I confess, I don’t like to part with my brass.  I’m not a miser.   If a thing is needful and worth what it costs, I am all in.  But I don’t get there quickly or casually.   In this, I am my father’s son.    My childhood Saturdays were consumed by running errands with my dad.   We drove all over town, comparing market prices on Borkum-Riff pipe tobacco.   My father was not about the convenience buy.   Before Google, he used gasoline to fuel his comparison shopping.   He would agonize over simple purchases and use yellow legal pads to analyze his options.   He would not part with his brass unless he could prove it was worth it.  As Wendell Berry noted, for my Dad, “the Depression was not over and done, but merely absent for a while.”

We all want to know that the things that are truly costly in our lives are ‘worth it.’  Our education, vocations, investments – our love, our deepest commitments, are they worth it?  Are the things that cost the most, worth the cost?   While true that “to love any good thing at a cost, is a bargain.”  All too often, this perspective can only be discovered in retrospect.   In the middle of the costliness of loving any good thing, the yellow legal pads are constantly analyzing.  ‘Is it worth it?  Is he or she, worth it?’   

The angst of that question, ‘Is he worth it?’ puts its finger on the pulse.  Deep love is deeply costly.   Self-love, or selfish love, view this question as one of convenience not cost.   But love and costliness are directly proportional.  As one grows, so will the other.   “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13).   Love and costliness track together.   ‘Is it worth it?  Is he or she worthy?’  How many times have you spoken this to the darkness?

In his Messages to Seven Churches in Revelation, Jesus had hard words for his beloved bride, the church.   Her love for him is costly.   And growing even more costly.   She must face external threat and internal turmoil.   She is tempted to love herself more than Him.  Or to love Him less than herself.   She struggles with purity and commitment and the purity of her commitment.   She is often complacent, apathetic, and neglectful.   She questions whether, ‘to love Him at a cost, is a bargain.’   ‘It is worth it?  Is He Worthy?’   

We ask the same thing.   Not out loud of course.  But in the quiet hours and in Valleys of Shadow.  Following Christ is costly.   Bonhoeffer rightly wrote, “when Christ calls a man, He bids him to come and die.”   ‘Is He worth it?  Is He Worthy?’  God is kind and gentle with his children.   He knows our anxious thoughts.   The Revelation paints a dramatic picture of sacrifice and final victory.   Through it, God reveals ‘what is and what is to come.’  But the climax of this picture is not in its last brush-stroke, but in its first.  In Revelation 5, the real question is posed – the question that answers all others.  “Is He Worthy?”  And the answer?  “He is!”

Join us this week as we examine Revelation 5 and answer the question, ‘Is He Worthy?’  We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube.  For the Order of Service, click here.

It is always an error in judgement to guess what a congregation is thinking.  Even if they are giving verbal and non-verbal feedback, interpretation is a fool’s errand.   When it comes to an audience, what you see is definitely not what you get.   Swaying, or nodding or “that’s right” from enthusiasts does not mean they are dialed in.   And the inert crowd who spend the sermon staring at their shoes may not be checked out.   Just because someone seems asleep and another is saying “Amen!” does not mean you really know what is going on inside.

The deportment of a listener is often more about culture than comprehension.   Feedback does not mean the hearer is really hearing:  hearing with their ears, their minds, their hearts, or their souls.   Especially if the word lands a punch.    It is easy to zealously agree when a speaker brings hard truth for the guy in the next seat.  But when it is our turn, will we listen?   How loud is our “Amen” then?

How willing are you to say “Amen” when the hard word hits home?   When it penetrates the pretense?  And divides the deepest thoughts and intents of the heart?   The message to the Church in Laodicea in Revelation 3 is familiar.   They are the lukewarm church.  

“‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth.”

This church was lukewarm.   Not frigid, nor on fire.   They were middling, going through the motions, not getting too excited about Jesus, God, or the Bible.   No fanatics here.   No controversies either.  Nothing but moderation.   And while we say, “moderation in all things,” the lukewarmness of the Laodicean Church made Jesus sick to his stomach.   He is sickened by their complacency and contentment with a “form of godliness” but with no pursuit of its power.

Jesus knows their works – but none are worth mentioning.   Their only noteworthy work is that they are not what they should be.   Not very impressive.   The Church in Laodicea is the only one of the Seven Churches to receive no positive praise – only rebuke.   Not because they are a Synagogue of Satan.  Nor because they have failed to discipline heretics or silence false teachers.   But because in Laodicea, “just enough is good enough” when it comes to following Christ.  

There is no concern to grow in the knowledge and grace of the Lord Jesus.   They are content with what they have, who they have, and how they have always done things.    Then top that off with a stunning lack of spiritual self-awareness.  “For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.”

What if we made such a statement?   “We are rich in our faith and need nothing.   We don’t need anything or anyone else.  We are content with our spiritual progress.   We love our little group, just as it is.  We are comfortable with things the way they are.  We don’t see any point in stirring the pot by getting all hot and bothered about Jesus.”   The Laodiceans think they have it all together.  But Jesus offers a stinging rebuke.  In a city famed in the ancient world for its ophthalmology, they could not have been more blind.  

They have laid up treasure, but are not rich toward God.  Spiritually they are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.   But not just them.  This is the assessment of all who are lukewarm toward Christ.   Content that “just enough is good enough.”  Who have no desire to pursue and follow Christ.

Are you content with your relationship to Christ?   Is just enough, good enough for you?   Are you hot?  Or cold?  Or lukewarm?   The Lord speaks a hard word.   He is “The Amen.”   He is the faithful and genuine witness.  He has a hard but faithful word for a soft and unfaithful church.   Will we hear it?  Or will we bow up or turn a deaf ear?

Jesus’ word is sharp, but something tender shines through his rebuke.    Christ does not cut this church loose, take their lampstand, or cast them away.   Instead, he calls them back.   “Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline.”   In the ancient language, he used a word for love that declares tender affection for those indifferent toward Him.  

They have everything they need from church but have put Christ outside.   He stands at his own door and knocks.   What about us?  Have we been so satisfied with our church, our programs, our fellowship, our spiritual pursuits, that we have pushed Jesus out of the center?  And even out of the church?   If we are pursuing something other than Christ, we too are growing lukewarm.

An account Scottish pastor, Ebenezer Erskine, illustrates this well.

A lady who was present at the observance of the Lord’s Supper, where Ebenezer Erskine was assisting, was much impressed by his discourse. Having been informed who he was, she went next Sabbath to his own place of worship to hear him. But she felt none of those strong impressions she experienced on the former occasion. Wondering at this, she called on Erskine, and stating the case, asked what might be the reason of such a difference in her feelings; he replied, ‘Madam, the reason is this—last Sabbath you went to hear Jesus Christ; but to-day, you have come to hear Ebenezer Erskine.’

Who do we come to church to see?  What do we come to worship?  Who will we follow?   Whose love constrains and animates us?   If the answer is not ‘Jesus’ you might want to take your temperature.   Are you growing lukewarm?   Join us this week as we consider Revelation 3:14-21 and consider the diagnosis and the remedy for lukewarm Christianity.

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube.  For the Order of Service, click here.

^{Photo by Kane Reinholdtsen on Unsplash}

I grew up in a culturally diverse community.    Nowhere was this more evident than at the Belvedere Plaza Theater.   In the age before Netflix and Hulu we caught the latest flicks on the big screen.   At the Belvedere, watching a movie was a true communal experience.   The audience was fully engaged.   We did not merely watch the drama unfold.   We advised, chided, and cheered the characters, especially if the movie was suspenseful.    The Dolby surround-sound was drowned out by cries of “Girl! Don’t you go in there!”  And “don’t you do it.  You know he’s gonna get you.”  Every warning louder and more earnest than the one before.

Hapless teens strolling through abandoned campgrounds were always walking through doors better left alone.   They clearly needed our counsel.  And my little theater community was not shy about warning them, loudly and colorfully, to watch out and keep out.  Everyone knew that an open door led to nothing good. 

We all have a fear of open doors.   Yes, they represent opportunity, but they also represent uncertainty.   Uncertainty about what is ahead of us and uncertainty about what is inside of us.  We never know what is behind the next door.    Or how we will handle it.   But the open doors we often fear the most, are those the Lord opens.  

Though opened by the Lord who loves us through all eternity, who gives us life and works all things for our good, we struggle to shake off the fear that we know more about our happiness than He does.   That it is somehow a divine trap.  He opens a door that no man can shut.  But will we follow Him to it and through it?  

The message to the Church in Philadelphia in Revelation 3 is remarkable.   Christ has no word of condemnation, only commendation for this church.   His message to them is filled with the imagery of the open door.  He is the Lord who holds the keys.  He is the one who opens doors which no one can close and closes those which no man can open.   Philadelphia was founded as a gateway city — not to defend the Greek cities to the west, but to evangelize peoples of the east with Greek life and culture.   And now the Lord has a more important gospel for the Philadelphian Christians to carry.    

He calls them to the open door.  Doors in the Bible often represent new opportunities for ministry, but they also represent the path from life to death and from loneliness into community.   All these things are part of Christ’s call come to and through the door he has opened.  For Christ not only opens the door but, John’s gospel tells us, He is the door – the way, the truth, and the life.    He is the only way for us to come to the Father, find real community, and pursue a life of meaning and purpose. 

He has opened a door which no man can shut.  Are you afraid to go through it?    Join us this week as we examine the message to the Church in Philadelphia from Revelation 3:7-12 and consider the call to follow Christ through the open door.   

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube.  Click here for the Order of Service.

“Gravity is stronger in my bed.”   My daughter’s insight was incisive.   Certainly, there is some multiplier, some unaccounted for coefficient in the calculus of rising from bed that makes it so difficult.   As a young man, getting up was a challenge.   I had multiple alarm clocks, hidden in different places (but never the same places twice) to get me on my feet for that early morning appointment.  But all too often, even this dynamic algorithm was not enough.   Forcing yourself awake is hard.   Clearing away the fog of the dream world and breaking free of nocturnal atrophy takes a strong act of will.

But staying awake can be equally demanding.   Pulling an all-nighter seems like a bold stroke at 7:00 pm.  But at 3:00 am when the euphoria takes hold and every bad pun becomes hilarious, the wisdom of this stratagem wanes.   As a software engineer, I pulled many all-nighters.   The challenge to stay focused, stay sharp, and guard against the careless mistake or misstep grows exponentially as night plods toward dawn.   But with every passing hour, vigilance becomes more critical to success.  Especially as downtime is winding down and users are waking to work.

Staying awake, remaining on guard, staying on track is an occupational hazard of the third-shift.   The sunless, sleepless hours draw minds and bodies toward drowsy and dangerous complacency.   But falling asleep is an even great danger in our spiritual lives.   Persecution and adversity are enemies to our faith.  But complacency is equally deadly.  Yet much more subtle and common.  The Bible warns us from cover to cover to “watch out,” “take heed,” and remain vigilant. 

This is the warning to the Church in Sardis in Revelation 3.   To the world they seemed alive.   They did the things churches do.  They said the things Christians said.  They were untroubled by persecution or pressure.   But complacency was their undoing.   Despite appearances they were dead.   And Jesus warns them to “wake up.”    Their complacency was proverbial in the ancient world.  Twice the seemingly impregnable citadel of Sardis had been captured, simply by a failure to remain on guard.

Sardis had once been the jewel of the Lydian empire, ruled by Croesus, a fabulously wealthy and ambitious king.   So ambitious that he dreamed of victory over Cyrus and the Persians.   Croesus inquired of the Oracle at Delphi about his chances.  She told him that war with Cyrus would result in the “downfall of a great empire.”   But he never guessed this meant his own.    After a series of humiliating defeats, Croesus, retreated to the safety of Sardis.

High on Mt. Tmolus in western Turkey, sheer cliffs protected Sardis on three sides.   It could be easily defended by a small force.   But Cyrus always thought outside the box.   He offered a large reward to any man who could find a way into the city.  A Persian guard, Hyroeades, scanning the walls, noticed a Lydian soldier drop his helmet from the defenses then climb down to retrieve it.   Sensing an opportunity, Hyroeades led a small group of men to find and make the harrowing climb.   When they reached the battlements, they discovered them completely unguarded.  

In their complacency and overconfidence, the Lydians did not even post a guard.  Hyroeades threw open the gates and the city fell.    The story of Sardis’ fall is proverbial.   But it was a proverb they never took to heart.   This story repeated itself a few hundred years later following the conquests of Alexander the Great.   And at the time Revelation was written it repeated itself in the life of the Church in Sardis.

How careful are we to be on guard in our spiritual life?   In Gethsemane, Jesus’ disciples could not stay awake.   How crushing it must have been to hear Jesus’ lament.

And he came to the disciples and found them sleeping. And he said to Peter, “So, could you not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Again, for the second time, he went away and prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” And again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy.

Matthew 26:40-42

What about you?  Are you spiritually asleep?  Has the relative safety and comfort of being a Christian in our culture caused you to leave your life unguarded?  How easily does the enemy of your soul exploit the unguarded areas of your thoughts, your words, your actions, your loves, and your ambitions?   Jesus commanded to the Church is Sardis is to “stay awake,” remain watchful.   For the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.  

Paul’s warning to the Corinthians is apt for us. “Therefore let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall.” 1 Corinthians 10:12.   How watchful are you?   Are you struggling to stay awake in your spiritual life?   Join us this week as we examine Revelation 3:1-6 and consider the call to “wake up.”   

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube. 

Three strikes and you’re out!  Even if you are not a baseball fan you know what it means.  No more chances.   Now you must face the consequences.   As a boy, I heard this phrase often.   After all, I grew up in Atlanta listening to the Braves during the Seventies.   If you followed the Braves in the Nineties, you remember the rousing sounds of a packed Braves’ stadium, thundering with the tomahawk chant and chop.  But in the Seventies, there were no crowds, no chants, and very few sightings of Chief Noc-A-Homa (let the reader understand). 

There were a few bright spots.  Men like “Hammering” Hank Aaron and Phil Niekro labored for what must have felt like a lifetime with other legendary cellar-dwelling Braves.   But for diehard fans like my mother, there was little to celebrate.  In those days the Braves could hardly give tickets away.   My mother and I attended many games on 25 cent “knot hole” tickets.  The schools also gave away scores of tickets to students with good grades.

But my mother never gave up on her beloved Braves.  Summer evenings were spent sitting on our carport listening on the transistor radio to Ernie Johnson, Pete Van Wieren, and Skip Caray call the “balls and [mostly] strikes.”  She was a die-hard fan, ever optimistic.  You had to be to be a Braves’ fan.   I always regretted that she did not live to see the Braves in the World Series.

Three strikes and you’re out.  No more chances.   While this is the rule in baseball, it is not the rule of grace and life together in the church.   The community of grace, the body of Christ, the Church is characterized not by three strikes, but three marks.  The faithful preaching of the Word, faithful administration of the sacraments, and faithful exercise of discipline.  Three marks which are interrelated and indispensable.   These are means of grace, given so we might grow in the grace and knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ and in love, service and devotion to one another.

Many churches boast faithful preaching and teaching.  Some carefully observe the sacraments, baptism and the Lord’s Supper.  But how many practice discipline?   Discipline is hard.  Hard for those who receive it.  And as our fathers assured us, hard for the ones administering it.   As in parenting, discipline is often messy and inconvenient.  It is easier to let things slide.  Easier to ignore problems, hoping everything will “just work out.”  But it never does.   Because we assume discipline only leads to division and departure, we avoid it like the plague.    But peace, purity, and prosperity in a family, especially a church family, never comes by neglecting discipline.   Quite the contrary.

This is the message to the churches in Pergamum and Thyatira in Revelation 2.   Both churches are highly praised.   The church in Pergamum held fast against intense persecution.   Pergamum was the epicenter of a hostile, Satanic culture, yet the believers there had not wavered – even in the face of martyrdom.   And the Christians of Thyatira were praised not only for their love, faith, service and patient endurance, but for growth in each of these areas.   Unlike the Ephesians, their latter works exceed the first.  

At first glance, these churches appeared solid and impregnable.   But as is often the case, the greatest threat to a church is not from the outside, but from within.   False teachers were promoting compromise with the gods of culture and commerce.   “Go along to get along” was their theme.   And the churches tolerated it.   Disguised as ‘seeker sensitivity’ and ‘cultural awareness,’ this false teaching continued unchallenged.   And the false teachers continued undisciplined.    

For all their merits, their lack of discipline was a serious demerit.  So serious that Jesus threatened to “war against them with the sword of his mouth” and “throw [false teachers] onto a sick bed and those who commit adultery with [them] … into tribulation.”  And even to strike some dead so that all the churches would know that he is the one “who searches mind and heart.”   This was the most severe threat issued yet to the Seven Churches.  

Failure to discipline is deadly.  Deadly to a church and deadly to its members.   We might think it more loving to avoid it.   But discipline is a mark of real love.  Jesus takes discipline seriously.   Do we?  Join us this week as we examine Revelation 2:12-29 and consider why the Church struggles to practice discipline but why we must.    

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube. 

^{Photo by Mike Bowman on Unsplash}

One of creation’s great wonders is water.   The earth and its inhabitants are made of it.   Unlike most matter, water rebels against convention as it moves from liquid to solid.   While most substances become denser when they freeze, water expands.    And in a world teeming with aquatic life, that difference is crucial.  Ice floats.   If it sank, aquatic life would be forced to the surface as lakes, ponds, and rivers froze, depriving plants and creatures of warmth and oxygen.  But in God’s remarkable design, ice floats, insulating and preserving aquatic life.

This past week, however, many discovered that what is a blessing to fish, is not so great for plumbing.   Added to the sounds of children sledding and car wheels spinning, was the groaning of pipes and the rushing of water.   The pipes under our house burst.   Or rather should I say, one pipe burst.   The rupture to a single span of copper pipe was only half an inch long.   Yet the force and volume of the leak was prodigious.  The sound was like the sound of many rushing waters.   The pressure required to get water from lake to tap is immense.  And in a frozen instant, that pressure can bring unbelievable destruction.

And, so it is with the circumstances of our lives.   We live under the pressure of uncertainty.  We try to prepare, to plan, to insulate and anticipate.   Yet we can never get it quite right.  We all think want to know the future.  That is, until we do.   The older you get, the more you realize that prescience is not a panacea.   Foresight, when we get it, frustrates because we rarely have the power to alter or avert what is foreseen.   Foreknowledge without omnipotence easily leads to paralysis.    A pastor once commented that “anxiety comes from an awareness of our finitude.”   Hence, we say “ignorance is bliss.”  Or as Wendell Berry expressed it through Port William resident, Mat Feltner, “The mercy of the world is that you don’t know what’s going to happen.”   But ignorance is only mercy if you know and trust the one who is neither ignorant nor impotent regarding the future.

Jesus’ message to the Church in Smyrna in the Revelation is remarkable.   It contains neither commendation, nor condemnation.   Jesus never says, ‘nevertheless, this I have against you.’   This brief message has but one message, “hold fast!”   No matter what comes, “hold fast!”  The pressures building against Christians in Smyrna were dire and intense.   And worse, they were betrayed by those who ought to have been brothers.    Jesus words are concise and succinct.   “Be faithful unto death.”   How would you like to receive this message?   No matter what happens do not break with your faith.  Do not turn away.   Do not compromise.   Rest in the Faithful One, the first and the last, who died and came to life.

Persecution comes in all different shapes, sizes, and intensities.  We do not get to pick our cross.  We are only instructed to pick it up and carry it.   Paul wrote to Timothy, “all who live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.”  (2 Timothy 3:12)   Perhaps that is not what you signed up for when you gave your life to Christ.  But there it is.   We may seek compromise to avoid it.  Or seek mere relief rather than peace.   But consider the words of Ralph Erskine.  ”Some may bless themselves they were never assaulted by the devil and yet they are but sleeping, as it were, in the devil’s cradle and he is rocking them.”

What is your response to persecution?  To the intense pressure that comes with taking up a cross and following Christ?   Where will you seek rest?  In the promises of the Faithful one or the devil’s cradle?  Join us this week as we continue our survey Revelation as we examine the message to the Church in Smyrna in Revelation 2:8-11 and its encouragement to persevere in the face of extreme pressure.

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube. 

Are you overwhelmed yet?  Every sphere of life seems turned upside down right now.  Surely we have learned not to ask, “how much worse can it get?”   But with every news-cycle, the catalog of catastrophes expands.   While not to the level of the Biblical plagues, we can well imagine how the people of Ramses’ Egypt felt.   Just when you think it can’t get any worse, it does.    But as bad as the circumstances of last year have been, even worse are the downstream consequences.    Life has always been uncertain, but we feel it more keenly now.  And with that, mental, emotional, and spiritual crises have produced a far greater impact than the events that triggered them. 

A recent article in JAMA, makes some pretty startling observations.

Since February 2020, the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic has led to at least 200 000 deaths in the US and 1 million deaths worldwide. These numbers probably underestimate COVID-19 deaths by 50%, with excess cardiovascular, metabolic, and dementia-related deaths likely misclassified COVID-19 deaths.

This devastating pandemic has affected nearly every aspect of daily life. While nations struggle to manage the initial waves of the death and disruption associated with the pandemic, accumulating evidence indicates another “second wave” is building: rising rates of mental health and substance use disorders.

This magnitude of death over a short period of time is an international tragedy on a historic scale. Focusing on the US, the number of deaths currently attributable to COVID-19 is nearly 4 times the number killed during the Vietnam War. This interpersonal loss at a massive scale is compounded by societal disruption. The necessary social distancing and quarantine measures implemented as mitigation strategies have significantly amplified emotional turmoil by substantially changing the social fabric by which individuals, families, communities, and nations cope with tragedy. The effect is multidimensional disruption of employment, finances, education, health care, food security, transportation, recreation, cultural and religious practices, and the ability of personal support networks and communities to come together and grieve.

A June 2020 survey from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention of 5412 US adults found that 40.9% of respondents reported “at least one adverse mental or behavioral health condition,” including depression, anxiety, posttraumatic stress, and substance abuse, with rates that were 3 to 4 times the rates 1 year earlier.² Remarkably, 10.7% of respondents reported seriously considering suicide in the last 30 days.² The sudden interpersonal loss associated with COVID-19, along with severe social disruption, can easily overwhelm the ways individuals and families cope with bereavement.

The events of 2020 were bad.   And, unfortunately, for many, 2021 may get worse.   As Christians, how do we respond when life is absolutely overwhelming?   We profess that our faith gives us strength “many trials of various kinds.”  We are instructed to “count it all joy.”   We declare that we can endure “all things through Christ who strengthens us.”   We have an expectation that things will work out because, “if God is for us, who can be against us.”  Yet, when things go from bad to worse, how do those scripture truths hold up as threads in the fabric of our lives.  How do we keep from being overwhelmed? Or do we?

Or perhaps the question is not ‘how do we keep from being overwhelmed,’ but are we ‘overwhelmed by the wrong things?’   The Apostle Paul points to this paradox, writing to the ancient Church at Corinth. 

We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies….  So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. 

2 Corinthians 4:8-10, 16-18

Through a remarkable series of comparisons, Paul admonishes us to be overwhelmed by the grace of God, not the gravity of the present crisis.   Perhaps our problem is that we are overwhelmed by the wrong things?   A friend once noted that ‘fear is simply faith pointed in the wrong direction.’  Are you overwhelmed?  Overwhelmed by fear of what will happen next?  Or overwhelmed with faith in the One who is the same yesterday, today and forever.

Join us this week as we examine 2 Corinthians 4:7-18 and consider the calling as Christians to be overwhelmed by the things that will last forever. 

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube. 

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

Occupational therapy!  That’s what my CrossFit workouts resemble.  Occupational therapy teaches you how to do familiar things in a new and easier way in order to accommodate physical weaknesses or limitations.  I have come to accept that I am, almost without exception, the oldest guy in our CrossFit box.  I am the king of what they call “modifications” and “scaled” workouts.  Rare is the WOD in which I can click Rx on my results.   One modification, I have yet to be able to make, however, is to get the rest of my Wod-mates to accept and acknowledge that 80’s rock is the best music to set the pace for the workout.  My hips don’t hop, and the only pop I am concerned about is the pop in my knee.   

One of my favorites from those BC days was Rush.  Their innovative musicality coupled with evocative lyricism resonated with me as a teenager.   A favorite album was Moving Pictures.  The album’s concept was the great power of poetry and music to tell moving stories – moving pictures. 

Probably all of us have been moved to sorrow, joy, reflection or action by an iconic song, picture or story.  But no story has more moving pictures than the story of redemption, unfolded in the Bible, with its themes of mercy and grace and good triumphing over evil.  The Bible is no mere moralistic litany, it is a living and active story of a mighty hero who through self-sacrifice and great power defeated the arch-enemy of all men, sin and death.  In every vignette, every chapter, this story is unveiled.

Everywhere you look in scripture you see moving pictures of Jesus.  With Abraham on Mt. Moriah, Jesus is there.   With Mephibosheth at David’s table, Jesus is there.   With fearful disciples on the stormy Sea of Galilee, Jesus is there.   And in the midst of seven Asian churches facing persecution and turmoil, Jesus is there.   Painted in the words of Scripture, these moving pictures reveal the presence and power of a Savior who is “God with Us.” While Scripture never describes what Jesus looks like, it thoroughly describes what Jesus is like.  

Nowhere is this idea more vividly portrayed than in John’s inaugural vision in the Revelation.   This vision of Christ among the golden lampstands, is, as pastor Richard Phillips noted.

… representative of God’s intention for the entire book.  John is suffering oppression because of his faith in Jesus.  This first vision sets before him the sovereign glory of Christ, complete with emblems of his triumphant, saving work, so that John will be encourage to endure in worship of and service to his Lord.” 

Reformed Expository Commentary on Revelation, Richard Phillips.

We must fix our eyes on the mighty and victorious Jesus revealed only in Scripture.   Not just the Jesus who was, but the Jesus who is and who is to come.  The one who is the same yesterday, today and forever, the Living One, who died, but is now alive forevermore.  The One who holds the keys to death and hell.   As the author of Hebrews encourages us.

Run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

Hebrews 12:2-3

Adversity is ingrained in the Christian life.   Victory is gained not through avoiding, but overcoming it.   John Calvin observed, “the church of Christ has been so divinely constituted from the beginning that the Cross has been the way to victory, death the way to life.”  Strength to endure adversity, tribulation, and turmoil, comes not from some place deep within us, but from the depths of knowing Christ.  

Join us this week as we continue our survey Revelation as we examine Revelation 1:9-20 and consider how this opening vision reveals, not what Jesus looks like, but what Jesus is like so we might fix our eyes on Him, know Him, and run with endurance.

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube.