Just do it

Yes, Nike made that phrase popular in 1988 – long enough ago that some will not remember. Others will be so burned out on hearing it that the meaning is lost.

But James said in his letter, “Remember, it is sin to know what you ought to do and then not do it.” (That’s chapter 4 verse 17.)

How often to do we hear something and think, “I should do that!” With the amount of information hitting us every day, I’d guess that it might be at least five times!

Last Sunday, our pastor spoke about bridging the gap in lost relationships. One of the verses he mentioned was Romans 12:18: Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone. He challenged us to think about reaching out to one person who we had lost a relationship with. I immediately thought of one old friend. By the end of the day, we had connected on Facebook.

I don’t share that little story to have you think, “Oh, Paul is so good!” Because I’m not. Following through on a prompting in my heart is more rare than I’d like. I think God gave me the thought of bridging that gap. And I’m glad my friend was receptive to being connected again.

Tomorrow you will read a blog post that will make you think, “I should do that!”

Stop.

Pick up your phone and make the call. Send that email. Like that person on Facebook.

Remember that it may not be easy, though! During that sermon, my wife thought of someone who is a can of worms for us. We have had such challenges knowing how to help that we’ve almost completely backed off. So we’re praying about how God will change us in that situation. I have no idea.

(Paul Merrill writes here every First Friday.)

What Jesus said about divorce, part two

It is sin.

You were waiting for that, weren’t you? You were wondering where I was going to go, how I was going to spin what Jesus says. You read my post yesterday about Jesus and divorce. You were wondering how you were going to classify me, whether I was going to measure up or measure down or be typical of ___ or ___ or ___.

I mean, you were going to be open -minded about me, thinking the best of my intentions, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You were guessing that I might be ___ or maybe ___ or perhaps even ___. Mostly because I am always so ___.

But you also knew, deep in your heart, that whatever I said in this post was going to color your thinking of me.

You know how I know?

Because I was thinking the same thing. I wondered exactly where I going to go in this post. I wondered who I would hurt, who I would alienate, who I would invite criticism from.

Why should that matter? After all, sin is sin, right?

Indeed it is. And the sin of feeling vindicated and the sin of divorce and the sin of lust and the sin of adultery and the sin of arrogance and the sin of gossip and the sin of envy and the sin of self-righteousness and the sin of self-satisfaction are all sin. All of them.

In that list, of course, only two are socially unacceptable in the conservative branches of the church. And a couple of others are socially unacceptable in less conservative branches of the church. And a couple others are socially unacceptable in the culture at large.

And all of them invite the compassion and forgiveness and invitation to relationship and healing that Jesus offers.

“I can forgive it,” Jesus says.

more than you care to count.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I forgive you.

That’s 35. Jesus said 14 times 35.

His point was that it isn’t about counting.

Counting would be easier than forgiving.

He doesn’t.

Serious business, relationship is.

After laying out the process of caring for people who have not done what he says, Jesus gives the implication:

“Whatever you bind on earth is bound in heaven.”

There is a connection between here and there, between what we say and what God does. If we say, “you aren’t living right,” God says, “you aren’t living right.”

How can that be? Because when we get together, in twos and threes and more, and we ask God to guide us, he will. The judgment we arrive at, through reflection and conversation and examination, has to be viewed as coming from God.

I know. That’s a terrifying idea. Very many people have very many stories of misguided people doing dumb, bad, and horrific things in God’s name.

But, and I say this cautiously, what people have done wrong with what Jesus said doesn’t mean that He was wrong to say it. And what people have done wrong with what Jesus said doesn’t exempt us from obeying Him.

That’s why, when I look at someone’s behavior, thinking “that’s killing you,”  I feel sad. And when I say something, one on one, I am aware that I am involved in holy work, on God’s agenda. If I find myself too happy about the process, handling it too lightly, then I have to back off and examine why, exactly, I thought that God was prompting the conversation.

That’ s why, when I’m part of two or three talking with someone, I’m  incredible sensitive to any feeling of “ganging up” on someone. That’s why, when something has to move to the level of talking with a larger group about the ongoing defiance, I am achy and deliberate.

But that’s why, when I watch what happens when we don’t follow through, I weep at the waste.

growing resistance

Most church services that people attended over the weekend did not include a public rebuke.

I’m sure there were many private rebukes, in which one person accused another (not in the conversation)  of dressing inappropriately, of taking the wrong seat in the sanctuary, of not watching children while they ran on the platform after the service,   of spending too much or too little on a car or vacation or refrigerator or cell phone. These conversations, in which we confess the “sins” of others, happen every Sunday in every church I know of. And those conversations are wrong. coming as they do under the heading of gossip or critical spirit or not forgiving.

No, I’m talking about the kind of public rebuke that Jesus describe in Matthew 18. A person is approached in a serious, but informal way, by a person that loves them and truly has their best interest at heart, They don’t see anything wrong with what they are doing, or don’t see any need to stop.

After a private conversation, two or three other people are invited along.

And now, Jesus says, if the person doesn’t pay attention, we are to tell it to the church. Publicly.

We shy away from this. But we do it all the time. We just tell the church about the misbehavior of people in whispers and emails. “Did you hear about?” “Can you believe that?”

Jesus is saying, ‘don’t smear their reputation, like you often do. Don’t shut them out. Don’t leave them dangling. Instead, ask the person to come to a meeting of the church and let’s let everyone hear at the same time.”

Jesus wasn’t creating a forum to crucify people. That was being covered elsewhere. He forcing conversation into the open, with a clear process, and a desire for reconciliation.