Unlike Paul who longed to go to heaven and be released from the difficulties of his earthly “tent” (2 Corinthians 5:4), we spend our lives making our tents as cozy and comfy as possible — and perish the thought that we might have to quit living in them anytime soon.
Let’s not define “encouragement” solely in terms of our feelings. Courage is not the absence of fear; it is going ahead and doing the right thing even when our feelings are failing us. So if we’ve been “encouraged,” that means we’ll do the right thing, even when it’s scary.
Hearing the usual comments made before the Lord’s Day contribution, a visitor who didn’t know anything about our services might reasonably conclude that this is not a very important part of our service and that, in fact, we are a little embarrassed about it ourselves.
As preachers (and writers), many of us are playing it safe. Like an athlete only trying to “keep from losing,” we seem to want nothing more than to keep from offending anyone. This was not the way Jesus taught, of course. He was willing to “throw deep, into heavy coverage.”
When it comes to love, are we putting the emphasis where Jesus put it? How can we talk about loving our neighbors without talking about evangelism? Having the “mind of Christ” is not about making generic sacrifices; it’s about sacrificing for the SPIRITUAL needs of those around us.
In my own life, there are three basic perspectives that I keep coming back to, time after time. Pondering at least one of these thoughts always brings my mind back to where it needs to be. I share them in the hope that they might help you.
“Shutting out the noise” is a practice that can be learned. Even if our minds are not used to being disciplined, we can start training them today. Little by little, we can acquire the ability to meditate on just one thing — and really let that one thing sink in.
When congregations change to just one service on Sunday, it often cuts by 50% the number of sermons the members hear. (And let’s be frank: that “all-in-one” service on Sunday morning does not contain the same two full-blown sermons that we used to be getting.)
I’m a bit uncomfortable with the number of “rebaptisms” that I hear about. I appreciate the sincerity that prompts an individual to take such a step, but I wonder if an improvement in our understanding might not help us. Think with me here . . . carefully.
Are we content with salvation or do we require salvation y más? How honest are we about what really attracts us? Is it the gospel itself, or is it the “extras”? How many of us would continue to do what we do (and worship where we worship) if the “extras” were taken away?
