Month: December 2017

Following the Light – A Christmas Story

When I was a boy, my dad would load up me and my younger brother in his Ford pickup on cold December evenings and we would go duck hunting in the swamps, sloughs and muddy bayous of Pace Bottom. It was only a few miles from my North Louisiana home, but to me, it was the wildest place on the planet. Pace Bottom was thousands of acres of unspoiled wilderness, ripe with stories of panthers, trophy Whitetail deer and enough ducks flying overhead to block out the winter sun.

My dad would walk us a few miles into these backwaters and position us next to a Cypress tree with my 20-gauge single shot. I was more of a duck terrorist than an assassin. Mostly, I fired at ducks that were flying by at Mach speeds and rarely did I touch even a feather. Once the sun went down, my dad would come back to me and whistle, signaling the end of our hunt.

My brother and I would fall into line behind my dad for the long, cold walk back to civilization. My dad had hunted these lands since he was a boy, so he knew the logging roads and pig trails, but invariably, we would wander off the path, finding ourselves lost. For some reason, we always had just the one flashlight that my dad carried. We would inch our way through the brush thickets as young boys, trying to stay as close as possible, because he was the only one who knew the way home.

If we followed too closely, my dad would forget we were right behind him and  he would let go of the small branches. The tiny limbs were like iced barbed wire strands and would snap back, whacking us across the face and neck. If we lingered too far behind, we could not see the path in front of us and we would stumble in the night. My dad had the only light and he was the only one who knew the way home.

 

Isaiah 9:2 NIV

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.

 

When Jesus was born in Bethlehem, the son of Joseph and Mary, the world looked a lot like the Pace Bottom of my boyhood. Israel was cold and dark, and danger was everywhere. There was no light to lead the people home. Maybe it was God’s intention all along to provide only one light, hoping we would stay close to him and not wander too far away.  He never promised us a pain free journey or a world where we would not stumble. He did promise to lead us though, if we would walk right behind him.

 

Psalm 119:105 NIV

“Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light for my path.”

 

Jewish people knew this passage well. It had been their song, their want and their hope for a thousand years. In fact, John opens his Gospel story describing Jesus as the Word, becoming flesh.

 

John 1:1, 5 NIV

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

 

In this season of Christmas, let’s decide to follow Jesus more closely, to find our way home from the light he has provided. We live in a dangerous world that can easily cause us to stumble. His light is enough, and His light is for us. Jesus is the only one who knows the way home.

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Jesus the Coach

My childhood was centered around coaches. My dad coached my little league teams and when I entered 7th grade, a retired Marine sergeant was my middle school basketball coach. He terrified us in practice with his gravelly voice and stony scowls.  In high school, we were led by young men wanting to prove themselves in their first jobs as head coaches. Practices were long and hard and there was no grace for bad attitudes or smart-alecky comments.

I did not always like my coaches, but I did respect them. They shaped me as a young man, pushing me to my limits at times. They often yelled and hardly ever smiled, even after a win. We learned how to be serious and focused, how to fight through pain. My parents never let me quit a team once the season started. If we joined the team then we finished the season, even if playing time diminished or the coaches yelled too much.  There was no quick escape.

Sports was also great fun. It was not all drills and grueling practices. We won a state championship and beat teams much better than us. Celebratory dog piles in the middle of the field and getting “District Champion” letter patches on my jacket are all rewards that were earned.

When I became a young man in the workplace, my coaches were replaced by bosses, who had deadlines and quotas. They spoke directly to me and hardly ever smiled. They pushed me to be serious and focused. Fortunately, the sandlots and hardwoods of my youth prepared me for this rough, new world of work. Somewhere along the way, I had learned to be coachable and teachable in my youth.

This was not true for many of the people I met in ministry and the marketplace. Coaching was tough on them as adults because they had never been challenged as children. They quit easily and complained quickly. Coaching did not feel good to them.

Jesus called together a band of untrained, and sometimes unruly men, who stopped what they were doing and followed him through the hot desert. These men were not ready to take the good news to the world when Jesus first met them, so they needed a coach.

Jesus made them a promise:

“Follow me and I will make you fishers of men.” Matthew 4:19

They were not fishing for men when he met them. They were fishing for Tilapia. They spoke, acted and emoted like hardworking fishermen, accustomed to long hours in small spaces.  Their hands were rough from handling coarse nets and they certainly did not trust outsiders, much less want to give their lives to share good news with them. That would change in just three years, because Jesus was a coach.

He challenged them about their pride. He confronted their greed. He pushed them past their prejudices. He did not tolerate their thin faith.

Jesus was not a drill sergeant or a bully. He was not unkind or rude. He was sometimes angry, but never irate. He did speak directly to the problem, though. He loved his disciples enough to be honest with them. He needed them to grow up and to do better.

We all need a coach, especially ones that love and model Jesus to us. We need people who will confront our pride, our greed, and our self-centeredness  We need coaches who will make us better but not let us quit. We need jostling, disruptive language from coaches who care about us.

Ministry life is not easy but it is easy to fall into sloppiness. We need coaches and mentors who will remind us of our mission and point us to a better finishing line.

 

 

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