Monthly Archives: September 2012

“Jesus took a child and put him in the midst of them, and taking him in His arms…” Mark 9:36

I was exactly like Jesus today.

Considering today is Sunday and my calling is to preach the gospel, I hope the above statement does not sound boastful or surprising. Being like Jesus is part of my job description, so to speak (yours too, by the way). But today I was more literally like Jesus than normal. I’ll explain.

A part of my ministry in the worship service is a children’s sermon. A former professor of mine came to preach at Broadmoor a while back and told the congregation he was impressed with my “bravery” in taking on this weekly challenge. I had never thought of it as brave, but I suppose I see his point. There is a definite unpredictability when you sit down on the platform with children gathered around and try to hold their attention for a few moments, but it gives me a chance to be their pastor. I like that. Plus, I have had many adults tell me over the years that they get more out of my children’s sermon than my regular sermon. Hmmm.

The “sermon” is certainly not profound or even particularly difficult. I have a “sermon sack,” let a child pull out the object, then I tell a story and make a scriptural application. This morning’s topic for the children’s sermon does not matter. It has already been forgotten by everyone gathered for worship today at Broadmoor, but they will never forget this children’s sermon because of a certain little boy whose identity I will protect by referring to him simply as “JT.”

JT is 3 years old, and a truly beautiful little boy. He is a blond cherub with a nearly constant smile. Each Sunday he gives me a hug after church and runs around the sanctuary as people visit, talk, and laugh. JT is very much like any 3 year old boy should be. Like I was. In my day the saying was “little boys are snakes, and snails, and puppy-dog tails.” JT is certainly all of that… with a dash of MMA. He is already a big boy for his age, strong and good. He is great fun to watch grow up and will be a fine man. Today he is 3, and that brings me back to the moment this morning I was exactly like Jesus.

JT wiggled during the children’s sermon. He rolled around a bit. He crawled from the left side of the little congregation to the right side. Over the children. Over my feet. He was not bad. He was simply 3. So I reached over, and, just like Jesus would, picked him up and sat him on the step in front of me, wrapped both arms around him, and hugged him while I tried to finish my simple object lesson. Our little wrestling match was a draw at best, but we all laughed at what was probably the highlight of the worship service.

Jesus often referred to children. When trying to teach the disciples about humility, He took a child and set him in the midst of them, wrapping His arms around him. On one occasion, parents were bringing little children to him, even infants, for Him to touch. The cranky disciples tried to stop them, but Jesus rebuked the disciples. Jesus blessed children, held them, hugged them, and loved them. I thought of that when I picked up JT.

JT was right where he belonged this morning, in the midst of a church that loves him and delights in him. And he did something very important for all of us. A little child reminded his church that God has a great, wonderful, and charmingly sacred sense of humor. We all felt the radiance of His smile this morning, as we watched little JT’s smile. Every church and every Christian needs to remember this, and be thankful for each reminder.

I am so glad to be JT’s pastor. I will likely talk to him one day about receiving Christ as his Savior. I likely will be the one to baptize him. I will teach him about Christ, and watch him grow physically and spiritually. What a blessing that is to think about! It is one reason I enjoy so much the children’s sermon. It gives me a chance to be like Jesus.

And one other thing. If I should still be around when he marries, I will enjoy immensely telling today’s story at his rehearsal dinner.

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis

September 23, 2012

"They shall all know me. From the least of them to the greatest."

Writing is a lot like fishing. I troll through my library, pick a book and cast through it. Often something catches my eye, sparks a thought and a weekly column begins to take shape.

Now any of you who have been fishing know you can go a long time between bites. An occasional nibble promises something, but then disappointment. Sometimes you don't even get a nibble. You might as well be fishing in a dirty swimming pool.

Sometimes writing is like that. Like today. I have spent the last few hours searching among books, reading scripture, even looking at old sermons. Whenever I reach this writer's block Leslie always offers the same suggestion. "Just republish something you did last year or the year before. It's not like they're going to notice." While she's probably right, that's still a little deflating. Besides you have to be careful about re-serving old sermons. They can make listeners sick. Sermonella. Try as I might I cannot channel my inner Philip Yancey.

So I prayed. "God what do people need to hear from you tomorrow? What word from you would make a difference in their day?" The answer was simple and clear: "Just tell them I love them."

The great human doubt concerns companionship, We wonder very deeply if we are alone in the universe or if there is Someone or Something out there that knows us and might perhaps even care. Atheist arguments can be very clever and seem to be less caustic than formerly. In addition to the improvement in marketing the atheist always has a prime facie case on his side and doubt becomes almost an inevitability. At least at some point.

I always thought it ironic that on the famed "Altar to the Unknown God" in Athens there was…nothing. Empty. Lack of certainty. It was a tacit Greek admission that "we really are not too sure about a lot of this." At the very least they bequeathed to modern agnostics an altar, The word "unknown" comes from the same word as agnostic. A constant line of people trudge by for centuries. "Is anyone there? I didn't think so." You may have been in that number.

Yet to the listening ear a different song sounds. I write carefully these next lines wanting to avoid the appearance of trying to impress, but I can say honestly I have not struggled with doubt for longer than I can recall. Please believe me that I am not puffing myself up. I'm not boasting of a great faith. I don't think in those terms. I'm amazed by a small faith in a great God, a mustard seed faith that God can use to do wondrous things.

When I think about doubting God I liken it to one of my children saying "you don't love me, and you never have loved me." I haven't dealt with this for a long time but whenever it rose up in any form I frankly had a hard time taking it seriously. I do love them and am still astounded by the depth of that love. In fact, I don't just love them, I like them. I enjoy being around them, hearing about their days, their plans, their insights. Plus they live in an house/apartment I provide, eat food their mother buys and cooks, watch televisions and play video games I have provided, drive cars that are in my name, and well…you get the picture.

Frankly, much doubt is childish. It boils down to not getting one's way in some particular. I wonder deeply about providence. I puzzle over grace, I'm staggered by forgiveness. But that God loves me? I accept that as more real than the next breath I take. I never doubt it.

And neither should you.

The apex of Jeremiah's grand prophecy is in chapter 31. The background could not be more dismal. The exile had torn the people away from their land. Jerusalem lay in ashes. And most staggeringly The Temple, THE TEMPLE OF THE ONE TRUE GOD, was smashed to bits. Talk about a crisis of faith.

Yet there was Jeremiah, holding forth for God, "they shall know Me. From the least of them to the greatest.'

I shudder to think about the burdens you face today. Life can be cruel and hard. No one knows what this Monday will bring. But this I do know: You are not alone. There is a God that created the universe, with all its infinite wonders and life in all its endless variety. He created you to live, to laugh, to love. He delights in you, and wants nothing more than for
you to hear His assuring words: "I love you."

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis

September 15, 2012

“Whatever your task, work heartily, as serving the Lord and not men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward; you are serving the Lord Christ.” Colossians 3:23-24

We spend a great deal of our lives trying to impress or please other people. While some of this motive is honorable, noble, and necessary, it is definitely a second-tier priority, and to make it an ultimate goal is cause of a great many fears and anxieties. “Approval addiction” is a serious problem for many people.

A related mistake is to seek great circumstances in which to serve. To seek a great place is to always have your attention elsewhere. For example, you imagine how good it would be if you worked for a different company, or lived in a different town, or even married a different person! You can waste a lifetime in a mental court of appeals, rehearsing past decisions and regretting present circumstances.

Paul very clearly emphasized that you are here to serve the Lord Christ in whatever you do, writing it twice in the two verses quoted above. He meant that wherever you are, whatever your circumstances, serve God there. He is the one who can discern your true motives. He is the one who will bless you.

In the same way, your task is not to seek a great place. If that is your attitude then there probably is no such place for you. However, if you seek to make great the place where you serve, then you are looking for the opportunities God has placed before you today. The people around you right now are the ones you were sent to serve, today.

This constant principle of serving God means that you have a consistent purpose, and you fulfill that purpose whether you are at work, home, shopping, exercising, etc. Serve the Lord Christ.

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis

September 10, 2012

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning, great is Thy faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23

If you could “graph” the book of Lamentations, the lowest point on the graph would be 3:17: “My soul is bereft of peace, I have forgotten what happiness is.” Misery and bitterness surrounded and filled the author. I don’t know of a gloomier verse in the Bible.

Only a few verses later, however, is a sweeping vision of a positive and hopeful faith. Lamentations 3:22-23 is the foundation for one of our favorite hymns, “Great Is Thy Faithfulness.” We sing it often at funerals. When life is toughest we need the clearest reminders that we can count on God.

We ministers expend a great deal of time and effort trying to convince members to be more faithful to God. Who couldn’t be could be more faithful? Frankly, it’s easy preaching to stir up a sense of guilt over giving less than 100%. Who gives 100%? More! More! More! So we end up with members who either regularly rededicate themselves or get saved every revival. This baptized legalism (as opposed to the circumcised legalism of the first century) is no gospel at all. It is simply a depressing message of “no, not yet, and never enough.”

I wonder how much better off we would be if we emphasized instead the wonders of God’s faithfulness to us? That’s the verdict of Lamentations. Whether the background of the book is the death of a king or the Babylonian exile, the author writes from a context of disaster and perhaps a vague sense that he may share in the responsibility for it. But he battles back from the brink of despair by looking to God’s faithfulness, and he has hope.

Do you believe every morning brings new mercies from God? Give it a try. I have. The real key I have discovered is not to look for the daily spectacle of a burning bush, but to see God’s mercy through simple reminders like birds of the air and lilies of the field.

I awaken each morning to the nub-wagging greetings of three Schnauzers. It’s always been remarkable to me how irrepressibly happy they are to see me. One or two of them has slept in the bed with Leslie and me. Yet when we begin stirring they are so pleased! They know we will pat them, let them out, feed them, etc. They have an innate trust in our companionship and goodness toward them. This daily canine blessing is hardly mundane. It’s a reminder of the steadfast love of the Lord for me.

Leslie awakens to start her day usually at the same time I begin mine. I’ve given the next statement careful thought, and I’m sure it is true: In 31+ years of marriage she has never gotten up grumpy. She has far more Schnauzer-nature in her than I do. Either brightly whistling, singing, or humming she moves smoothly into her day. Her love for me and her home is easy to take for granted. How different it appears when I see it as a blessing from a steadfastly loving God!

I drive to work in pre-dawn, often stopping for an Egg McMuffin and hash-brown that I eat in the car (not to worry, there’s very little traffic at that hour). I go through phases where that simple breakfast tastes so very good that I’m sure the children of Israel would never have complained if God had dispensed hash-browns instead of manna. A small reminder of the bounty we enjoy in our country. All good things come from God. Even Egg McMuffins.

Last week at this time we were all preparing for the arrival of the latest hurricane to hit our area. If you don’t live in the Gulf coast region then you have no idea of how these storms overtake nearly every aspect of life in the days leading up to landfall. At the very least they leave big, uncomfortable messes in their wake. At worst they bring death and destruction of homes and lives. In spite of all our satellites, planes, and even Jim Cantore we don’t know how bad it will be and exactly where it will be worst.

Yet here we are a week later. We are here. Alive. Rebuilding. Cleaning up. Comforting those who were hit much harder. This blessing is not a small mercy. I’m thankful.

You are, whether you realize it or not, a recipient of God’s new mercies. Your challenge is to have faith in Him and hope in Him. You think you have only a small faith and little hope? The reason you need only a mustard seed of faith is that we have a great and good God. Look at the new mercies He gives you each morning. Allow His faithfulness to stir your faithfulness.

Grace,

Terry Ellis

September 4, 2012