(Outline/manuscript of my message at church on 11/12/16)

Intro: If you’ve been watching the news or checking your social media feed, or just generally alive, you’ve probably noticed that this week has been a time of great unrest and uncertainty. Every four years, about half the nation is upset about the results of the election. But I’ve never seen this kind of fear and division before. This is especially upsetting as Americans because, at least at the surface we have perceived this country as a place of relative safety. The reality of discrimination and oppression that have been going on since Europeans first arrived in this country is another story. Racism, at least, has been a part of our story since day one. Still, many of us are not accustomed to the kind of division and fear that most of the rest of the world knows, and, for that matter, that most of the rest of people in history have lived with all their lives.

I’m not interested in blaming any political party. But I think it is clear that, as a country, we have a problem, from the common man on the street all the way up to the top of our government.

This puts us in an interesting position as both Americans and Christians. When it comes to our response, it is helpful to take a step back and look at the whole of human history. It is helpful to realize that the people of God have almost always lived under the rule of corrupt men.

Jesus himself was born under the rule of Herod the Great, who slaughtered innocent children in Bethlehem. And Jesus was crucified under the rule of Herod Antipas, who stole another man’s wife and later had John the Baptist executed because of the request of a woman who danced impressively for his friends.

The early Church grew and expanded under the rule of terrible men like Nero (who blamed Christians for the Great Fire of Rome, which, supposedly, he himself ordered), and others like Domitian and Trajan who brutally persecuted the church.

And looking further back in the Old Testament, God’s people lived under the rule of countless corrupt men. From the wicked kings of Israel to enslavement under Egypt to exile in Babylon, the rule of thumb is that God’s people have lived under the rule of corruption and oppression. And yet even under the kingdoms of corrupt men, the kingdom of God continues on. There is a certain comfort in knowing that our mission as a church has not changed in the last two-thousand years, or the last two hundred, or since last week. So today I want to take a brief look at the question of “How then do we live?” How do we continue to live as children of the kingdom of heaven while living in a kingdom of earth? How do we live as children of God under the rule of men?

1. Grieve

It is okay to be angry, to be sorrowful. Injustice breaks God’s heart too. Emotion is a natural response to brokenness in the world. What matters is how we respond to that emotion. But feeling it is good; if you saw or experienced injustice and felt nothing, it’s probably a sign you’re growing desensitized to suffering, which can feel safer but is actually more concerning. If injustice or tragedy occurs, as Christians it is natural to feel and express the weight of that brokenness.

So I want to take a look first at God’s view of injustice, about those he repeatedly says to take care of in society, and why.

Jeremiah 22:3

Deuteronomy 10:17-19

Zechariah 7:8-12

Ezekiel 22:6-7

Malachi 3:5

Jeremiah 7:5-8

Psalm 146

Again and again, this is God’s stance: protect the foreigners, the fatherless, and the widows. Stand up for those who are in need. These are the people who were vulnerable in society. Especially in the agricultural, patriarchal society of the Old Testament, the fatherless and widows had no way to take care of themselves without a family or property; foreigners, too, often were without land of their own and were often treated unfairly and with disdain. (Think of the story of Ruth and how rare it was that Boaz treated her, a foreigner, with such generosity).

The parallels to our current society are obvious, and it is interesting to note that, unfortunately, what we’re experiencing is nothing new. It is also interesting to note what the beginning of Psalm 146 says: “Do not put your trust in nobles, in man, who cannot save.” If the current government wants to work in cooperation to help the poor and marginalized in society, then great, but if not, that doesn’t change our mission as a church. Our hope is not in government or human leaders. Our hope, instead, is with God and with what he calls his church to do on earth.

2. Stand up for the weak and vulnerable

God cares for the weak and the vulnerable; for the marginalized and the minorities in society. If these are things which matter to God, what are what are we going to do about it?

James 1:27. Pure and faultless religion: take care of the vulnerable and don’t be corrupted by the world. This is, according to James, the practical living out of our religion.

James 2. The first half of chapter is about living in a just and fair manner; about not discriminating against people based on what they can offer us. But he goes further. He says it isn’t enough to just believe these things. It isn’t enough to just talk about loving one another. It has to be connected to action.

James 2:15-17. We can't just say "Good luck, I hope things turn out ok for you." A stationary, intellectual concern for another's well-being is no concern at all; true compassion is active. In the same way, faith that does not reach out and take hold of the gift of salvation from God is as good as dead.

So James is saying that we live out the mission of the church by caring for the vulnerable and that caring for them means more than nice words. This means taking a stand with them and for them through both our words and actions. It is our responsibility as Christians to stand up for those who are outnumbered, for those who are vulnerable, for those who are being discriminated against.

I believe this also means standing up for both those you agree with and those you may not agree with. The story of the Good Samaritan is not a story about one Christian helping another who completely agrees with him. It is the story of caring for someone you disagree with. The Jews and Samaritans had distinctly different views of what it meant to follow God. It means putting your life at risk to stop and help someone in a dangerous position; also putting your money out there to support them. We are called to come and stand beside those in our society who are discriminated against and who are afraid – regardless of whether we agree with them or not.

This means we stand up for the Muslims. We stand up for the poor. We stand up for immigrants. We stand up for women. We stand up for blacks. We stand up for the LGBTQ community. We stand up for and with all these children of God. If we really believe, as our vision statement says, that this church is a place where ALL people can encounter Jesus, that means that we must do more than speak these words, we must show them to be true in our actions, in who we welcome into our doors and how we treat people in the streets.

And we must go further than this. Because God calls us to love our enemies – even the oppressors of the weak and vulnerable we’re trying to protect.  It doesn’t mean you have to support them, but because we know that our fight is not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers of darkness, we recognize that even the oppressors are also children of God. And that means that we fight with love – a love that listens and seeks to understand and that calls them towards justice. We love the oppressor, not by letting them do whatever they want, but by opposing them in firm but non-violent ways, and by seeking their good, even as we seek to protect the oppressed.

3. Proclaim a message of justice and hope

But if we’re honest, and if this world is all we have, in the end, there is one oppressor we cannot protect people from, and that is death.  

We do our best to make this world good, but we also recognize that it will one day end. For me, this doesn’t take away the urgency and importance of the cause of justice in our world, but it does remove some of the unbearable weight of despair that comes from looking at the impossibility of resolving every case of injustice we face. There is hope, not just that God will one day return, but that in the Second Coming of Jesus, he will bring an end to the rule of men and all the corruption therein.

This is what we proclaim as Adventists. Contained within the Three Angels’ Messages are promises of justice. These are proclamations of hope. Promises of the good God is about to accomplish.

Revelation 14:7 “Fear God and give him glory, because the hour of his judgment has come.” A promise! The God who is a defender of the weak, of the fatherless, widows, and foreigners is coming to judge and to bring about justice. (We are sometimes uncomfortable with God as judge; yet we also look at suffering and complain that God isn’t doing anything. God will do something as judge once and for all when he returns, and until then you and I are his hands and feet for justice).

Revelation 14:8 “Babylon is fallen!” A promise! That corrupt religious systems will fall. That systems which do not show and live the true love of God’s gospel will come to an end. I was asked this week why some people don’t seem open to the hope of the Second Coming even in light of these times. So much religious rhetoric has been used to justify injustice, it can be hard for people to see the good in religion. Why would they look forward to the return of a God who is represented by many of his people as hating and seeking their destruction? Jesus promises that these false portrayals of him will soon be judged, removed, and forgotten. Only the truth will remain. Until then, it is our responsibility to keep proclaiming the truest view of a God of love and justice we know.

Revelation 14:9-10 “Anyone who worships the beast and his image and receives a mark on his forehead or on his hand” will be destroyed. A promise! Not just religious systems, but all who are workers of oppression and injustice (which is the outworking of false religious systems and false portrayals of the character of God) will fall. God will one day bring about total justice and peace.

We get to decide now, before that day comes, if we want to be a part of that world or not. This is why God calls out to us in Revelation 18:4 “Come out of her, my people…” A promise! And an invitation. God calls his people out of corruption into freedom. He calls us into relationship with him, and promises to bring about everlasting peace. We don’t have to place our hopes in false religious and worldly systems; we can place our hope in God.

Conclusion: God is calling you to stand up. He is calling for you to grieve over what grieves him. He is calling you to stand up for the oppressed. He is calling you to tell the world about his promises for justice in his return, and invite them into a relationship with the only true and fair judge who is coming to bring unending peace to this world. Will you stand with the God who stands for you?

It has been almost two weeks since the horrific mass shooting of the LGBTQ community in Orlando. It still weighs heavily on me, not just the tragedy itself but also many of the hateful reactions that have come in response, especially in the name of Christianity.

In our church, we are studying the book of Genesis together. These past two weeks we've been looking at the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. This seems especially relevant in light of what happened at the Pulse nightclub since many Christians have traditionally held the interpretation that the primary sin resulting in the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah was homosexuality. I wanted to take a look and see what the Bible actually had to say. I haven’t studied this in depth by any means, but here are a few quick notes on what I discovered.

 

1. Ezekiel 16:49 identifies the sins of Sodom as "pride, fullness of food, and abundance of idleness; neither did she strengthen the hand of the poor and needy." In verse 50 it says that they exalted themselves and “committed abomination.” Some think this refers to the verse in Leviticus about a man lying with another man. However, there is no evidence that this particular verse is being referenced, as there are many “abominations” listed in the Old Testament, such as sacrificing blemished animals, eating certain types of unclean meats, remarrying a former wife, greed, dishonest trade, etc.

2. In the actual story of Sodom and Gomorrah, where they threaten to rape the angels disguised as men, it says in Genesis 19:4 that "the men of the city, even the men of Sodom, compassed the house round, both old and young, all the people from every quarter.” The Hebrew word we translate as "men" here is really a more general word which can also be used to include both men and women, as seems to be indicated by the phrase at the end of the verse: "all the people." Even if the passage does refer only to men (which it seems improbable that all the men of Sodom were gay), it is strange that Lot would offer his daughters to them if they were all gay.

Thus, rather than being a story about homosexuality, it seems instead to be about men (and possibly women) with the intent to rape. This is, unfortunately, not an uncommon method for inflicting violence and humiliation on another person. There are countless cases of heterosexual men using rape against other men as a means to assert dominance over other men. In war, especially in ancient times, it was common for soldiers to rape their defeated enemy male soldiers. We also see this use of rape to dominate and humiliate in our world today, notably in but not limited to the prison system.

3. In Jude 7, it says that Sodom and Gomorrah had given themselves over to sexual immorality and had gone after “strange flesh.” Some have interpreted this to mean homosexual behavior. The word we translate as "strange" means "other, different" (ironically, the Greek word is heteros… so maybe the sin of Sodom was heterosexuality, right?). Actually, this is a somewhat obscure phrase with a variety of potential interpretations, most of which seemed lacking. However, there are some Hebrew words similar to this Greek one, which shed some light onto the translation. In passages like Judges 11:1-1 and Proverbs 7:5, the phrase “strange women” is used to refer to prostitutes, as in "other women," as in “other women than your wife.” This lends some credibility to the translation of the word "strange" as “other,” as in “other than what we are supposed to have” or “other than your spouse.” This could apply to any sexual deviation, including that which seems likely to be true of Sodom and Gomorrah: rape as a means of domination and humiliation.

In conclusion, from what I’ve found so far, the evidence for homosexuality as the reason for the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah is lacking at best, and likely nonexistent. Regardless of what you believe the Bible teaches about homosexuality, I think we’d all agree that it is important to be honest with the textual evidence. Too often we bring in our own cultural experiences and impose them over the actual context of a passage, usually without even realizing it.

Here’s why I think this matters. Sometimes this unawareness just leads to misinformation; other times it can lead to justification of misguided approaches to fellow human beings. This puts us more in line with the sins of Sodom listed in Ezekiel than we’d like to acknowledge. I know I’ve been guilty of this more times than I’d like to admit. But my hope is to keep learning and discovering more about what Jesus is really calling me to in life. I would welcome your company on this journey, whatever perspective you’re coming from, as we learn and grow and walk together.

(shared from DarkLight)

“Nicodemus, the man who earlier had visited Jesus at night… brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about seventy-five pounds.” (John 19:39)

Nicodemus, who first visited Jesus in secret, now comes to serve Jesus in the open. But Jesus is dead. Nicodemus proclaims his faith over a dead God.  In his own way, he proclaims faith in a dead God. Even more, in a dead God who, by all appearances, has failed to fulfill his promises.

That is a dark place to be. How do you have faith when the source of all light has gone out? How do you have faith when the things he has promised you are buried with him in a tomb? How do you have faith when God is dead?

 There is something profoundly beautiful about Nicodemus throwing his lot in with a man who claimed to be God but who was just crucified as a criminal. It feels like an act of defiance, like a bold stand taken against all the darkness and death that weigh heavy over all the earth.

I want to believe like that.

On the personally apocalyptic album Pale Horses, Aaron Weiss (lyricist/vocalist of mewithoutYou) sings, “This is not the first time God has died.” It is a powerful and helpful reminder. For those moments when the promises of God have not come through as expected, for those moments when all you hoped for is clutched securely in the hands of death, for those moments when God has died in your life, it is encouraging to remember that God has died before.

But the God who died also came back to life again. The tomb, not his promises, is empty. He will come back to life for you, too. Until then, however, you have an opportunity to stand courageously with Nicodemus and proclaim your belief in a dead God to fulfill all of his promises.

This is not the first time God has died. And it won’t be the first (or last) time he conquers death.

(shared from DarkLight)

I love the beginnings of stories. As characters are introduced and the plot begins to take shape, there is this delightful sense that something wonderful is about to unfold. One of my favorite story beginnings is from The Hobbit.

In the movie, there is this fantastic scene between Gandalf and Bilbo. The quest of the dwarves for claiming gold and conquering a dragon has been laid out, and Bilbo has been invited into this grand adventure. However, he has shrunk back at the magnitude of the risk involved. Gandalf is trying to convince him to abandon his rather meaningless life, sign the contract and join the quest. He tells the story of one of Bilbo’s ancestors who, although a hobbit, was also a great warrior. The scene concludes with the following dialogue:

Gandalf: You’ll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back.
Biblo: Can you promise that I will come back?
Gandalf: No. And if you do, you will not be the same.
Bilbo: That’s what I thought. Sorry, Gandalf, I can’t sign this. You’ve got the wrong Hobbit.

You can feel the tension so strongly here between who Bilbo is and who he could become. In the book it is especially clear that part of Bilbo longs for something more, and yet there is a part of him that thinks the cost is too great. And so he must decide: take the risk and gain the possibility of something far better than he has ever experienced, or play it safe and accept that this is as good as it gets.

Bilbo is not the only one to have faced such a decision. There was once a man, an invalid who lay by the pool of Bethesda, hoping for a miracle. For thirty-eight years he has been crippled. Then Jesus shows up and asks him a puzzling question: “Do you want to get well?” (John 5:6).

This question has always fascinated me. It seems a little insensitive at best, and completely ridiculous at worst. Imagine going into a hospital and asking a patient if they want to get better. But, of course, Jesus always asks the best questions. Not because he doesn’t know the answers, but because he is inviting us into discovery.

This question is deeper than it looks at first. “Do you want to get well?” The sad truth is not everyone does. Sometimes it is safer to stay sick. Because to hope for healing, to seek that kind of change is to risk. Risk looking like a fool. Risk getting your hopes dashed. Risk that the offer of a better life will not come true, leaving you more crushed than if you’d simply settled for less.

And so many do settle for less. But Jesus is always inviting us into more. Jesus opens the door for the invalid to enter into new life: “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk” (John 5:8).

The crippled man takes the risk and chooses to trust in Jesus. He gets up and walks into a challenging, complicated, yet beautiful story with Jesus. And somewhere far away in Middle Earth, Bilbo also finally chooses the better story - partly in order to prove himself, and partly because Gandalf gives him a little nudge in the right direction. (In Corey Olsen’s book, Exploring J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Hobbit,” he notes significantly that “Gandalf is not just a storyteller; he is a storymaker” [p. 19]).

Jesus is calling each of us into a better story, too. I think our questions are usually very similar to Bilbo’s: Can you promise I won’t get hurt? Can you promise it will be easy and comfortable? Can you promise it will be as I expect, with no surprises or detours? The answer is a definitive no. But you can know this for sure: you will never be the same. And you will be living a story worth telling. And whatever happens, you will be walking in the path of Jesus, the greatest storymaker ever.

“The men went back to Moses, Aaron, and the entire Israelite community in the Wilderness of Paran at Kadesh. They brought back a report for them and the whole community, and they showed them the fruit of the land. They reported to Moses: “We went into the land where you sent us. Indeed it is flowing with milk and honey, and here is some of its fruit. However, the people living in the land are strong, and the cities are large and fortified.

...So they gave a negative report to the Israelites about the land they had scouted: ‘The land we passed through to explore is one that devours its inhabitants, and all the people we saw in it are men of great size. ...To ourselves we seemed like grasshoppers, and we must have seemed the same to them.’” (Numbers 13:26-28, 32-33)

To me, this is one of the most heartbreaking moments in the Bible. It is evidence of the most tragic of truths: it is possible to taste the fruit of the Promised Land, and still turn back. It sounds impossible, but this is the power of fear and unbelief that can rob us of the greatest of gifts God offers us.

I don't know what your promised land is right now, what good God is leading you towards. But I know this: God has something in mind for you, some specific plan designed for you  Maybe you are on the edge of that promised land, for the first or final time. Maybe you are in the desert. Maybe you turned back. Or maybe it was the other ten who did. Wherever you are in your journey, listen to the lessons calling to you through this story.

1. Let go of dead weight

“How long?” It is the question that usually rises to the top as we wander in the desert. But to answer that, we first have to ask: what is the purpose of the desert? The purpose is death. You will wander in the desert until the unbelief that kept you from entering the Promised Land is dead. Don’t worry; this doesn’t mean you need to be perfect. The Israelites were far from even being good when they finally did cross the Jordan and conquered Jericho. But they placed their weak trust in his strong hands and followed him into the land flowing with milk and honey. 

Everyone twenty years old and over who had turned back at the first crossing had died in the 40 years of wandering in the desert. As a nation, that part that had rejected God’s plan for them had to die so that faith could be given a second chance. The same is true for us. Thank God, though, that we have Jesus who has taken all our deaths upon himself. In him, we can die and yet live. We can bury all that separates us from him in death. We can let go of the part of us that said no to his plan and let it die in the desert. Then we can rise again and move forward with Jesus towards the Promised Land again.

There is one more thing to consider about the desert. As we saw in this story, it is possible for you to be faithful to God’s plan (like Joshua and Caleb) and yet have others reject it. The somewhat terrifying reality of the free will God has given each of us is this: God’s promises and plans for you can sometimes be interrupted by the choices of other people. But remember this: the Promised Land is still there, and God will bring you to it again. Hang on to him, even through the disappointment and heartbreak along the way.  

If it is others in your life who turned away from God’s plan, one of two things will happen. They will either let their fear and unbelief die in the desert and choose trust, or they will choose the desert. And if they choose the desert, it is ok for you to let go, to shake the dust from your feet, and move on. Of course, this doesn’t mean you should treat anyone unkindly or judge them or conclude anything about where they are in their own journey. Nor should you come to this decision lightly or without much prayer and consideration. But it is ok - even good and necessary sometimes - for you, as a follower of God’s plan for you, to let the dead bury their own dead. You don’t have to yoke yourself to those who choose fear. You don’t have to choose those who choose the desert.

2. Find your Caleb

Which brings me to the next point. While there are people who will choose fear and unbelief in God’s promises, there are also those who will choose faith. Of the twelve spies, only Joshua and Caleb believed in God’s promises. Only these two survived the desert and took possession of the Promised Land 40 years later. I imagine during all those years of wandering, Caleb became very important to Joshua, especially as he began to be prepared for his leadership role. I imagine these two encouraged each other often, reminding each other that though God’s promises were delayed, they would not fail, and would certainly be fulfilled one day.

In a world of fear and unbelief, you need a Caleb. You need someone in your life who will be there, who will remind you that what God has promised is true, that the land he is leading you towards is good beyond imagination, and that God’s plans for you will come to fruition. Because there will be difficult times in the desert. There will be times of doubt. And a friend like Caleb who will stand by your side no matter what and help you keep your focus on Jesus is worth more than all the riches in the world.

3. Choose trust, not fear

This is the final and most important truth of this story. Because this is really what it all came down to for the twelve spies in the Promised Land. They looked at all the good and all the obstacles, and they were all faced with fear. The story doesn’t say that two saw only the good and ten saw only the bad. All twelve saw both the blessings and the obstacles. All faced fear, but ten chose that fear based on what they could see, while Joshua and Caleb chose to trust in what God could see and do.

Wherever you are in your journey, I am pleading with you: don’t turn back. I can guarantee you two things. First, there will be obstacles, because there always are along the path to good. But in God’s eyes, there are no obstacles he can’t overcome. There are giants, but do not fear the giants. God has a reputation for slaying giants. And the second thing I can guarantee: the plans God has for you are good. So good. Don’t be afraid. Have courage and take heart. God will not fail you.

Don't turn back. You are so close. And more importantly, God is close to you and he will not give up on you. Hold on to the good God has for you now and the great good he has in store for you in eternity. God is faithful. He will fulfill everything he has promised. Not one word will fail. God is faithful. Trust him.

“Joshua son of Nun and Caleb son of Jephunneh, who were among those who scouted out the land, tore their clothes and said to the entire Israelite community: “The land we passed through and explored is an extremely good land. If the Lord is pleased with us, He will bring us into this land, a land flowing with milk and honey, and give it to us. Only don’t rebel against the Lord, and don’t be afraid of the people of the land, for we will devour them. Their protection has been removed from them, and the Lord is with us. Don’t be afraid of them!’” (Numbers 14:6-9)

The sun sets on Bethlehem’s horizon, dragging with it the heat of the day. The dark and the chill of the night creep in, spread across the land, find their way through open windows, cracks in walls, find their way into skin and bones, make themselves at home. A people living in darkness kneel in darkness, heads bowed by a weight they cannot shake, and beg God for mercy. Beg him for a miracle. Plant yet more tears in the poisoned soil of their lives.

The first Christmas day has risen and fallen. The wait is over. Jesus is here. But for every joyful shepherd or seeking wiseman, there are thousands who go to sleep that night still waiting for their miracle. Still unaware that God has not only heard and answered, but become. Immanuel. Redemption has arrived.

The wait is over, yet still they wait. Still they wake in the middle of the night, plagued by trembling heart and aching soul. They cry out in the all too familiar refrain: “How long, Lord, how long?” For all they can see, the promise of God is still unfulfilled. For all they know, there is nothing to believe in but silence and emptiness.

Across town, the promise lays asleep in a manger. The miracle sleeps. Light asleep in darkness.

 

This will not be the last time Jesus sleeps. This will not be the last time the power of Jesus underwhelms, delays, displays itself as apparent inaction. The storms will come and Jesus will sleep in the sinking boat. The dead will be buried and Jesus will sleep for three more nights. The cross will kill and Jesus will sleep.

If I am honest, sometimes I wonder if he is sleeping still. We wait and wait and cry and beg for mercy. For miracle. We hang all our hopes on him and wonder if he will ever show up. Jesus sleeps and we resign ourselves to our inevitable end.

Christmas tells a different story: Immanuel, God with us now. Jesus has shown up, though maybe not in the way we expected. The promise has been fulfilled, even if our eyes can’t see it. The miracle is a reality long before we ever see the proof. Jesus sleeps, but the storm will be calmed, the dead will rise, all things will be redeemed.

“Though the fig tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
and no cattle in the stalls,
 yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.”

(Habakkuk 3:17-18)

“He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—

how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?”
(Romans 8:32)

Bridges and ships and safety nets,
long since left in ashes.

I find the edge again,
force broken bones to rise,
fall again.

-----------------------------------

 

As many of you know, I am not a big fan of most of what passes as CCM on the radio these days (or, for that matter, pretty much anything on the radio). But once in a while something comes out that strikes a chord in me, and this song struck me with this: defiance.

Yes, defiance. Don’t be fooled by appearances, or the way it sounds, or the fact that the Newsboys aren’t the Newsboys anymore. Listen to the opening lines:

“In this time of desperation

when all we know is doubt and fear
there is only one foundation:
 
We believe.
We believe.
We believe.”




Do you see it? Defiance against all that we see around us. And yet I couldn’t help but think: this is absurd. The song goes on to say all these different things we believe as Christians. Jesus. The Resurrection. The Second Coming. New life. These are things we believe in in spite of the fact that everything around us screams the opposite. The evidence we have, the facts we see cannot be ignored: desperation, doubt, and fear. And yet… we believe.

And yes, it is absurd. I understand why our critics scoff. It is as if we stand at the shore of the Red Sea with an Egyptian army bearing down on us and say, “We believe we can still escape… and defeat the enemy.” It is as if we stand in front of a fiery furnace and say, “We believe the flames will not burn us.” It is as if we kneel, crushed by the power of shame and sin, and say, “We believe grace is more than enough to raise us up again.”

Absurd… if we are wrong. But if we serve a God who performs last-minute rescues, if we serve a God who specializes in doing the impossible, if we serve a God whose love is the most powerful force in the universe… then absurdity becomes breathtaking power. All we see and know and can imagine is not the only reality. This is not as good as it gets. God is not done yet. He gets the last word.

“And the gates of hell will not prevail
for the power of God has torn the veil.
Now we know Your love will never fail.
We believe. We believe. We believe.”

So join with me and say: we believe.

If you are on the edge of something beautiful, say: we believe. If you are shattered in defeat, say: we believe. Wherever you are, whatever you face, say: we believe. Because there are blessings unseen in the hands of God just for you. It is terrifying, I know, but throw yourself into belief, fall into the unknown, and trust that Jesus will never fail you.

 We believe.

“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (John 20:29).