Love Edifies

In my college years, I was part of a small group of students who were intense in our devotion to God and our desire to grow in our faith. At one point, I was attending five Bible studies a week. I just couldn't get enough.

Even now, I look back on that period of my Christian journey with such warmth and gratitude. The relationships I formed have a kind of "eternal" quality. Even when I haven't seen someone from that group for many years, if we happen to see each other, we share an instant bond.

But there was one aspect of my attitude from that time that I am glad to leave in the past. It was a kind of "holier-than-thou" attitude, a sectarianism that gave me a sense of spiritual superiority and that kept me from being able to enjoy fellowship with the rest of the big "C" Church. I was sure I knew the "truth" and that nobody else had it quite the way I did.

If I happened to visit a church, I would definitely not enjoy myself. Nor would I experience God's presence. I was too busy criticizing everything that went on. To quote Doc Holliday from the movie, Tombstone, "My hypocrisy [knew] no bounds." I was busy pointing out all the specks in the eyes of everyone else, while I sat there with a plank sticking out of mine. It became impossible for me to last very long at one church without collapsing under the weight of my own lumberyard headgear.

Eventually, after living away from church life in general, we found our way to the Anaheim Vineyard. I am grateful to my former pastor, architect of the Vineyard movement, John Wimber. In one of the first messages I remember, he helped me to understand something very simple: God loves all believers and he simply calls us to love everyone whom He loves.

This is the meaning of Paul's statement: "Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up" (1 Cor. 8: 1b). In discussing the controversial and divisive subject of eating meat offered to idols, Paul frames the basis for all of his ethics. If you are simply motivated by a sense of superior knowledge, you will feel good about yourself, but the church will not be benefited. Instead, ethical action should be primarily based on love, which builds up the church. This is why Paul has decided to refrain from any activity that might cause a weaker brother to stumble. (vs. 13)

Jesus prays for the church that we would experience just such love: "May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me" (John 17: 23).

Put simply: We are called to love everyone God loves. If God loves them, it's good enough for me.

Thus, Jesus' new commandment given to the disciples in the Upper Room at the Last Supper. "A new command I give to you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this will all [people] know that you are my disciples, if you love one another" (John 13: 34-35).

I am grateful to be planting a church in a city with a wonderfully united group of churches. Eleven of us, all pastors, were recently able to get away for a 24-hour retreat. We shared our lives and prayed for one another. That was followed recently by a united worship event near Easter. Thirteen churches were represented. Each pastor introduced and led prayer for another pastor. The love for one another was evident.

The picture of heaven that we are given in Revelation is dominated by an incredible unity. People from "every nation, tribe, people and language" (Rev. 7: 9) are gathered around the throne to worship God together. Unity is a sign of the Kingdom of God.

Why not try something yourself? Think about someone you might disagree with or you might be very different from or who rattles your sensibilities. Then ask yourself this question: "Does God love them?" And if the answer is "Yes," and it is hard to think of a time when it would be otherwise, then make the decision to love them too. Don't you think that would go a long way to sowing peace among us?

Good and Evil

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was hanged on April 9, 1945, at the age of 39, for conspiring to assassinate Adolf Hitler. Hitler committed suicide on April 30 and seven days later, Germany surrendered.

Bonhoeffer, one of the brightest pastoral theologians of 20th century Germany, was a committed pacifist. But he reasoned: "If I see a madman driving a car into a crowd of innocent bystanders, then I can't, as a Christian, simply wait for the catastrophe and then comfort the wounded and bury the dead. I must try to wrestle the steering wheel out of the hands of the driver."

In so many ways, the kind of moral clarity demonstrated by Bonhoeffer has been driven from our post-modern culture. It takes horrendous acts, like 9/11, or the Boston Marathon bombings, to remind us that there really is such a thing as good and evil.

Isaiah says: "Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter" (Isa. 5: 20).

Prior to the 9/11 terrorist attacks, you would be hard-pressed to find the word "evil" in the New York Times or on ABC World News Tonight. But there was a marked increase in the use of this word following those tragedies. There seemed to be no other way to discuss such horrific devastation that was intentionally inflicted on innocents.

Yet our post-modern worldview seems intent on finding meaning in relativism. "One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter." "You can't really judge someone else without understanding their motivation." "They must have been abused as a child." We cannot comprehend that something might be evil, even if there are also causal factors.

And so, there seems to be a rush to find a motivation that would explain how someone could justify such abhorrent behavior. "Maybe they are part of an oppressed group."

But in order to be a moral people, we must accept the reality of good and evil. This only happens if we believe in an ultimate source of what is good: God Himself. Without understanding that there is a God and that He is Good, we will continue to devolve into moral relativism. In that world, we will stop using the word "evil." But at what cost?

"For, 'Whoever would love life and see good days must keep his tongue from evil and his lips from deceitful speech. He must turn from evil and do good; he must seek peace and pursue it. For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their prayer, but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.'" (1 Pet. 3: 10-12).

The Trinity

One of the most difficult points of Christian doctrine to wrap one's head around is the Trinity. Growing up as a good Presbyterian kid, I accepted that there was one God, and three persons. Yet, how that could possibly be seemed impossible to explain.

Sunday school teachers would use various "analogies": an egg has a shell, white and yolk, yet is one egg; water can exist as solid, liquid and gas, yet is all water; a person can be a father, a son and a husband, yet be one man.

Such analogies all have weaknesses. They either emphasize the one-ness so much that the three-ness is lost. Or they emphasize the three-ness so much that the one-ness is lost. This was the problem that the early church theologians encountered as they grappled with the problem.

But you might ask, why is it even a problem? Why even posit such a theological Gordian's knot? The word "trinity" does not appear in the Bible, but was first coined by Tertullian in the early third century. Isn't this an example of the corruption of early church beliefs?

We can blame the Bible for this controversy. The New Testament begins with an incredible scene: Jesus is being baptized and, coming up out of the water, the Holy Spirit descends on him like a dove and the Father speaks from heaven, "This is my Son, whom I love: with him I am well pleased" ( Matt: 3: 16-17). Matthew's Gospel ends with Jesus commanding believers to baptize "in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit" (Matt. 28: 19).

Actually, if you study the early development of church theology, the two issues that occupied a lot of intense debate were somewhat interrelated: The Christological and the Trinitarian debates. Both of these debates were attempts to understand the biblical witness. Scripture treated Jesus as a man, yet he was worshiped as God. And God was presented as One, yet the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit are all presented as God, equal to one another, while retaining their distinctiveness.

The first debate issue can be stated thus: "What was the nature of Jesus' relationship to God?" The early counsels ended up giving us the boundaries of orthodoxy, called the "hypostatic union," but not necessarily how it works. "When you teach about Jesus' humanity, you cannot forget his full divinity. When you teach about his divinity, you cannot lose his full humanity. Jesus Christ is one substance with two natures."

The Trinitarian issue can be stated thus: "What is the relationship between Father/Son/Spirit and God?" The early counsels ended up giving the boundaries of orthodoxy in a similar way. "When you talk about the three-ness of God, you cannot lose the one-ness. When you teach about the one-ness of God, you can't lose the distinction of the three-ness. God is one substance, yet has three natures (which we translate "persons")."

I recently heard a great YouTube explanation of the Trinity by Ravi Zacharias to a Mormon audience (see below). He quotes C. S. Lewis (who was probably inspired by Augustine) in using the analogy of love as a strong philosophical argument for the NECESSITY of the doctrine of the Trinity. Let me summarize the argument:

1. Humanity demonstrates love for others as part of our nature. How else to explain why people would give up their own safety to reach out to others in need?

2. Love itself demonstrates an inherent relational element in the created. There must be a relationship between the one who loves and the one who is loved. And you could also posit that the love itself is a necessary third element.

3. "God is love" (1 John 4: 8 & 16). For God, in his eternal existence, to be love, all the necessary elements for love must be inherent in his very nature. Thus relationship is inherent in the "Godhead." And love is triadic by nature. A radical monism cannot explain how "God is love" can be true apart from Creation. A radical monism cannot explain how loving creatures, created in His image, must live in loving community to fully reflect the imago dei.

Take a moment to watch this video. It will be worth the time.

Ravi Zacharias on The Trinity

Reviewing "The Bible" Mini-Series

I am a total fan of Middle Earth--a kind of Lord of the Rings nerd. I first read the books in 6th grade and have read them many times since. I lost count at 25 times many years ago. I just read them again this last year.

So, when Peter Jackson's version of The Fellowship of the Ring came out about 12 years ago, I rushed to see it. My wife asked if I liked it. "I think it was a good movie, but I'm not sure if I like it yet," I answered. You see, I knew the books so well that I could not yet enjoy the movie. The medium of film imposes certain limitations, but also certain creative possibilities, that are different than the written word. So, it was not until the 4th viewing that I began to really enjoy the movie as well.

Still, I would like to know how Jackson would do "Tom Bombadil."

This is kind of where I'm at with The Bible, the five-part mini-series that aired on consecutive Sundays on the History Channel and culminating last weekend, on Easter Sunday.

I have read the Holy Bible many times. And I have a daily reading program that gets me through the entire Bible pretty much every year. So, I am immersed in God's Word. And since I am a pastor, I am also weekly writing messages (and this blog) in a way that tries to communicate God's message.

So, I have mixed feelings about the film that I viewed the last 5 weeks. Overall, I really enjoyed getting the grand sweep of God's story in a way that lifted me above the minutia of the "begets" and "thou shalt nots." God created this world and humankind with a purpose. We have an enemy who has tried to pull us away from God. But there is story after story of God's faithful love being expressed through people like Abraham, Moses, Joshua, Samson, Samuel, David, Daniel, Jesus, Mary, Peter, Paul and John. And his plan culminated in the resurrection of Jesus so that He is now being proclaimed through his disciples.

I cried like a baby several times as the reality of certain Bible stories just washed over me. Abraham relieved that God's test was satisfied and he did not have to sacrifice Isaac. Jesus telling the story of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector to Matthew and then calling him to follow. Jesus on the cross. Paul being healed by Ananias. John on the isle of Patmos.

And I was very happy to note that 10 million people watched the first episode, and that it had the potential to start conversations all over about what the Bible actually teaches. And perhaps the commercials for free Bible apps would result in actual Bible reading.

My complaints are really just a kind of knowing sadness. That some people will watch the movies and think that they now understand the Book. Angels are like ninja-assassins. The Ark of the Covenant just sat under a wispy pop-up tent in a way that Joshua could walk up to. That Jesus said "We're going to change the world." (That one is right next to "God helps those that help themselves" in 1st Hezekiah.)

I recently wrote a blog about "Reaching the Shallows and Going Deep" (2/27/13). There is a growing tendency to "scan" a topic in a way that gives us a shallow understanding of an issue. But if you really want to understand God and His ways, do you think He can be grasped in a shallow way? If He really is the God of the Universe, how can anyone be satisfied with the Cliff Notes?

Let us accept films for what they can do: capture a theme, convey a plot, touch us emotionally by helping us humanize the characters. But let us progress from there to a deeper understanding, which begins with a plan to read, study and meditate on the Word of God for ourselves. It is the Bible that was "God-breathed" (2 Tim. 3: 16), not the script for a movie version. If we really want to hear from God, we must spend time reading His Word.

"I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you" (Ps. 119: 11).

"Your word is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my path" (Ps. 119: 105).

"The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul;
The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy, making wise the simple;
The precepts of the LORD are right, giving joy to the heart;
The commands of the LORD are radiant, giving light to the eyes;
The fear of the LORD is pure, enduring forever;
The ordinances of the LORD are sure and altogether righteous.
They are more precious than gold, than much pure gold;
They are sweeter than honey; than honey from the comb.
By them is your servant warned; in keeping them there is great reward" (Psalm 19: 7-11).

Can I Lose My Salvation?

In my last entry, I discussed the theological tension between the concept of God's Sovereignty and man's Free Will. You might find it helpful to read that entry before this one ("The Sovereignty vs. Free Will Debate", March 27, 2013).

Once we have concluded that, "Yes, God is sovereign and mankind has the freedom to accept or reject Him," we are left with a dilemma: "Once saved, can I become 'unsaved'? And can I really know if I am saved?" This is actually a question for pastoral theology. That is, how can we help people to find a sense of assurance in their salvation so that they are not continually in a state of anxiety? Does God really intend our faith-walk to be more like a pogo-stick ride?

There are several issues connected to this anxiety. First, just because we are saved does not mean that we are sinless. The Greek word for "sin" comes from archery and means "to miss the mark." That is, no human being has been made perfect (except for Jesus) and thus, unable to miss the mark of God's holiness. Therefore, since we all fall short of perfect holiness, God has provided a way to deal with it so that it does not derail our walk with God.

"If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1: 8-9).

"My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if any of you does sin, we have one who speaks to the Father in our defense--Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but for the sins of the whole world" (1 John 2: 1-2).

Second is a question: "Does my salvation rest in my ability to keep myself saved or in God's ability to save me?" Here is where most of our anxiety comes from. If keeping myself saved is a case of trying to maintain the right attitude, then there is very little hope for me. I am incapable of saving myself. Only God can save me. Therefore, only God can keep me saved.

Paul's struggle with sin helps us understand this dynamic in Romans 7: 7-25. He describes the internal struggle between the flesh and his desire to live a holy life. In his own strength, this is impossible.

"Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ my Lord!" Rom. 7: 24-25).

Related to this is the problem of doubts. If I experience doubts about my faith, does that mean I am no longer saved?

I like to say that doubts actually are indications that you DO have faith. Only someone who believes in God and His goodness will experience the cognitive dissonance that occurs when reality bites. Job is perhaps the best example. Most of the book is the story of his struggle with how to reconcile his suffering with the idea that God is good and just. But just because he struggled did not invalidate his righteous standing before God, who commends him at the end of the book.

Hebrews chapter eleven is called the "roll-call of faith." But notice how scary and doubt-filled each person's walk was. Abraham did not feel like Superman as he left his home, but he was going in response to faith, "even though he did not know where he was going" (Heb. 11: 8)

Third, there are some passages, most notably Hebrews 6: 4-6, that seem to indicate that we might backslide and become apostate to such a degree that we can't ever be saved again. For that reason, I will give a little time to unpacking this text.

Hebrews is a book that is like a series of sermonettes, each of them including a warning for those who might not take heed. In chapter six, the writer wants to expound on the teaching about the priesthood of Melchizedek, but he is afraid that his readers are not grounded enough in the basics of the faith. Thus, he warns them not to get so lax that they backslide into their pre-Christian faith (which may have been Judaism or Paganism). Doing so would be a rejection of Christ and would ruin what they had seemed to attain to such a degree that they might as well join in with those who were responsible for crucifying Jesus in the first place.

The writer is presenting a "straw-man" argument. Hypothetically, someone could seem to be a Christian, to the degree that they actually participate fully in the community of faith, but then turn away in a way that is beyond repair.

But would such a person have really been saved in the first place? I think the answer is "no." Listen to John as he writes about apostates in Asia Minor who turned away from the faith and became persecutors of the church during his time:

"They went out from us, but they really did not belong to us. For if they had belonged to us, they would have remained with us; but their going showed that none of them belonged to us" (1 John 2: 19).

Thus, true believers will persevere in the faith over the long haul.

Going back to Hebrews, the writer turns from the hypothetical to the practical. "It is impossible for [those who become apostate] to be brought back to repentance..." (Heb. 6: 4-6). He compares these apostates to those who are like seeds planted among thorns and thistles (recalling the Parable of the Sower). But then he says, "Even though we speak like this [giving a hypothetical warning], dear friends, we are confident of better things in your case--things that accompany salvation" (vs. 9).

You see, apostasy is proof that the person never was saved in the first place. That is, they had never really completed the transaction of faith that resulted in them being born again. Once the new birth occurs, the individual has something called "eternal life." It is called "eternal" because it is a new quality of life that lasts forever, and thus, cannot end.

So why did the writer give such a harsh warning if he doesn't think they are apostates? "We want each of you to show this same diligence to the very end, in order to make your hope sure. We do not want you to become lazy, but to imitate those who through faith and patience inherit the promises" (vv. 11-12).

Thus, there is little evidence that Hebrews is describing anything that actually was happening. It is more a warning to be diligent in pursuing one's growth in the faith. To read this passage and then obsess over the security of my own salvation is to get out of it something that it did not intend. I believe God wants us to feel an assurance that, if we have given our lives to Him, then we belong to Him and our standing rests on His finished work, and not in our imperfect ability to save ourselves.

"I give [my sheep] eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand" (John 10: 28). Perhaps its time to enjoy the assurance that you belong to Him and that you have received "eternal life." That means, it will never end.

The Sovereignty vs. Free Will Debate

John Calvin

For the last 500 years, the Protestant movement has debated an issue that defined a major theological divide: "Once someone is saved, can they lose their salvation?"

Underlying this issue is the deeper debate: "To what degree does God's sovereign will determine our fate compared to our own free will?" Or really, "In light of the fact that God is sovereign, can we really have freedom when it comes to our salvation?"

This blog will begin the discussion, focusing on God's sovereignty vs. humanity's free will.

Before I plunge in to this question, let me say that this issue is becoming less and less important and divisive. People who land on either side of the divide are becoming less polarized and more able to listen to the other side and still maintain fellowship. This is a very good thing. It is important for us to realize that believers can thoughtfully and prayerfully end up disagreeing and still be friends. So, let us remember the old adage: "On the essentials--unity; on the non-essentials--liberty."

Of course the earliest debates were between followers of Arminius and Calvin. The Remonstrants (who were Arminians) outlined their objection to Calvin by defining 5 points that they debated. These became the Five Points of Calvinism, which we now remember using the mnemonic, TULIP. Total Depravity, Unconditional Election, Limited Atonement, Irresistible Grace and Perseverance of the Saints.

To summarize the debate: Calvin stressed the Sovereignty of God: "Since God is omnipotent, omniscient, etc., His will rules in everything so that salvation is determined by Him and the individual cannot override it. Human freedom is an illusion. You do not have the power to lose your salvation since God's will determines whether or not you are saved. I might as well relax and let God do what God is going to do."

Jacob Arminius

Arminians stressed the Free Will of humans: "God has gifted mankind with free will and so, He makes Himself a powerless observer of human choices. God is anxiously thinking: 'Will Mark choose me? Will Mark reject me?' God's will has been self-neutralized in such a way that I can now choose to believe and subsequently choose not to believe. I am left with a nagging sense of insecurity about my salvation: have I really repented adequately? Do I need to get saved again?"

The preponderance of New Testament passages seem to support the Calvinist position. For instance: "You do not believe me because you are not my sheep. My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life [not probationary], and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand" (John 10: 26-29).

And: "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rom. 8: 38-39).

I could go on and on with similar passages. The person who would argue against Calvin must adequately deal with the Biblical use of the terms of "election," "foreknowledge," "predestination," "eternal life," "salvation," etc. Personally, I lean towards a modified Calvinism.

But there are a couple of passages that seem to teach the possibility of one being saved and then losing one's salvation. Most important of these passages is in Hebrews: "It is impossible for those who have once been enlightened, who have tasted the heavenly gift, who have shared in the Holy Spirit, who have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the coming age, if they fall away, to be brought back to repentance, because to their loss they are crucifying the Son of God all over again and subjecting him to public disgrace" (Heb. 6: 4-6).

Let me offer a brief approach to this "antinomy." (An antinomy is not the same as a paradox. It is the condition where there are two reasonable statements that seem impossible to both be true at one time.)

First, God, by definition, is sovereign over His creation. Second, in the Garden of Eden, when God spoke to Adam for the first time in Gen. 2: 16, He seemed to limit His own sovereignty and allowed Adam to make a choice to eat or not eat the fruit. The giving of a choice to Adam was a giving of free will. Third, Adam chose to disobey God and God allowed it, resulting in sin infecting all of humanity, and death along with it. Adam's free will allowed him to "lose" his salvation. Fourth, God initiated a plan to redeem mankind in a way that maintained His own sovereignty, and yet allowed men to maintain their free will.

My conclusion is that, yes, both are true: God is indeed sovereign and His will cannot be thwarted. And yes, mankind has been given Free Will to repent and believe.

Our difficulty is one of perspective. It is like being stuck at ground level and being asked to describe the color of a house's roof that is painted white on the front slope and blue on the back slope. No matter how fast I can run from the front yard to back yard, I can't see both sides at the same time. But God views the two facets of the roof from above and can see how they fit together. We need to begin with a basic humility that perhaps this is one of those big issues that contains an element of mystery.

Next week I'll address more the issue of Eternal Security:Once I've been saved, can I lose my salvation?

Seeing Zacchaeus

I have been "vertically challenged" for my whole life. I was 4-foot-10 when I started High School and never really had that hoped-for growth spurt. I was 5-foot-5-and-a-half when I graduated and I've been there ever since.

And I've heard a lot of "short people" jokes in my life. "Just how short is he?" "He's so short, he can do chin-ups on the chalk tray." "He's so short, he can play hand ball against the curb."

Perhaps that's why I love the story of Zacchaeus so much. "He wanted to get a look at Jesus, but he couldn't see over the crowds because he was a pip-squeak, so he ran up ahead, anticipating the route, and climbed a sycamore-fig tree so he could get a look at Jesus when he passed by" (Luke 19: 3-4: my paraphrase). (If someone is casting another Jesus movie, how about Danny DeVito in this role?)

And of course, we know that Zacchaeus was a "chief tax collector." That is, he was not just a lowly tax collector, but someone at the top of the tax collector pyramid scheme. He bought tax lots from the Romans and then brokered them to other tax collectors. Kind of like a mob boss controlling territories. The tax lots imparted the right to collect taxes on a commercial route or a region. The position was rife with corruption. It was common practice to extort more money from tax payers to make even more money. Kind of like paying a gang "protection money." And Zaccaeus was at the top of the pyramid.

The Jewish tax collectors were completely ostracized from Jewish society since they were collaborating with the enemy, the hated Romans who were occupying their homeland. Since they had to interact with these unclean Gentiles, the tax collectors were labeled as "unclean sinners." Perhaps more hated than the Romans themselves.

So, Zaccaeus, although wealthy through his profession, was cut off from any access to salvation because of the Pharisees and scribes. The Pharisees had a fixation on holiness, due in part to the reforms instituted by Ezra after the exile, and then formalized after the Maccabean revolt. In their world, salvation was obtained through rigid adherence to the holiness codes taught by the Torah and interpreted in the Oral Torah and later resulting in Mishnah and Talmudic writings.

And the common person agreed with their leaders. The tax collectors were unredeemable sinners.

But Jesus had a "kingdom" focus. And everyone was a potential citizen of the Kingdom of God if they had faith. So, while the Pharisees were erecting more and more barriers to people, represented to the extreme by Zacchaeus, Jesus refused to treat anyone as exempt from the Good News that the Kingdom of God was now available.

And that is why Jesus "saw" something when he looked at Zacchaeus: faith. Maybe just a mustard seed, but faith nonetheless. He saw that the Father was at work and that this man was close to the Kingdom of God.

No one else in that very religious society had the eyes to see Zacchaeus in the same way. If Jesus had not arrived on the scene, Zacchaeus would remain lost.

But Zacchaeus' transformation can be seen as the fruit of the faith that Jesus called forth. And he compares that faith to the Father of faith, Abraham.

This brings us to us. A religious spirit, maybe also described as pharisaism or legalism, tends to think of people as in or out of our holy club. But Jesus calls us to let go of the glasses of religious sectarianism and see the world through Kingdom lenses.

"My Father is always at his work to this very day; and I, too, am working" (John 5: 17).

Is the Father working in the heart of the pot-smoker, the atheist, the porn-star, the militant gay activist, the [you fill in the blank] that sits in the cubicle next to you at work, or occupies the desk next to you in class, or is on the treadmill machine next to you at the gym? Are you willing to open your eyes to what the Father is doing in their lives? Are you willing to eat dinner at their house or invite them over to yours? This is where the rubber of the Gospel meets the road.