAL pitch. They weren't sinless, but they were acutely aware of the will of God and painfully sensitive to what our sin does to His honor. Yet they lived in a spiritually tone-deaf world, where people sinned wantonly and thought of themselves as morally upright. Prophets had no choice but to preach. They weren't fortune-tellers, although God sometimes gave them insight into the future. Instead, they were the whistle-blowers who refused to let society go down in flames on their watch. Being a prophet didn't pay, and it often ended up costing them their lives. After all, armchair opera singers like you and I don't like being told how we really sound.
Keep that in mind as we begin a new series on the book of Amos. He was an especially cranky guy, even by prophetic standards. Yet his book is particularly applicable to our times. He preached to an Israel that was affluent and secure, and their "affluenza" had produced religious hypocrisy, injustice, and all manner of loathsome characteristics. Amos was a farmer from the southern region of Judah, and he didn't endear himself to his elitist northern neighbors with his preaching. But he had a loving purpose; destruction was coming upon Israel, and they had precious little time to avert the disaster through repentance.
From the outset of this series, the question each of us has to address is this: Am I open and willing to hear what God has to say to me? Do I want to know if I'm headed in the wrong direction? That's what we'll talk about this Sunday as we look at the first two chapters of Amos. The answer to those questions could make all the difference in our lives.
Imagine that you have perfect pitch, musically speaking. You can hear the slightest deviation from the proper sound when someone is playing or singing. Now imagine that you live in a world where no one can sing. The sounds of their songs are the most offensive noise you have ever heard, yet they are blissfully ignorant of their own awfulness. They sing constantly at the tops of their cursed lungs, all the while thinking they sound like Pavarotti or Susan Boyle. How would this make you feel? A little cranky, perhaps? Would you feel compelled to speak out?
In Ortberg's analogy, the prophet was someone who had perfect SPIRITUAL pitch. They weren't sinless, but they were acutely aware of the will of God and painfully sensitive to what our sin does to His honor. Yet they lived in a spiritually tone-deaf world, where people sinned wantonly and thought of themselves as morally upright. Prophets had no choice but to preach. They weren't fortune-tellers, although God sometimes gave them insight into the future. Instead, they were the whistle-blowers who refused to let society go down in flames on their watch. Being a prophet didn't pay, and it often ended up costing them their lives. After all, armchair opera singers like you and I don't like being told how we really sound.
Keep that in mind as we begin a new series on the book of Amos. He was an especially cranky guy, even by prophetic standards. Yet his book is particularly applicable to our times. He preached to an Israel that was affluent and secure, and their "affluenza" had produced religious hypocrisy, injustice, and all manner of loathsome characteristics. Amos was a farmer from the southern region of Judah, and he didn't endear himself to his elitist northern neighbors with his preaching. But he had a loving purpose; destruction was coming upon Israel, and they had precious little time to avert the disaster through repentance.
From the outset of this series, the question each of us has to address is this: Am I open and willing to hear what God has to say to me? Do I want to know if I'm headed in the wrong direction? That's what we'll talk about this Sunday as we look at the first two chapters of Amos. The answer to those questions could make all the difference in our lives.
Monday, February 1, 2010
The Chili Recipe
Our chili cookoff yesterday was a rousing success. I always enjoy getting the church family together for any reason, but 42 pots of chili (and some AMAZING desserts) on a cold night was a terrific idea. Thanks to Randy and Karen Mitchell for putting this all together.
Just in case you're interested in trying a different chili recipe this winter, here's my favorite:
Ingredients:
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 onions, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 pound ground beef
3/4 pound beef sirloin or stew meat, cubed
1 (14.5 ounce) can peeled and diced
tomatoes with juice
1 cup strong brewed coffee
2 (6 ounce) cans tomato paste
1 (14 ounce) can beef broth
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
3 1/2 tablespoons chili powder
1 tablespoon cumin seeds
1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa
powder
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon salt
1 can pinto beans
1 can black beans
IF you like your chili spicy:
4 fresh hot chile peppers, seeded and
chopped
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Directions:
1. Heat oil in a large saucepan over medium heat. Cook onions, garlic, ground beef and cubed sirloin in oil for 10 minutes, or until the meat is well browned and the onions are tender.
2. Add remaining ingredients.
3. Simmer for at least an hour and a half, but the longer, the better.
EVEN BETTER:
3. Put all ingredients in a crock pot, let it cook on low all day.
BETTER STILL:
3. Put all the ingredients together the day before, let the flavors mingle as they sit in the refrigerator overnight. Start cooking them first thing in the morning, let it simmer until supper.
Just in case you're interested in trying a different chili recipe this winter, here's my favorite:
Ingredients:
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 onions, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 pound ground beef
3/4 pound beef sirloin or stew meat, cubed
1 (14.5 ounce) can peeled and diced
tomatoes with juice
1 cup strong brewed coffee
2 (6 ounce) cans tomato paste
1 (14 ounce) can beef broth
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
3 1/2 tablespoons chili powder
1 tablespoon cumin seeds
1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa
powder
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon salt
1 can pinto beans
1 can black beans
IF you like your chili spicy:
4 fresh hot chile peppers, seeded and
chopped
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Directions:
1. Heat oil in a large saucepan over medium heat. Cook onions, garlic, ground beef and cubed sirloin in oil for 10 minutes, or until the meat is well browned and the onions are tender.
2. Add remaining ingredients.
3. Simmer for at least an hour and a half, but the longer, the better.
EVEN BETTER:
3. Put all ingredients in a crock pot, let it cook on low all day.
BETTER STILL:
3. Put all the ingredients together the day before, let the flavors mingle as they sit in the refrigerator overnight. Start cooking them first thing in the morning, let it simmer until supper.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Stages: Multiplying
A few weeks ago on a TV news show, Britt Hume had the audacity to suggest that the best thing Tiger Woods could do is to become a Christian and find redemption. This created a firestorm of controversy. Some criticized Hume for suggesting that Christianity is better than Buddhism. Some sarcastically asked if he was saying Christianity is the perfect religion for adulterers, because you can cheat on your wife all you want and God has to forgive you. Some asked why Hume, a man who is himself divorced, thought he had the right to counsel Woods on his marriage. The entire issue reminded us that, in our very tolerant age, where almost nothing is taboo anymore, one commandment still holds: Thou shalt keep thy religion to thyself. Don’t try to convince me, or anyone else, to believe like you do.
For most Christians today, it's very tempting to obey that command, isn’t it? After all, we don’t want to offend anyone. We’ve all known people who were obnoxious about evangelism; people who argued about religion and called it witnessing, or people who were pushy and judgmental. Why not just practice our own faith quietly, privately, and let God worry about the rest? As we talk about the stages in the Christian life, we’ve seen how God wants us to go from denying Him to seeking Him, to coming into His family and learning about what it means to follow Him, and then to the stage where we’re actually contributing to His work. But can we just stop there? Doesn't the Great Commission, and in fact the entire New Testament, teach us that God wants us to multiply? How can we share our faith authentically and effectively in a world that shuns absolute truth? This Sunday, we'll take a look at a man named Philip in Acts 8, and discover God's heart for people.
For most Christians today, it's very tempting to obey that command, isn’t it? After all, we don’t want to offend anyone. We’ve all known people who were obnoxious about evangelism; people who argued about religion and called it witnessing, or people who were pushy and judgmental. Why not just practice our own faith quietly, privately, and let God worry about the rest? As we talk about the stages in the Christian life, we’ve seen how God wants us to go from denying Him to seeking Him, to coming into His family and learning about what it means to follow Him, and then to the stage where we’re actually contributing to His work. But can we just stop there? Doesn't the Great Commission, and in fact the entire New Testament, teach us that God wants us to multiply? How can we share our faith authentically and effectively in a world that shuns absolute truth? This Sunday, we'll take a look at a man named Philip in Acts 8, and discover God's heart for people.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Stages: Contributing
When Carrie and I were getting married, like most couples we made a wedding registry. We registered for all sorts of elegant, expensive pieces of china, crystal and silver. I thought it was all a colossal waste of time. But Carrie’s friends were well-off. To my shock, we got almost everything on our list. We still have it…stored away in cabinets, or set up for display on a dresser. I keep promising Carrie someday I’ll get her a nice China cabinet so she can at least see these beautiful dishes and stemware. Maybe someday, I'll keep that promise.
When it comes to following Christ, we need to be more like Tupperware than like Waterford. There’s no such thing as heirloom Tupperware, is there? God doesn’t want china, crystal or sterling silver saints. He wants something He can use. We’re meant to work, not sit up on a pedestal to be seen. We're saved for a purpose, and that purpose is more meaningful that sitting as passive audience members in a church building while some guy preaches.
As we serve, an amazing thing happens: We find our unique role in God's Kingdom. We discover the amazing spiritual gifts that He has embedded within us. There's nothing that quite compares to doing what you were created to do. When we find it, that "sweet spot" in ministry, we've entered yet another stage in our growth toward Christ: Contributing to His work. This week, we'll continue our series by looking at a man named Barnabas, who made a huge contribution to the early Church...and whose work for the Lord is still bearing fruit 2000 years later. We'll talk about how you and I can find our sweet spot, too.
When it comes to following Christ, we need to be more like Tupperware than like Waterford. There’s no such thing as heirloom Tupperware, is there? God doesn’t want china, crystal or sterling silver saints. He wants something He can use. We’re meant to work, not sit up on a pedestal to be seen. We're saved for a purpose, and that purpose is more meaningful that sitting as passive audience members in a church building while some guy preaches.
As we serve, an amazing thing happens: We find our unique role in God's Kingdom. We discover the amazing spiritual gifts that He has embedded within us. There's nothing that quite compares to doing what you were created to do. When we find it, that "sweet spot" in ministry, we've entered yet another stage in our growth toward Christ: Contributing to His work. This week, we'll continue our series by looking at a man named Barnabas, who made a huge contribution to the early Church...and whose work for the Lord is still bearing fruit 2000 years later. We'll talk about how you and I can find our sweet spot, too.
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