Purpose

Vol. 2 Issue 21

May 27, 2008

The Weekly Newsletter of True Potential Publishing

“And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.”(Matthew 16:18)

Is “Church” a Dirty Word? Part II

Last week we started talking about “church.” We brought out our trusty old Webster’s Dictionary to tell us what “church” meant. According to Webster “church” is:

1. “a building for public and especially Christian worship”

2. “the clergy or officialdom of a religious body”

3. “often capitalized : a body or organization of religious believers: as

a) the whole body of Christians

b) DENOMINATION c) CONGREGATION”

4. “a public divine worship ”

5. “the clerical profession ”

According to Webster’s first three definitions (we talked about those last week), “church” is either a building, a bureaucracy, or an organization of religious believers.

Definition four, “a public divine worship ,” still has us going somewhere; like to a church (definition one). Only this going to church sounds more like going to an event, or a happening, than a building. Maybe we’re getting closer.

Definition five has “church” as a “profession” or “career.” I guess that’s where the guys who make up the “clergy or officialdom” come from.

*****

I apologize if all of this sounds a bit confusing or repetitive, or circular … but that’s because it’s confusing, repetitive and circular.

Here’s the point – Webster’s is a dictionary. Its job is to define a word accurately in light of its present meaning. What that means is that today “church” means just what Webster’s says it means. What Webster’s doesn’t tell us is that its definition is what “church” has come to mean. Webster’s is a modern definition. In this century “church” means exactly what Webster’s say’s it does.

Bummer.

You want to know why bummer?

Because what “church” means today isn’t necessarily what it meant twenty centuries ago. That means you’re trying to reconcile a first century idea of “church” with a twenty-first century definition. And most of what “church” means today isn’t what “church” meant back when Jesus first introduced the idea. If you’re a Jesus follower rather of a “church” follower, maybe that’s why you’re so frustrated with “church.” It’s certainly why I am.

If you’re starting to get your feathers fluffed a little, just relax and hear me out. You may have a great church, a wonderful church, a church that meets all your needs. I may not be talking about your church at all … of course, maybe I am.

All we’re really interested in is what the Bible says “church” is. And if your (or Webster’s) definition of “church” doesn’t jibe with what’s in the Word … well, then I guess you have a decision to make, don’t you?

Let’s start with what “church” isn't, according to the Bible. Since Webster’s has given us a pretty good idea of what “church” means in the 21st century, we’ll hold its definitions up ‘to the light of scripture’ to see if they’re light-proof.

Webster’s # 1: “Church” is a building. We all know that. Depending on where you’re from, churches are made out of limestone blocks, red brick, white clapboard, or metal siding and I-beams. Most of the time they’ve got a steeple and a lot of those have a cross on top. One thing we can all agree on - a “church” is a building.

I wonder if Jesus meant “building” when first introduced the idea of “church” to His disciple Peter? “And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.”(Matthew 16:18)

He says “build my church” maybe He does mean that “church” is supposed to be a building. Seems to make sense reading the verse. It must be a pretty strong building too; “the gates of Hades will not overcome it.”

There’s one teensy-weensy little problem with the verse though, and I’d better bring it up. Jesus didn’t say “church” in this verse; He said “ekklesia.”

Our word “church” comes from the Middle English word “chirche.” “Chirche” comes from the Old English “cirice”; that comes ultimately from Late Greek “kyriakon.” “Kyriakon” or “kyriokos” means “belonging to the Lord (or lord).” “Kyriokos” appears in the New Testament but usually in reference to the “Lord’s Supper” or the “Lord’s Day”; never in relation to what we know as “church.”

So why the Middle English/Old English/Late Greek lesson? Is it really so important to know all this root word history stuff? What’s the problem with just reading the Bible as it is and taking the preacher’s word for what it means?

Here’s where the teensy-weensy problem in Matthew 16:18 becomes a big problem. The King James translators got the word “ekklesia” wrong the first time it appeared – here where Jesus introduced the idea to Peter. Then they went on to get it wrong 114 more times.

But they did get “ekklesia” right three times. The word means literally, “called out ones.” It has the connotation of being “called out” to an “assembly” or an assembled group of people.

The three times the King James translates “ekklesia” correctly, as “assembly” are all lumped together in the back half of Acts 19.

Luke is telling the story of a group of Christians, they were called “the Way” back then, were in a city called Ephesus; telling people about their new faith. So many Ephesians were coming to “the Way” that it began to affect business.

Ephesus was a temple town. And their temple was for the goddess Artemis. The city’s craftsmen made and its merchants sold statuettes, idols, to everyone who came to worship “the great goddess Artemis.” The Ephesians even had their own fight song, “Great is Artemis of the Ephesians.” “Great is Artemis of the Ephesians.” What they were saying in effect was “Artemis is great and our Artemis is greater than yours.”

Well, when people started believing in “the Way” they didn’t need Artemis anymore … or the little statuettes that kept the city’s economy humming along. So the merchants and craftsmen started a riot and called the whole city into a great “assembly” at the local stadium. This “assembly” of Ephesians rioting and chanting their Artemis fight song is the only time in the KJV that “ekklesia” is rightfully translated “assembly.”

*****

Back to “church” as a building.

You want to know something else that’s pretty interesting? The only time “church” is referred to as a building (the Greek word “hieron” means “temple”) is in this same story. It was these guys again, the Ephesians, talking about their temple of the goddess Artemis.

So, at this point we know a couple of things:

When the KJV Bible says “church” (115 times total), 114 times the original word is “ekklesia” or “assembly”; one time the original word is “hieron” or “temple.” (By the way, I’m not picking on the KJV. All English translations use “church” to translate “ekklesia” … just not as much.)

The English word “church” comes, ultimately from the Greek word “kyriokos,” which means “belonging to the L(l)ord.” The problem is, when Jesus and the apostles talked about the “church” (114 times) they never said “kyriokos”; they said “ekklesia.”

Any way you shake it, when Jesus and the apostles spoke about the “ekklesia” they weren’t talking about a “hieron” - a temple or building.

But that’s not how it is today. And I’ve still got to agree with Webster's; a “church,” among other things is a building. The problem, as we’ve seen, is that when Jesus told Peter, “upon this rock I will build my church”; he didn’t say “church” he said “assembly.” Jesus wasn’t talking about a building.

Next week we’re talk more about what Jesus wasn’t talking about. Maybe we can get to what He was talking about.

Purpose

Vol. 2 Issue 20
May 19, 2008
The Weekly Newsletter of True Potential Publishing



"Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another - and all the more as you see the Day approaching." (Hebrews 10:25)

Is “Church” a Dirty Word?

I’ve always felt a little guilty over church. I felt guilty when I didn’t attend; felt guilty when I did attend; felt guilty if I didn’t become a member; felt guilty after I became a member; felt guilty when I stayed at a certain church; and felt guilty when I left that church. Then the cycle would begin all over again.

What is wrong with me? Can’t I just be satisfied with church like other Christians? Isn’t it our duty to go to church; to join the church? Doesn’t the Bible tell us that we must go to church if we are truly Christians?

I’ve had pastors tell me that my salvation was in jeopardy if I didn’t attend church regularly (in my last episode, the pastor was referring to Sunday night and Wednesday services, seeing as I was already there to get yelled at on Sunday morning).

If the Bible and the pastor tell me that attending church is an integral part of my Christianity, that my Christianity isn’t really Christianity at all without regular church attendance, then why do I feel so lousy when I do attend church? Do I possess some basic fault, which apparently doesn’t exist in other Christians, to make me feel this way?

I haven’t developed this aversion to church overnight. And, to be fair, when I do go to church, I enjoy a good bit of it. Of course, I do my best to avoid any church that I may not enjoy a good bit of.

I’m conflicted and here’s the conflict.

I’m a born-again Christian. I write on born-again Christian topics – like telling other born-again Christians how to behave. I publish books by born-again Christian authors who write about how born-again Christians ought to behave. I ought to have come to terms with this whole church thing a long time ago … but I haven’t.

And since I just turned fifty, I figure its time to deal with any basic incongruities still hanging around in my life.

Does this mean I’m going to take my place in the pew, keep my mouth shut and join the ecclesiastically satisfied masses?

Nah.

Does it mean I’m all of a sudden going to start feeling good about going church, Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesdays?

Probably not.

(By the way. If you feel great about church and have no idea what I’m talking about, consider yourself blessed and take a few weeks off. There are a lot of your brothers and sisters in Christ out there, in church and out of church, who are miserable about the whole situation and want an honest answer - just like me.)

I don’t necessarily buy what a lot of church leaders are telling me about how I should feel about church. On the other hand, as Dad would say, “you can’t throw the baby out with the bath water.” Church, whether you like it or not, is a big part of the Christian life and if you call yourself a Christian and want Him to believe it, you’d better deal with church.

*****

A little personal history.

My father was in full-time ministry since before I was born. I was raised in the church and Dad represented the leadership of the church. As a pastor and a minister, I considered my dad head and shoulders above his peers. Some of that admiration may have been prejudiced by the fact he was my dad, but looking back on his life from my current perspective I’ll stick with my story. He really was head and shoulders above a lot of his peers.

The point is that my problem with church doesn’t stem from some latent hostility toward my father as an authority figure. I liked and admired the guy when I was a kid and I admire and empathize with him more now that I’ve had the opportunity to walk a few more miles in his moccasins.

And I don’t believe my general dissatisfaction with church comes my from lack of trying. Dad was saved, educated and ordained a Baptist. His search for a more complete relationship with God, led him into baptism of the Holy Spirit (more “Pentecost” than “Pentecostalism”). Where he went, we followed. As a result, I have experienced a wide swath of churches, denominations and doctrines; most of them spending more time and effort assailing each other than winning the world.

Again, my point is that I don’t believe the answer to my dissatisfaction with church is that I just haven’t tried the “right one.”

I don’t want to be too hard on churches though. The world’s a better place with churches than without them.
The problem, I believe, is in what we think church is, the definition it has become, as opposed to what God’s desire for what the church ought to be.

The word “church” according to Webster is defined as:

1. “a building for public and especially Christian worship”

2. “the clergy or officialdom of a religious body”

3. “often capitalized : a body or organization of religious believers: as

a) the whole body of Christians

b) DENOMINATION

c) CONGREGATION”

4. “a public divine worship ”

5. “the clerical profession ”

According to Webster the primary definition of “church” is a building; a place where people, especially Christians, come to worship. It’s on every street corner, in every city or town. It can be a magnificent edifice with soaring spires that reach into the heavens or a metal building with a neon sign. The church, according to Webster is primarily a structure, sometimes magnificent, sometimes humble; built by men from wood and stone.

Secondly, Webster defines “church” as “the clergy or officialdom” - the guys in charge. If we search beyond the bricks and mortar of the structure that is the church to a deeper, other meaning we discover that the “church” is not built just of wood and stone, but also of men; a hierarchy, a government, an elite leadership that represents the “officialdom” of the structure. Be it sticks and stones or flesh and bone, that, according to Webster 1 and 2, is the “church.”

To understand the “church” according to Webster’s second meaning, I had to return to the dictionary for a definition of “officialdom”. Webster’s answer was short and sweet – “officials as a class.” A class of what? The definition seemed a little lacking, so I dug deeper; this time into the Encarta English Dictionary of North America. According to Encarta “officialdom” is a word which encompasses bureaucrats and bureaucracy; specifically, “bureaucracy and those who work within it, especially when viewed as inefficient or pompous.”

Youch!

Studying “church” was really beginning to depress me. I was discovering that I had spent my whole life, as my father had spent his, serving and supporting either a building or a bureaucracy; or perhaps some combination of the two. No wonder I felt so guilty and dissatisfied.


I had to push on. Maybe there was some light at the end of this. Surely there was more to church than bricks and bureaucrats. I continued my study.

Webster’s third definition capitalized “Church” and divided its meaning into three sub-categories: “a) the whole body of Christians; b) DENOMINATION; c) CONGREGATION.” I wasn’t sure why Webster’s listed DENOMINATION and CONGREGATION in capital letters. Maybe “DENOMINATION” and “CONGREGATION” took some sort of precedence over “Christian”.

Despite my confusion of capitals I was encouraged. At least we were talking about people! Not just the “officialdom” but those who occupied the pews.

That was me! If church could be defined as people like me I might find a solution to my problem. If the church was me and people like me, how could I feel guilty and dissatisfied? If I was part of the definition, couldn’t I be part of the solution? I may have found a bit of the light for which I was searching.

Encouraged as I was with this third definition, I still had to deal with why Webster divided its meaning into three distinct sub-categories.

a) “the whole body of Christians” - This definition I could understand. I was part of “the whole body of Christians.” I took this to mean people who belonged to - gave their hearts to - Christ. That was me! People who, just like me, recognized Jesus as the Son of God and personal savior and put the trust of their eternal future in His hands.

b) “DENOMINATION” Or as Dad used to say – abominations. Personally, I figure that any label beyond Christian (literally “slave of Christ”) puts me one step further away from the One I serve. I’ve got no use for DENOMINATIONS … probably never will.

c) “CONGREGATION” – It’s still in caps … that bothers me. Like “CONGREGATION” still outranks “the whole body of Christians.” We’ll have to deal with that one … next week.

The Bible talks about church. The New Testament mentions the word 108 times, so you know we’ve got to deal with it, conflicted or not. Here’s a little hope though, you may be surprised about what the Bible actually does say about “church”. It’s probably not what you’re thinking.

Next week we’ll get into a little etymology. That’s word study (not bug study).

Until then.

In Christ,

Steve Spillman

Purpose

May 12, 2008
The Weekly Newsletter of True Potential Publishing


"If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters—yes, even his own life—he cannot be my disciple." (Luke 14:27)

The Road Not Taken

Hate my father and mother? Brothers and sisters? Sounds a bit harsh doesn’t it? Not much of a Mothers Days weekend topic, Steve. Any other cheerful aphorisms you want to lay on us while we plan our special day with mom?

That verse and its twin, Matthew 10:37 are what’s known as red letter verses. Some Bibles have all the words Jesus actually said Himself printed in red ink. That way you know Jesus’ actual words from the rest of the Bible.

Want to know what else is in red letters? "… unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you." (John 6:53) That’s a tough one to explain to a third grade Sunday school class. I’ll bet they don’t make flannelgraphs for that verse.

Jesus said a lot of disturbing things.

Do you really think He wanted folks to hate their mothers and eat His flesh and drink His blood?

Probably not.

But, for a lot of us, He was saying something equally radical. Unless you’re willing to walk away from everything you know and everything you value, everything that’s secure and meaningful in your life, you’re not worthy to become my follower. To people who put their families ahead of everything else, that meant mom and dad and brother and sister. To a young rich ruler, it meant selling everything he had and following Jesus. To the crowds who couldn’t see past Jesus’ miraculous bread and fish dinners, it meant forgetting about food and feasting on Who He really was.

Jesus was a radical. He told His followers, unless you’re prepared to be a radical too, don’t bother coming along. This disciple thing ain’t no hobby. Unless you’re willing to despise everything this world has given you, family, friends, wealth, security, sustenance, even your own life, for the sake of following Him, don’t bother coming along.

It still sounds harsh.

There’s got to be a happy medium …doesn’t there?

Sorry, there’s not. You’re in or out, that’s the deal. By the way, Jesus lost a lot of ‘disciples’ every time he said something like this. Only the radicals stayed around.

I’ve got some good news for you though. Jesus loves you. The One who wants you to give up what’s dearest to you, gave up His life so you could live forever.

Another piece of good news? He’s not interested in you hating your mom and dad and He doesn’t necessarily want to you to go through life penniless or hungry. That wasn’t the point.

This is what He meant - If you’re going to follow me, someday you’re going to get hit with a choice. It may be: follow what mom and dad have planned for you of follow what God has planned for you. It may be: keep the money and possessions you’ve worked all your life to acquire or give it all away and embark on a mission only you know is true. It may be: remain in your daily grub for sustenance because it’s a known quantity or give up your loaves and fishes and feast on food that will wake up your soul.

If you want to follow Him, the day will come when you have to decide what’s important. It always does. If you’re not willing to let go of everything you’ve got, don’t follow along.

*****

I learned a poem in high school. The only poem I’ve ever memorized. As a high school kid I thought it was pretty impressive to know any poem that didn’t start with "Jack be nimble."

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them both about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost wrote that. I rewrote it from memory … after all these years. I’m still impressed.

I’ll be fifty next week.

My high school wrestling coach, Gary Bowden, was inducted into the California Wrestling Hall of Fame last weekend. I’m proud of him, he deserves the honor. I couldn’t be there to see it. The east coast is a long way from the west coast.

I’ll call Mom on Sunday. I’ll wish her a happy Mother’s Day and she’ll wish me a happy birthday. We’re due a visit. And we’ll do it when we can, we always do. But the east coast is a long way from the west coast.

You never give up your life without getting back much more in return.

Funny thing, you get back the stuff you gave up too … only better. In the last couple of weeks I’ve spoken with high school team mates I hadn’t heard from in thirty years. Each of us recognized the other’s voice in an instant and three decades faded away like wisps of smoke.

When we do make a trip to visit family out west, it’s a real reunion. Brothers and sisters all show up; all with their own families. We get to meet the newbies, born in and married in, since our last visit. Mom’s always tickled at all the bodies and commotion. And it always ends happy/sad and much too soon, but always wonderful.

But the life I got by giving up the life I had is far beyond anything I could have created on my own. It is the one I was meant to have. I have a family and a mission and a relationship with my Master. And they are the ones I was meant to have.

It took a long time to really understand the poem. Frost was right - it has made all the difference.

"Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." (Matthew 10:39) Another one of those red letter verses.

Until next week.

Telling this with a sigh,

Steve Spillman

Purpose
Vol. 2 Issue 18
May 2, 2008
The Weekly Newsletter of True Potential Publishing

Courage Part 3

“In those days Israel had no king; every one did as he saw fit.” (Judges 17:6)

“We have met the enemy, and he is us” - Pogo

We’re going to hang with the Judges for one more week. From last week’s letter you could tell that things were beginning to go astray in Samson’s time, but after he died life in Israel really started going south.

After Samson’s story there are five chapters left in Judges. Taken as a whole the last five chapters are an unholy, depressing, disturbing mishmash. Kind of like HBO.

The theme for the whole section is, “In those days Israel had no king; every one did as he saw fit.” Whoever wrote the book just keeps repeating, “In those days Israel had no king.” It was like everybody did their own thing, no matter how screwed up, and everybody else just stood by scratching their heads wondering what was going on. Kind of like the current presidential campaign.

Let me share a little so you know I’m not kidding. Chapter 17 starts out with a guy who steals a pile of money from his mother. She throws a curse on whoever stole the money. So he gets nervous about the curse and says to mom, “Hey mom, it was just me who took your money, but here it back again. No hard feelings, right?”

Well, mom’s tickled about getting the money back. She pronounces an anti-curse and dedicates the money to God by having a silversmith mold some of the stash into idols for her son. I’m sure God appreciated that little gesture.

Son steals from mom. Mom curses son. Son returns money. Mom blesses son and makes idols with the money. Sure, I know that kind of stuff happens all the time nowadays, but back them that kind of behavior was pretty screwed up.

It just gets better from here.

Now that Micah (the son) has the idols he needs a priest. He installs one of his sons as priest … might as well keep it in the family. Between the idols and the priest Micah figures he’s got God in his corner. I can’t figure out how Micah could have mistaken a homemade priest and idols made of silver for the presence and approval of God. Boy, people sure were ignorant back then.

Then Micah cuts a better deal. A genuine bona-fide priest, a Levite, comes strolling into town. Seems he didn’t like where he came from and was looking for a better deal himself. Micah makes the deal, upgrades to a genuine bona-fide priest and sonny boy returns to civilian life. That’s much better.

“In those days Israel had no king; every one did as he saw fit.”

Enter the guys from Dan. Remember back to the children of Israel entering the Promised Land? Each tribe was given it own land by God. Everything was mapped out in advance; they just had to go claim it. Well, the tribe of Dan was having a bit of trouble convincing the current residents to vacate so they could move in. They were wandering around homeless, looking for place where the indigenous residents weren’t quite so belligerent about leaving their homes.

Way up north there was a peaceful happy little place called Laish. The Bible describes the place and its residents. “… [T]he people were living in safety … unsuspecting and secure. And since their land lacked nothing, they were prosperous. Also they lived a long way from the Sidonians and had no relationship with anyone else.” (Judges 18:7) It was a lot like Vermont.

The guys from Dan, figuring Laish was much easier pickins than the land they were supposed to occupy go up to evict the peaceniks occupying the place. On the way they stop by Micah’s house to ‘liberate’ his idols and make the priest an even better deal. “Instead of being God’s stand-in for just one family, why not be one for a whole tribe?” The priest, always looking for a better deal, took them up on it. Micah, figuring losing his idols and his priest was better than losing his head, had no choice but to let them go.

The brave Danites (guys from Dan) marched on. “They took what Micah had made, and his priest, and went on to Laish, against a peaceful and unsuspecting people. They attacked them with the sword and burned down their city. There was no one to rescue them because they lived a long way from Sidon and had no relationship with anyone else.” (Judges 18:27-28) Such a proud day for Israel.

We’re not done yet. Next story.

A Levite (the guys who were supposed to be God’s representatives) acquires a concubine. That’s a girl who provides all the privileges of a wife without the hassle of a legal commitment. The concubine is unfaithful (gee, funny that?) and goes home to daddy. Levite guy chases after her, spends some time with dad, and begins his journey home, concubine in tow.

Levite, manservant and concubine stop for the night in Gibeah. The manservant wanted to stay in Jebus (that’s Jerusalem) because it was closer, but Levite refuses because Jebus was full of Jebusites … “not our kind of people.” Gibeah was occupied by Benjamites … “our kind of people.”
They should have stayed in Jebus.
A man from Gibeah invites the travelers into his house and they’re just getting settled in for the night when there’s a pounding on the front door. The local chamber of commerce demands that their host turn over the Levite, “so we can have sex with him.” Nice.
The host, the epitome of hospitality, offers his virgin daughter to the mob of men, trying to spare his guest from being raped by the local menfolk. Of course the men don’t want to rape a girl.

They want to rape a man. Nice

The Levite, not wanting to put his host to any trouble, tosses his concubine to the mob. Well, a concubine is better than nothing.

The proud and noble Benjamites rape and abuse the girl throughout the night. At dawn she stumbles to the front stoop of her master’s host and falls over dead. Nice.

The Levite (remember, he’s the guy that tossed his concubine to the mob in the first place) is extremely ticked over the loss of his female property. He cuts the dead girl into twelve pieces and ships a piece to each of the tribes of Israel. Nice.

Everyone is just shocked! How could such a thing happen here!? People assemble from all over Israel to address this tragedy. The Levite tells everybody his story and off they go to teach the Benjamites of Gibeah a lesson. The rest of the Benjamites wouldn’t have that so they go to join their brothers in the defense of Gibea.

Israel sent four hundred thousand soldiers to take care of business in Gibea. That’s a lot of soldiers. The Benjamites gathered to defend Gibea were only twenty-six thousand seven hundred; but they were pretty good fighters.

Battle of Gibea - Day 1: Four hundred thousand Israelites attack the city. The Benjamites rush out to meet them, kill twenty-two thousand Israelites and go back inside the city. Well, that plan didn’t work.

Battle of Gibea – Day 2: Three hundred and seventy eight thousand Israelites attack the city. The Benjamites rush out to meet them, kill eighteen thousand Israelites and go back inside the city. Dang! We need a new plan.

Battle of Gibea – Day 3: Israelites get a new plan. Most (but not all) of the Israelites attack the city. The Benjamites rush out to meet them, the Israelites run away and the Benjamites give chase. The rest of the Israelites come out of their hiding place and run into the city while the Benjamites are gone. Plan works, twenty-five thousand Benjamites are killed, six hundred run away and the Israelites burn Gibea.

Here’s where the plan gets screwed up.

The Israelites start to feel bad that they killed all but six hundred Benjamites (Now, they feel bad). To make it up to the Benjamites, they hatch a plan to find new wives for the six hundred survivors. They burn down one of their own cities, kill everybody except for the virgin girls and give them to the left-over Benjamites.

But it wasn’t enough girls. There were still two hundred Benjamites without new wives. All the other Israelites said, “You’re not going to give our girls to the Benjamites.” So they told the two hundred wifeless guys, “Look, there’s a party in Shiloh (another one of their own cities) next week. When the girls come out of the city dancing, each of you grab one and run away” (these were their own girls!).

“In those days Israel had no king; every one did as he saw fit.”

Well, that’s how Judges ends. Pretty depressing isn’t it?

*****

It’s been an interesting week in South Carolina. An eighteen year old boy was arrested for planning to blow up his high school. Mom and dad called the police when they took delivery of ten pounds of ammonium nitrate the boy wanted delivered to the house.

Another eighteen year old boy killed his dad, step mom, little brother and step sister, and then went four-wheeling. Not a big deal, apparently.

A man drove over from Alabama and raped a fourteen year old girl he met on Myspace. That’s social networking at its finest.

You want to know the screwed up thing? This stuff is all pretty common. Doesn’t even raise an eyebrow anymore. And its not just in South Carolina; it’s in California and Indiana and everywhere else.

“In those days Israel had no king; every one did as he saw fit.”

Sounds kind of like us doesn’t it?

Any good news Steve?

Yeah there is. We live here but we’re not citizens. There’s another country we belong to where this kind of thing doesn’t happen. The country I’m talking about does have a King. And everybody does what He sees fit. Things work out better that way.

People as far back as Abraham knew about this other country and they looked forward to finally settling down there. “All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.” (Hebrews 11:13 – 16).

Keep looking up. You might catch a glimpse of it.

Until next week.

Committed to King and country,

Steve Spillman

“Let me die with the Philistines!” (Judges16:30)

Purpose
Vol. 2 Issue 17
The Weekly Newsletter of True Potential Publishing

Courage Part II

What Makes a Hero?

Remember last week? Gideon fought the bad guys, the Midianites, and won. He was a Judge, remember? There was another Judge in old Israel, a few Judges down from Gideon; his name was Samson.

In the eyes of most folks Samson was a hero; the kind of stuff Sunday school stories are made of. He was bad to the bone, strong as an ox and a real ladies man. Samson was the kind of hero Israel was looking for. And they needed one. This time the bad guys were the Philistines; they had been the bad guys for about forty years. It was time for God to send Israel a new Judge, a deliverer, a hero. God had Samson in mind. You can read about him in the Old Testament book of Judges (of course); his story runs through chapters 13 to 16.

Gideon was minding his own business, just trying to stay out of the way, when the angel of God showed up to make him a Judge and a hero.

Samson's story wasn't like that. He was custom made for the job. The angel of God showed up to the lady who was to become Samson's mother. She didn't have any kids, she was sterile. God likes to prove a point. So the angel tells Samson's mom-to-be that she's going to have a very special son; he's going to be a Nazerite, and he would deliver Israel from the Philistines.

A Nazarite was someone who was set aside for a special purpose. Sometimes that meant just for a certain period of time, sometimes it was for a lifetime. Samson was supposed to be a lifetime Nazerite.

Being a Nazerite required certain behavior. For instance, Nazerites weren't allowed to touch wine or any sort of alcohol. This particular rule was so radical that Nazerites weren't even allowed to be around grapes. That's pretty radical.

If you were a Nazerite, you couldn't touch any unclean or dead thing and you couldn't cut your hair. There were a lot of restrictions.

Samson had his own way of doing things. He wasn't into restrictions.

God has His own way of doing things too. When He says something's going to happen, you'd better count on it. And how some folks think He should make His plans go down isn't necessarily the way they do.

Samson broke about every Nazerite rule there was. He liked wine, didn't mind dead things, and didn't much care for rules of any kind. He was a guy who pretty much took what he wanted ... and he wanted a lot.

Taking what he wanted got him into a lot of trouble. His strength got him out of trouble. It seems that breaking all the wine drinking, dead thing touching Nazerite rules didn't have much of an effect on Samson's strength. In the end it was getting a hair cut that did him in.

Remember the story from Sunday school? Samson goes to see his new flame, Delilah. Delilah's a bad girl in more ways than one; she's friends with the bad guys. Delilah gets him drunk, gets his attention, gets his secret, and gets him fast asleep. Then she calls in the bad guys to give Samson a haircut. Samson wakes up, jumps up and takes on the bad guys. Whoops! No more super powers. Samson finds out he's just a regular joe. The bad guys poke out his eyes and make him their slave.

The Philistines throw a huge party and Samson's the main event. They're going to celebrate by making a mockery of the guy who had made a mockery of them. By now Samson has pretty much realized he's screwed up his life. He has one last chance at destiny; one last opportunity to be what and who he was made to be. He asks the kid holding his chain to put him between the two pillars that hold the roof up. The kid, not knowing any better, does what Samson asks.

One last time, maybe the first time, Samson asks God to restore his super-strength. 3,000 bad guys got together that day to see Samson put on a show. They had no idea of the kind of show they were about to see. Samson put his left hand on the left pillar and his right hand on the right pillar. He bowed his back and pushed ... and pushed. Then something remarkable happened. There was a crack, and then a pop, and then a little dust and grit fell from the ceiling. And then the roof came down. 3,000 Philistines and one Jew were killed that day.

Samson fulfilled his purpose; he delivered his people from the bad guys.

*****

Kind of a different story from Gideon's, wasn't it? Gideon was like Barney Fife. Samson was like the Terminator. Gideon was a pip-squeak and certainly no warrior. But he did what he knew he had to do, even though it scared the ba-hookey out him. And he delivered Israel.

Samson, super dude, ate bad guys for breakfast. He never did anything he was supposed to do and the only thing that scared him was an empty wineskin. And he delivered Israel.

So what's the moral of the story?

God's going to do what He's going to do. Sometimes ... most times .... it doesn't make sense to us. The guys who are supposed to be losers turn out to be heroes. The guys who are supposed to be super-stars turn out to be royal disappointments.

Maybe it's not about the guys. Maybe it's not about how we think things are supposed to go.

Maybe it's about Him. About what He wants done and how He wants to work. Maybe we're just supposed to show up and play our part.

Gideon didn't ask to be picked for the hero job. He listened and did what he knew he had to do; even though he didn't think he was up to it, even though the idea of being a hero terrified him. In the end God kept His promise, Gideon thrashed the bad guys and Israel lived in peace and freedom for forty years. Gideon retired and lived a long and happy life. The Bible says he sired seventy sons and had many wives (things were different back then). He died old and happy.

Samson was born for the hero job. He loved being superman. He'd kill Philistines at the slightest provocation (I think he liked it). Outside of looking like a hero, acting like a hero, and liking to do hero stuff, Samson just couldn't get his head around why he was a hero and Who made him one.

The Bible says that Samson was a Judge in Israel for twenty years; that was before the Delilah thing. In that time, as far as we know, he never did anything good for the people of Israel, never kept any of his Nazerite rules and never listened to anything God might have said to him. He got himself into plenty of peccadilloes by fraternizing with the bad guys and got himself out by killing or generally hassling same. He suffered total failure and public embarrassment as a result of his final little faux pas with Delilah, ending up in chains with his eyes poked out.

Samson pretty much blew his life and the chances (minus one) of fulfilling his destiny.

My personal opinion? This was not the way God planned it. Samson was going to be Israel's hero; that part was decided. But there was an option A and an option B.

Option A: You were born for the job, dedicated at birth for the job and given unique capabilities (super strength) for job. Everybody knows you're Israel's next hero because God said you were. Seriously, look at those biceps, you're the guy. Take your job seriously, listen for the plan and execute. Gideon figured that much out - and he was a runt! God's been with you since birth. He'll be with you in battle - show up on the field and get the job done. When God is finished with you and you've fulfilled your purpose, you may get lucky like Gideon, have seventy kids and live the rest of your days in peace.

Option B: You were born for the job, dedicated at birth for the job and given unique capabilities (super strength) for job. Everybody knows you're Israel's next hero because God said you were. Seriously, look at those biceps, you're the guy. Take your own wants and desires seriously, don't deny yourself anything. You've got it all, live the good life; there'll be time to fulfill your purpose later. Take what you want, live how you want. Who's going to stop you? You're Samson. Get into a little trouble? Power your way out of it. Use your gifts to your advantage.

Every day you wake up, do what you want and ignore your purpose. The days add up. One day you wake up with no hair, no strength and no options. You had it all and now you don't. With zero options you'll have plenty of time to figure out just what went wrong. Then you get lucky; an option pops up. Just one option. It's a suicide mission, but hey, by now it's finally dawned on you that you're here to fulfill a destiny. You could have done it the easy way, but those days are gone. Now it's the hard way. One last chance to do what you were born to do. And then you're dead.

You fulfilled your destiny. Like I said, that part was decided in advance. You're the one who gets to decide if it's option A or option B.

*****

Folks, each of us have a destiny, a purpose; that part has already been decided. The part we decide is option A or option B.

If you're the Gideon type, do what you know you've got to do - he did fine, you will too.

If you're Samson in a suit, don't get cocky. It's not about you. God's gifts to you aren't your gifts to mankind. They're His gifts to mankind; you're just the carrier. You've got a job to do, take it seriously.

Courage isn't about doing what you know you can do because nobody will stop you. Courage is doing what you know you have to do even though you think you can't. That's what makes a hero.
There are a lot of heroes in the Bible. If I get the choice, I'd like my last day to be like Gideon's, not Samson's.

Until next week.

In the service of Him who makes us heroes,

Steve Spillman

Purpose
Vol. 2 Issue 16
April 17, 2008
The Weekly Newsletter of True Potential Publishing

Courage

Fear is a part of life. I don’t believe people who say they’re not afraid of anything. Everybody’s afraid of something.

I used to be afraid of eighth graders. They terrified me, bullied me, threatened me and laughed at me. Of course, I was a seventh grader at the time. I’ve gotten over that particular fear.

I don’t like roller coasters. It’s not that I’m afraid of them. I can walk up to any roller coaster on the planet and look it right in the eye. No fear.

Riding on them? That’s another matter. I don’t like riding on roller coasters. I could probably lose my distaste (did I say fear?) of riding roller coasters if I put my mind to it, but what’s the point? Is my life really missing roller coaster rides?

I guess fear is either dealt with or it’s not. I dealt with my fear of eighth graders; I grew up, I moved on. I haven’t really dealt with the riding roller coasters thing, but why bother? My not getting over that particular fear isn’t going to change my life much unless I’m considering the lucrative theme park ride tester profession.

This is point in the letter, when you’re supposed to say, "Okay Steve, what’s your point?"

Here it is. Ready?

Courage isn’t the lack of fear. It’s doing what you know you have to do in spite of your fear.

*****

I read about Gideon this morning (Judges 6 – 8). Gideon was a Judge. Not a black robe, sit on the bench, listen to court cases judge. A Judge back in old Israel was a natural leader/hero that rose up to rule the people of Israel, kind of by default. It wasn’t really by default; God picked them to be judges, it’s just that not everybody knew about God picking them at the time, including the judges themselves.

Gideon was like that. He certainly didn’t see himself as any kind of epic hero. When God went to talk to him, Gideon was threshing wheat in a winepress. What that really means is that Gideon was doing his chores in a place he wouldn’t normally being doing his chores because he was hiding from the bad guys.

The bad guys were the Midianites. They would sweep into Israeli territory, trample the crops, eat the sheep, steal the donkeys and do all the other things bad guys do.

This had been going on for seven years and Gideon was just trying to stay out of the way. That’s when the angel of the Lord sat down under an oak tree next to the winepress to have a talk with him. The angel said to Gideon, "The Lord is with you, mighty warrior."

Mighty warrior? Not Gideon. Mighty warriors don’t do their chores in a winepress because they’re afraid of bad guys.

The story gets a little sketchy here. The angel, it turns out, either spoke for God to the extent he felt free to use first person pronouns or God Himself was doing the talking. Any way you shake it, God was having a personal powwow with Gideon. "Go in the strength you have and save Israel out of Midian’s hand. Am I not sending you?"

Well, I don’t think Gideon knew who was talking to him. Gideon answered, "Look, I’m the scrawniest kid of the scrawniest family of the scrawniest tribe in Israel. You must be looking for someone else."

The Lord wasn’t easily put off and He knew that it wouldn’t be Gideon doing the heavy lifting on this job. "I will be with you, and you will strike down all the Midianites together."

At this point Gideon suspected that he may not be talking to an ordinary stranger and it just might be You-Know-Who or one of His representatives. Oh boy. "Look," he said, "If it’s really You, wait right here and I’ll go get an offering and bring it back."

The Lord waited.

Gideon came back with a basket full of goat meat, a pot of broth and some bread. The angel, or the Lord, or Whoever, instructed Gideon to put the meat and the bread on a rock. Then he touched the meat and bread with the tip of his staff and WHOOFF! The whole thing went up in a ball of fire (what happened to the pot of broth is one of those Bible mysteries we’ll probably find out on the other side) and Whoever disappeared.

Gideon figured out Who he was dealing with. "Oh man." "Oh man." "I saw an angel of the Lord face to face and now I’m gonna die." "Oh man. Oh man. Oh man."

Not quite the response of an epic hero.

The Lord had to reassure him (I know, the story said He disappeared, but He’s still talking. I hope it wasn’t in an audible voice; otherwise folks would Gideon was nuts). "Relax," The Lord tells him. "Don’t be afraid. You’re not going to die."

So now Gideon knows God spoke to him and he isn’t going to die as a result. His brave-o-meter goes up one point.

Later that night God tells Gideon to take bull number two from his father’s herd, tear down his father’s Baal altar and cut down his father’s Asherah pole. Then he’s supposed to build a real altar and use the wood from the Asherah pole to burn up the bull as a sacrifice to God.

Courage is a funny thing. Sometimes you do something you fear because you fear the consequences of not doing it even more.

Gideon’s dad and the men of the town are going to be royally ticked off if he kills the bull, cuts down the pole, busts up the altar and sets fire to the whole kit and caboodle. On the other hand, this is God talking. Do you really not want to do what He commands?

Let’s see what the brave-o-meter does on this one.

Captain courageous waits until nightfall to do the deed; figuring nobody will catch him. The next morning comes. He’s right about one thing; the men of the town are ticked. Gideon’s lying low; no sense taking credit for this one.

The men of the town find out who did it and come for Gideon’s hide. Gideon’s dad, Joash (it’s nice that he wasn’t upset over the bull), comes out the house and says to the men of the town, "Are you fighting Baal’s battles now?" "Anyone touches my son and he’ll be dead by morning" "Go away and let Baal fight his own battles."

That backed the townsfolk down and Gideon’s brave-o-meter goes up another two points.

After all this happens the bad guys, the Midianites, join forces and invade Israel again. Gideon, who’s had some pretty good courage boosters lately, is filled with the Spirit and calls his tribe and the neighboring Israeli tribes together to go attack the bad guys.

Not being ridiculously brave, he double checks with God. Gideon puts out a sheep’s fleece one night and asks that if God really wants him to go after the bad guys, to make the fleece wet with dew but everything around it bone dry. That happens.

Attacking bad guys is serious business and Gideon want to be sure he’s got his signals straight. He pushes his luck with God by throwing the fleece out one more night. This time he asks for the fleece to be dry and everything else sopping wet. That happens.

Okie Dokie. Time to go after the bad guys.

But wait! There’s more!

The Lord wants to teach Gideon one last lesson about courage. It seems that 32,000 Israelis is really way too many for an attack on a valley full of Midianites too numerous to count. Gideon say’s to the troops, "Look if you’re so scared about this operation that you’re shaking, go on home; we won’t be needing you." The announcement didn’t go over well. 22,000 men left that day.

Apparently 10,000 Israelis is way too many to attack countless Midianites. God has Gideon dismiss 9,700 more.

Great. Now he’s got 300 men to attack a sea of bad guys. God’s right on one point, He is going to have to do the heavy lifting on this one.

You know the rest of the story. Each man gets a horn and a torch and a clay jar. They surround the Midianites in the middle of the night, break their jars, blow their horns and raised their torches … all at the same time.

The Midianites were completely freaked out by the noise and the torches. They had no clue if they were being attacked by 300 men or 300,000 men. Those who didn’t turn on each other in the confusion ran out into the desert in terror. All the bad guys were caught and killed.

Gideon was a hero.

*****

The moral of the story?

Courage isn’t fearlessness. It’s doing what you know you’ve got to do, even if you’re afraid.

Here’s the good part: God knows what you’re supposed to do and He makes sure it’s not more than you can handle. He doesn’t mind showing Himself, just so you know it’s really Him that’s talking. And most times He’ll give you something to do that’s scary, but not overly scary – like cutting down an Asherah pole. He knows that overcoming a little scary thing helps to prepare you for the big scary thing.

And when the big scary thing comes?

Hey. He told you to do it. He said He’d be right there doing the heavy lifting. And you know it was Him because He showed Himself to you. Also, you’ve got a track record; He’s given you some little scary things to conquer so you know the system works.

And after the battle? When you’re the hero and the thing that terrified you is lying at your feet? What have you learned?

The same thing Gideon learned. The battle is the Lord’s. You just showed up for the fight.

*****

We’ll stay on Courage for another week. There’s more to be said.

Until then, let Him fight your battles; but remember to show up.

In Him,

Steve Spillman