Mold

Last night I had the unfortunate experience of finding mold in my coffeemaker.  I am fairly committed to my daily cups of coffee, so this was a troubling experience for me.

I've only had this coffeemaker a few years, and it was moderately expensive because of several appealing features, like the "rich brew" setting and the ability to make one cup at a time without using pods. At the same time, I am avidly mold averse. To be fair, I'm not sure that there is anyone who likes mold, but what I mean is that my tolerance of mold is very low.  I have thrown away many things, because of mold sightings, that probably could have been cleaned.  However, I knew I could not throw away my coffeemaker.  Instead, I found a way to clean the machine (actually, to clean it several times), and I thanked God for letting me find the mold before it caused any harm.

But it also begged the question: what was I doing wrong? I've had the machine for several years, and I have never seen mold before.  I considered what actions had changed recently, and I decided to not do those things anymore so that my coffeemaker would remain clean.

In chapter 6 of 1 Corinthians, Paul addresses inappropriate behavior among the believers.  He encourages them to settle matters under the guidance of another believer instead of taking each other to court.  He tells them to consider allowing themselves to be wronged instead of wronging another believer.  These are hard words to accept.  Does God want them to be taken advantage of?  Shouldn't they want justice for these wrongdoings?  Paul further clarifies:

"Or do you not know that wrongdoers will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor men who have sex with men nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. And that is what some of you were. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God." (1 Corinthians 6:9-11, emphasis mine)

Paul makes it very clear: The believers were once one way; now they should be another way. God had washed the mold off their hearts and those moldy ways should no longer be practiced.

I was hesitant to write about my mold discovery.  I feared a friend would read this and never accept a cup of coffee at my house again.  Similarly, I am often fearful of sharing the stories of my spiritual mold, those parts that aren't so pretty and need God's touch, but I cling to the promise that Paul gave the Corinthians:  I have been washed, I have been sanctified, and I have been justified through Christ and the Spirit. Thank you, Jesus!

FMF: Perspective

I delayed participating in the Five Minute Friday writing community today because I couldn’t wrap my mind around what to write about. I suppose you could say my perspective wasn't right.  However, as He often does, God spoke to me when I least expected Him.

In my sociology class we’ve been learning about social standing. Sociologically, your status is the various characteristics that make you who you are. It's the "position a person occupies in a particular setting." For example, at home I am a mother, so I behave as one, but in class I am a student. I do not act like a mother in class because my position is different. Most also have a master status, something that carries across all social settings, such as "male", "felon", or "doctor".

In the New Testament church, the believers were struggling with the conflict between their statuses. The previously-Jewish believers and the previously-gentile believers were arguing about what mattered and what didn’t. Paul wrote to the church in Galatia that "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free man, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus" (Galatians 3:28, NASB).

If we are believers, out master status is found in Christ. All of those other areas of our life shape us, but the single identifying factor is that we are believers of Christ. In that regard Christ has redefined our perspective of ourselves.





This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday and was written in approximately five minutes. For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.

Little Man

One of the things that I miss about church while we shelter-in-place is teaching our children.  It's sometimes exhausting, often surprising, and always a blessing.  I'm thankful that my church team is working together to remotely present the gospel to our youngest visitors, but it's not quite the same as being together in person. Today, I felt that void a little more than I have other weeks.  Our curriculum was on the Sunday School classic, Zacchaeus.  Oh, poor Zacchaeus.  He's the Napolean of the Bible.  We miss the wonder of his encounter with Jesus because we get wrapped up in one little detail: Zacchaeus was a wee little man (a wee little man was he).

The Gospel of Luke tells the story like this:

Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through. A man was there by the name of Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was wealthy. He wanted to see who Jesus was, but because he was short he could not see over the crowd. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore-fig tree to see him, since Jesus was coming that way.
When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly.
All the people saw this and began to mutter, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.”
But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.”
Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” (Luke 19:1-10, NIV)

In modern days, we focus on the fact that he was short, and I understand why.  It's a great image to think of a grown man climbing a tree to see who's passing by in a crowd.  Like other gospel encounters, we read about a person who was curious about Jesus. I love how verse 3 says "He wanted to see who Jesus was." Maybe he wanted to size up (pun intended) this man he's been hearing about. Maybe he wanted to see one of His famous miracles.  Or maybe, just maybe, the message of Jesus was already beginning to do a work in his heart.  I'm thankful for the Zacchaeus-es of the world, who are willing to do silly things, undignified things, to see who Jesus is.

But the story isn't really about a short, wealthy man who was willing to climb a tree.  The story is about the Savior who was passing through Jericho, who was surrounded by a crowd, and who knew to look to an unlikely spot to find the man who was truly searching for Him. Jesus had previously promised the people, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened" (Matthew 7:7-8, NIV). Zacchaeus was acting on these words.

Do you think Zaccheaus climbed the tree reluctantly?  I don't think he climbed it saying, "Well, I guess I'll climb this tree if that's what I have to do."  No, I think he was excited that a solution existed. I envision a movie moment.  Zacchaeus is being pushed and shoved in the crowd, maybe getting an elbow to the head.  He stands on his tip toes, but still can't see over the people around him.  Then the crowds part ever so slightly, and he sees the tree (maybe there is a light shining down on it). He pushes through the people to the tree, and he's thankful that he has the opportunity to climb the tree.

When I read a story like this, I usually ask myself what I am willing to do to see Christ.  I think a better question is what I want to do to see Christ.  Paul tells the believers in Corinth that "you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver" (1 Corinthians 9:7, NIV).  Similarly, God doesn't want us to climb the sycamore trees in our life "reluctantly or under compulsion."  We should love climbing the trees that let us see Jesus.

FMF: Another

“A new command I give you: Love one another.

As I have loved you, so you must love one another. 

By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” 

(John 13:34-35, NIV) 

"Another" is one of those easily ignored words in the English language.  We use it without giving it much thought.  It's something we say or write without having to look up the definition or remind ourselves how to properly use in a sentence.

"Another" has two meanings: Additional (like "Have another cookie") and Different (like "Pick another cookie").

When Christ tells us to "love one another" in Scripture, there are two types of people who we need to love.  Those who are like us, an additional person in our type.  Those who are different from us.

As Christ said in Luke 6:32-36, if we only love those who are like us, what credit is there?  Anyone can do that.

Today I will chose to love another person, whether it comes easily or with great sacrifice.

Today I will chose to love another person, whether they are family or strangers.

Today I will chose to love another person, whether I want to or not.

Then I will love another, and then another.




This post is a prompt from Five Minute Friday and was written in approximately five minutes. For more information, visit fiveminutefriday.com.

Grain, Oil, and Wine

It's quiet at my house today. My husband is asleep.  My older son is walking the dog on one of the hour long walks to which she has become accustomed. My younger son is doing what can only be described as a prison yard workout in his bedroom for his PE class.

I'm working on laundry. I've already washed a load of delicates, which, upon finishing, I discovered could be hung out to dry because it is such a beautiful day. I have an eastern facing door that is perfect for drying laundry in the early part of the day. I felt the sun and gentle breeze come through that door, and soon all the other doors and windows were opened too. I heard it is supposed to rain later this week, but today is the essence of spring, at least the spring I have in my mind.  In reality, spring is transition from winter to summer and is often filled with rain.  The rain makes what I think of as "spring" possible.

Just after the Israelites received the ten commandments, there is a passage I often miss because it lives in the shadow of the law. The Israelites are told:

"So if you faithfully obey the commands I am giving you today — to love the Lord your God and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul —  then I will send rain on your land in its season, both autumn and spring rains, so that you may gather in your grain, new wine and olive oil.  I will provide grass in the fields for your cattle, and you will eat and be satisfied" (Deuteronomy 11:13-15, NIV).

In a nutshell: If they obey God, He will send rain. He will take care of them. The command listed here is the essence of the ten commandments, "to love the Lord your God and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul."  This is THE law, and all other law provides guidance for people to fulfill this one. Is it any wonder why Jesus called this the greatest commandment in Matthew 22:34-40?  Love God, and He'll take care of me? That sounds like a great deal. However, things were about to get hard.

The difficulty is not in the exposition of the law, which would continue for several chapters of Deuteronomy and include everything from dietary restrictions to debt laws. Nor is the difficult part that these people were living in the desert. In fact, it is just the opposite.  The challenge would be moving back into the city.

In the desert, they had nothing but God to focus on. Yet, when their leader left to receive instruction from God, it took less than forty days to be led astray into worshiping a self-made golden calf (Exodus 32, Deuteronomy 9:7-12). Here in California, it has been 28 days since Governor Newsom issued our Stay At Home order to prevent the spread of coronavirus. There is uncertainty, and every day brings new questions. We are in desert land, and many feel helpless.  Some, I fear, have made themselves golden calves. If we are anything like the Israelites, the hard part is yet to come.

God repeatedly warns these people that they are about to go into a new land. They will move out of the desert, and to the life they dream of, the life they want. It will be even better than their time in Egypt because they will no longer be slaves.  They will be free.  They will be free to determine how their days are spent. They will be free to raise their children how they see fit.  They will be free to structure the details of their lives. When Deuteronomy 11:31-32 says, "You are about to cross the Jordan to enter and take possession of the land the Lord your God is giving you. When you have taken it over and are living there, be sure that you obey all the decrees and laws I am setting before you today" it is both a promise and a warning.

We, too, will eventually leave this desert and return to a place that feels much more familiar. We will be presented with pleasures that feel long forgotten.  We are the ones who saw God's hand at work, and we must decide if we will receive the grain, oil, and wine that God is supplying.