Monthly Archives: February 2016

“They who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with the wings of eagles.” Isaiah 40:21

Remember the exhilaration of driving alone for the first time? In Kentucky, where I was raised, you had to be 16 before you got your permit and then had to wait at least 30 days before the driver’s test. As I recall, I went the day of my birthday for my permit and the 31^st day for my exam, a youthful zeal my mother did not share

My first stop was Mom’s work place. She was suitably proud and told all of her coworkers who looked at my goofy picture and vowed to be watchful for me on the roads, etc. Anxious to be off on my own, I told her where I was going and when I’d be home. Free at last, I ventured into the tangled late afternoon traffic in a Ford Galaxy 500, which was about the size of a minor aircraft carrier.

I returned home at the appointed time to find my mother dabbing tears, as she often did over us children for no reason other than we were in a world that was simply waiting to pounce on the Ellis clan. Mom wouldn’t go into Mammoth Cave for fear that it was just waiting untold millennia for the opportunity to fall on an Ellis. I’m not making this up.

The cause of her tears this time was a minor fender bender on the road outside her place of work after I left…about an hour after I left. Mind you I was nowhere in the vicinity of the accident, and had returned home unscathed. Nevertheless, that set mom to ponder the certainty that the Fates were planning my fiery demise on the highways at any moment.

Mom was a classic worrier, but I don’t mock her or deride her for that. I used to, laughingly, but then I had kids, who turned 16, and began driving. I believe it was after Gregory got his license that I took him immediately to the insurance agent for “the talk” that was much more important than where babies come from. I wanted him to know how much his new freedom was costing me and how grateful and careful he should be. Yes, I really did that.

John, the agent at the time, waited until Gregory left the room. He turned to me and said, “you know he’s going to have an accident, don’t you?” He quoted the statistics and told me to be prepared to find out that it would not be the end of the world, and to pray that no one would get hurt which they usually do not. Good advice.

Of course Grego did have an accident, a minor one. So did Lauren. Both knocked off so many side view mirrors that I could have paid off my mortgage by now. And both apparently learned from the minor accidents and are today safe and proficient drivers. I’m sure they, like me, became better drivers because of the early mistakes they made.

When it comes to life, I have this perspective retroactively. God has it proactively. He knows the mistakes we make are not the final verdict on the value of our lives. In fact, God knows that my mistake in life brings me one more step toward His vision for me, and that’s quite remarkable.

As reluctant as we are to endure failure and pain, surely one of the central lessons of the gospel is that the good news involves dealing rightly with the bad news. When it comes to sin and suffering, the persistent and irritating refrain of the Word is that hardships are the pathway to peace. You don’t get there without collecting a few scars along the way. It’s just not possible.

But God’s economy of grace changes the whole equation. Though I might see my mistake or misfortune, whether by my own hand or simply as the result of living in a jagged and broken world, as one more piece of condemnation, God sees it as one more step to my completion. God regards my falls as opportunities for growth, not confirmation that He’s wasted time on me. I bemoan the fact that I’ve fallen in the same way for the sixteenth time, for example, but God rejoices because He knows I will learn to live the right way after my seventeenth time of failing in the same way.

This is raw, unfiltered, straight from the Source grace. That’s why it sounds too good to be true. Until a soul vibrates perfectly with the eternal rhythms of grace, then grace will always sound a little suspicious. Most of us fear that if everything is so freely forgiven, then what’s to keep us from piling up the numbers and airily saying that’s just one more step to my completion?

The answer is twofold. First, there’s nothing free about forgiveness. The cross was costly. Just because we didn’t have to pay the price doesn’t mean that grace is free.

Second, and this is the consistently overlooked facet of “graceology,” grace has a certain gravity. It draws us, and the closer we get to the source, the more speed we pick up. Receiving grace doesn’t mean we’ll cast off every moral restraint and live like heathens. Grace is the soil of both humility and gratitude, not licentiousness.

I’m not consistently soaring yet, as Isaiah promised. Too many accidents. But the accidents don’t mean I’ll never get my wings. And I think I’m learning, as God knows well, that unbroken success just inflates my ego. The accidents, the falls, the failures, those are God’s real opportunities.

So I have to accept that most days I just limp along, but that’s all right. Grace will help me one day to limp into a circle of light, and then I will soar. But not yet. Until then, it’s one day at a time, one mistake at a time, and grace for every moment and every accident. Perhaps in God’s sight, all my mistakes are not really accidents at all.

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis

February 27, 2016

“What are you doing here Elijah?” 1 Kings 19:9

Driving to church today I thought about the thousands of people I passed in their homes or cars. What were they like spiritually? I decided, accurately I think, that very few of them are murderers, serial adulterers, chronically undependable, lying, cheating scoundrels. Most people are probably muddling their way through life with occasional episodes of low level road hostility (not full-blown road rage), fudging on taxes, and padding résumés.

Now I’m not letting any of the more respectable sinners off the hook. We can avoid all of the big, ugly, public sins, and still be a spiritual mess of course. We’re pretty good at keeping our badness private or minimizing it so we can sleep at night.

It’s good to remember that it takes very little to have to declare spiritual bankruptcy. We can’t buy holiness or work our way into heaven. We all have a debt that with our own meager resources is unpayable. Thank God for grace! So comparing ourselves to one another and patting ourselves on the back for being at least a little better than the other guy is a total waste of time and actually does a good bit of spiritual harm. When it comes to comparing and rating ourselves I like a quote attributed to Dolly Parton who, when pressed about numerous rumors of her indiscretions, finally said “Hell, I’ve either done it or I’m capable of it.”

Trust me, I’ve done it or I’m capable of it.

My reason for spending a little bit of space leveling the ground, so to speak, is that when it comes to grace we usually talk about how God’s grace extends to the very worst of sinners. That’s true. But again most of you reading this are not “murderers, serial adulterers, chronically undependable, lying, cheating scoundrels.” Grace is wonderful for the front page failures some of us have, but it’s also essential for the back page details. Grace applies for the spiritual paper cuts and the severed jugular.

Let’s take Elijah as an example. He was a man of powerful faith, no capital s sins. When did he need grace?

The most familiar and impressive scene in his story is the contest with the prophets of Baal. To prove who had the stronger God, Elijah set up a “burnt offering contest.” Build two altars, and see which God shows up with fire.

Elijah was at his faithful, trash-talking best. Literally. The altars were set up. The contest started, and the prophets of Baal began their dancing and futile pleading. When nothing happened Elijah mocked them saying “Maybe he’s deep in thought, or gone to the bathroom (that’s a likely meaning of the Hebrew), taken a trip, or taking a nap.” Of course, nothing happened though the prophets cut themselves and continued their rave.

Then it was Elijah’s turn. He laid out the wood and then in a final theatrical flourish had servants douse the burnt offering with water. Three times. The wood and the animal were drenched and water filled a trench Elijah dug around the altar. Then he prayed, and fire came down from heaven and consumed “the animal, the wood, the stones, the dust, and the water in the trench.” (1 Kings 18:20-40).

This is a great biblical story with a dash of Vince McMahon. Elijah won the day, slew the prophets (which is what they did in those less tolerant days), was greatly acclaimed, and lauded by the king. This was his high point.

And in the next chapter he comes off looking kind of like a pansy. Queen Jezebel, who was a fan of Baal, promised to kill him. He ran for his life into the wilderness. He felt like a failure (I am no better than my fathers), and wished for death.

Think about this. He had just set up and witnessed a stunning demonstration of God’s presence and power. Yet now his heart melted because of some threats.

You likely remember the next scene in this story where God caused a strong wind to break the rocks in front of Elijah’s cave, then a earthquake to rattle the land, then a fire to blaze through the valley. Then the still small voice of God.

Elijah’s reaction? The same. He tells God he’s a failure and no one listens, and he’s the only faithful man left in the land and everyone is trying to kill him. God’s reaction? “I’ve got 7000 worshipers still, and you need to get back to work” (1 Kings 19:15-18).

I’ve spent quite a bit of space with this story because I want you to see the contrast. Elijah’s lowest point spiritually came soon after his highest point. Elijah was not a capital s sinner, but he sure was capable of some capital s self-pity. And God had grace for that too. He never abandoned him or even appeared to lose patience. God just kept being God, no matter what mood Elijah was in or what struggle he went through.

God’s grace is for my self-centered worst, and for my elegant best and for the times when I’m just slogging through life with a kind of dull faith. He’s with me when I’m at my best, my very worst, or when I’m just kind of grumpy and full of low level complaints.

I need grace not only to build the walls and foundations of my life, but to fill in the cracks. I need grace to get into heaven, but I also need grace to give me a little bit of heaven moment by moment. I need grace when I’m really, really bad, and I need grace when I’m just in a bad mood. I need grace when I’m a wretch, and I need grace when I’m just having a bad day. God lovingly offers grace for both polarities and every point in between.

So this week I trust the vast majority of us will avoid the headline-making sins. But each of us is likely to have many moments when we’re just not at our best. The good news God has grace for every moment and every mood.

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis

February 18, 2016

“Let us make man in Our image.” Genesis 1:26

The three most important questions in life are “Who am I?” “Why am I here?” And “Where am I going?” Notice which one is first. Do you know who you are? The question of identity is the most important. We have to know who we are before we can know our purpose or destiny.

To answer this most fundamental question we simply need to go to the beginning. The very first chapter of the Bible contains a statement of immense power and potential. God made a decision to make us in His image.

Think of that for a moment. There is something very god-like about every human being. What this is exactly is uncertain, but it definitely separates us from all of creation, and that is the point that I want you to cling to. Something is eternally, immutably, wonderfully divine about YOU! This is the original blessing we too often have forgotten. It is more important than the original sin.

How can I best describe this? God put a little bit of Himself in you. Your spiritual DNA is directly from the Father of Lights. He installed the software at the very beginning. Maybe it’s better to say that God installed the operating system. Let’s keep working with the metaphors. He put a little heaven in you. Or I like the way the writer of Ecclesiastes phrased it, “He has put eternity into man’s mind” (3:11).

Theologians have puzzled for centuries over what this image is. Again, we simply can’t be certain, but I’m certain that it can only be understood in relational terms (as everything about God must be understood. His nature and actions all have a role in helping us draw near to Him). So my divine image enables me to know and relate to God.

The image enables us to hear the song of creation itself, every day. We hear not just an echo of God’s original creation but we are tuned to the ongoing rhythms of His grace so that we “vibrate” when completely in tune with Him. Most of us experience this as a soul-deep longing for and satisfaction with God alone. “As the deer longs for flowing streams so my soul longs for thee, O God” (Ps. 42:1).

We may try to escape this heavenly music by turning up a lot of the noise of life. I have many times spoken to people who have run from God, flatly denying or dismissing His existence, and embracing many forms of chaos. What’s supremely interesting to me, however, is that in quiet and reflective moments they all wonder about God. They seem to love “the idea” of God. That primal curiosity is the image singing to them

Now those who not longer struggle with “the idea” of God often face a problem of spiritual amnesia. We sometimes live as if we have forgotten God. Let’s change the metaphor from music to art. The image becomes so marred by the graffiti of fear, anxiety, avarice, resentment, etc. etc. that we forget where we came from. So we forget who we are.

The Bible essentially is a record of God driving home our identity and trying to restore it. That ultimately is the work of Christ. He erased the graffiti. We must simply accept this grace, embrace who we are in Christ, and follow the Artist.

I’ve often thought that my task in life is the be a re-minder, that is, one who reminds. So let me remind you today of what the scripture says about you and your image. Each phrase is rooted in scripture or a scriptural idea.

You are a child of God, one of His sons or daughters. He is your Daddy, your Papa, the One who never mistreated, neglected, or abandoned you.

You are redeemed, that is, set free of all the bondage of your past.

You are holy, blameless, and righteous before God through Christ. The fact that you do not feel holy doesn’t change the fact that God sees perfectly what you will be in the end.

You are chosen. God picked you. He adopted you and wants you in His family.

You are a new creation. Every day you have an opportunity to start your life over. Every day. Even when you have fallen every day previously.

You are completely forgiven. A young woman recently asked me if I thought God forgave her for her abortions. God forgives all, I assured her. I wonder if that was what kept her from seeing and rejoicing in God’s image in her? I hope she does now.

Trust me that I could go on and on. The Bible is quite clear about who you are. A good summary might be Isaiah 43:4 where God said ”You are precious in My eyes, and honored, and I love you.”

God calls constantly to the image in you. He sings to you. Woos you. Speaks to you softly. He erases all the ugly smudges, repairs all the painful gouges, and brings back the wondrous color of His image in you.

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis

February 14, 2016

 

Help!

“Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction.” James 1:27

Help. When you read that word what comes to mind? Do you see it as a request or an imperative? Is it “Help me!”? Or “Help someone.”?

Both are essential.

“Help me” is a frank admission that we can’t make make it through life in our own strength. We all need help, and asking for help actually comes quite naturally to us very early in life. My three-year-old granddaughter regularly asks for help, whether it’s carrying a chair to set up a tea party, reading a book, or cutting up her food. She needs help. She asks. She gets help. Wonderful!

As we grow, however, that simple little progression gets more complicated. Somewhere along the line we stop asking for help because it’s often seen as a sign of weakness. We want to project strength and independence. “Help? I don’t need help!” Sometimes the answer is a little more benign, as in “I don’t want to bother anyone else.”

It took me a while to see the folly of that approach in my own life. I was not good at asking for help, basically for the reasons I cited in the previous paragraph. People asked me for help, but I didn’t regularly seek out the help of others.

Frankly, that was an expression of raw pride, the kind of original sin that is probably the foundation of all the others. Not asking for help wore me out and nearly destroyed me. My personal recovery from alcoholism involved chiefly breaking through the dangerous denial that I needed help.

Today I ask for help. When I’m afraid, angry, hurt, doubtful, or uncertain I talk to someone else. Wonder of wonders, I’ve discovered the voice of God through the people I talk to! God doesn’t make a habit of speaking to me as He did to Moses, but He’s no less talkative. I just needed to learn to listen in the way He normally speaks. I believe God does speak directly to me, but I know my ego speaks to me in my own voice, and it’s hard to tell the difference sometimes. God speaks most clearly to me through the voices of others.

You don’t have to have an addiction to experience the painful isolation of not asking for help, and the refusal to ask for help is always spiritually dangerous. Ironically “I need help” is a sign of weakness. The scripture consistently challenges us to admit our weakness, not to shame us but to open us up to the help God always provides. The greatest paradox, of course, is that our weakness becomes the single most important place God demonstrates His power. Go ahead and ask for help.

“Help someone” means that we are looking beyond ourselves to the needs of another person. I say this reverently, but confidently: we shift from listening for God’s voice to being God’s voice. As important as it is to ask for help, it’s even more important to help someone else.

If we only ask for help, then we risk becoming what we fear; chronic victims wallowing in self-pity. God does strengthen and encourage and guide and carry us along in an infinite variety of ways, but He also expects us to serve one another. As the passage from James suggests, good religion consists of acts of service like helping orphans and widows. Jesus summed His ministry as one of serving others. The second greatest commandment is that we love one another. How is love expressed best? By helping one another, of course.

This outward focus brings an almost luminous quality to life. Think back to a time when you helped someone. It can be an endless variety of things: an encouraging word, visiting someone in the hospital, mowing the lawn of an elderly neighbor, etc. How did you feel when you helped? I suggest that feeling of satisfaction and spiritual warmth is very god-like. You felt what God did at creation, “this is good.”

The wondrous variety of help needed around you means that your day is full of potential good. Just start watching for opportunities. Nothing will make you feel more a part of God’s powerful providence than helping someone.

A part of my morning prayer is “Guide me to someone I can help, and grant that I may watch and listen for those You send to help me.” Join me in this prayer. Just say “Help!” It works both ways. Then become aware of the moments each day when God speaks to you, and you speak for God.

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis

February 7, 2016