To show me His love (again)...

I’ve often questioned God. My questioning has had little to do with the world’s pain and suffering. Scripture has given me a framework for understanding the brokenness of our fallen planet. Additionally, I see in His word that God has a much bigger and better plan at play. I know He’s good and try my best to lean into that when life gets hard. However, I really struggle with His grace, particularly His incredible goodness to entrust me as a parent of four. So my questioning of the Almighty has often gone something like this: “Lord, why, in Your infinite wisdom, have You allowed me to be a dad? I know You’re omniscient and all, so did You just accidentally overlook my scouting report? Did You forget how You made me? God, I’m clearly not cut out for such a task!” I’m curious, have you ever wondered this about yourself?

My wife and I recently found ourselves in the midst of a really hard conversation with one of our children. Our child (which shall remain unnamed) had been disobedient and the root of this kid’s rebellion not only broke trust with us as parents but revealed that this child’s confidence in us was not as strong as we had thought. Brittany and I believed we had built a “safe” environment in our home, that we had laid a solid foundation for future discussion. We thought our children felt they could talk to us about anything. Well, evidently not. No exaggeration, there were portions of this chat with our child that were excruciatingly painful and difficult to navigate. I found myself again asking God, “Why?”

The irony in it all is that God gently provided an answer. It was not an audible voice that I would liken to Morgan Freeman, but it was certainly a clear response. As we considered what this child’s transgression uncovered in our relationship, it was as if God held a mirror up to my own soul. As I was sitting at the table thinking through the scenario with my wife, it hit me. I was so upset and hurt about what had happened. Why wouldn’t this child just trust us? Do we not have much greater knowledge and experience? Is this not what we had warned would happen? Has our love not been proven? For crying out loud, we are for this child!

Then suddenly it dawned on me. Does my disobedience not communicate a similar message to my Father? He has never lied to me; He has never led me astray. His word speaks of His goodness and grace - how He is for me and not against me - how He is good and does good, and promises good to those who love Him. Why would God allow a broken, faulty, beggar like me the privilege of raising His children? To show me His love! How patient is the Father! How kind! How long-suffering He must be, to put up with my wayward heart. I’ve tasted of His mercy, drank deeply from the well of His grace, only to return to the empty cisterns of this world - the sinful defaults of my flesh.

As I agonized over the apparent betrayal of our child, my heart began to hurt for the ways that I’ve been Judas to my Jesus. And there in the middle of this mess, the God of grace began to bring healing. The impossibility of the moment we were in started to feel much more manageable. Because of our experience from previously tough dialogues? No, of course not. The weight of our burden lightened as my wife and I were reminded of this simple truth: He loves our kiddos more. Even on our best days, we will step out of line. We will disappoint them. We will inadvertently fail our children daily, for as long as He’s ordained. But He is perfect. He is worthy of complete trust. Just as He has proven His faithfulness to us, over and over, He will never let them down.

The more I know the Father, the better equipped I am to fulfill the duties of “dad.” The more aware I am of God’s grace and mercy and forgiveness, the far more likely I am to share the same with others. Though I regret the sin that has placed us in this season, I’m grateful for the lessons that we’re learning together. And I’m blown away by the One that would allow it all to happen, if for nothing else, just to show me His love (again).

Matt Fowler
Associate Pastor of Missions & Students
matt@nbchurch.info
@fattmowler

The God of All Grace

“…the God of all grace…” 1 Peter 5:10

What do we do when there's nothing we can do? When we make a mess that cannot be cleaned up, what's next? How do we respond when there's not a redo? When mulligans, second chances, and take-backs are not offered as an option, what else is left?

I ask because this is more than hypothetical. This was recently our reality. We made a mistake that could not be undone. We missed an opportunity that was a one-time deal. There was nothing we could do to right our wrong.

Have you ever been there? Have you ever wounded a loved one with your words? Has "I'm sorry" ever felt insufficient? Have you ever pushed things too far? Have you ever forgotten an important date or event? Have you ever been careless or just accidentally blown it? If it couldn't be fixed, if reconciliation couldn't be found, then you can surely relate.

So how did we respond, you ask? Well, honestly, we grieved. Filled with frustration and disappointment in ourselves due to our self-inflicted loss, we cried. We searched for tangible ways to make things better and came up empty. Our attempts were futile. Time had expired and our chance had passed, so we did the only thing we could... We asked for mercy.

In this particular scenario, much grace was extended our way. Forgiveness was offered and the world apparently will not come to an end on account of our blunder. Nevertheless, this fact remains: we cannot fix our past failure.

"Man Matt, you're being really vague." Well, that's because the details are beside the point. We fouled up and will likely live long enough to let folks down again. Maybe I'll share the specifics sometime later on down the road, but it's still, as the kids say, “Too soon!”

While I would gladly fly Doc Brown's Delorean back in time a few days if I could, I must admit that I'm grateful for what this failure has reminded me. This is exactly where I once stood with God. In fact, it is where we all would be, if not for Christ. Without Him we are utterly helpless. We are dead in our sins. The ability to reach reconciliation does not reside in us. We have erred and if left alone, face an insurmountable deficit. I was completely powerless to improve my situation with the holy and righteous God of the universe.

I’m not saying that I couldn’t ask for forgiveness – that I couldn’t repent and plead for mercy. I’m saying that’s all I could do. I could not undo my sin. I couldn’t take back my selfishness. I couldn’t retract the worship I had given the idols of my heart. I could not become faultless. Plain and simple, I was guilty.

Yet, what’s even more remarkable is that the only thing I could do (repent), I didn’t want to do. So while my wife and I messed up this past weekend, knew it immediately, and desired to make things right, on my own, I would never have desired a restored relationship with God. Scripture tells us that none come to the Son unless the Father draws them (John 6:44). Again, I was dead in my trespasses (Ephesians 2:1-3).

“But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ – by grace you have been saved – and raised us up with Him and seated us in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages He might show the immeasurable riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast (Ephesians 2:4-9 ESV).

Truly, how wonderful is this truth! Dead, disobedient, rebellious, and deserving of wrath, yet now through Jesus’ blood, we’re recipients of His grace and mercy. Again, I have much regret for falling short and injuring ones we so dearly love. At the same time, my appreciation for God’s love and unmerited goodness has been rekindled on account of our slip up.

And what if that’s the point? What if we are allowed to blow it from time to time so that we might remember our great salvation? What if we are occasionally brought low to turn our eyes to the heavens? Would a regular recollection of God’s grace help us be more gracious to each other? Would it perhaps enable us to grant a little more grace to ourselves?

May today’s struggles and missteps serve as arrows pointing you to Him, the God of all grace.

Matt Fowler
Associate Pastor of Missions & Students
matt@nbchurch.info
@fattmowler

Make a point to pause...

I remember the days of old; I meditate on all that You have done; I ponder the work of Your hands. I stretch out my hands to You; my soul thirsts for You like a parched land. Selah  - Psalm 143:5-6

Remember that initial taste of grace? Can you recall the sweetness of that first sip? Though your cup now runs over with great favor, do you ever think back to those earliest hours, when His loving kindness was brand new to the soul?

Does it still blow your mind to consider how mercifully He has dealt with His people from Genesis until now? He makes promises and fulfills them. He stays faithful and true, despite our wandering eyes. Time after time He delivers us from the clutches of death, giving us a hope that we in no way deserve. Is that still an incredible thought?

What about His common grace to mankind? Though many deny His existence, spitting in the very face of their Creator, He waits, leaving enough knowledge of Himself within the created universe and the human conscious to render each man guilty, without excuse. In a single word He could crush and annihilate, justly pouring out His righteous wrath upon disobedient idolaters, but He remains patient and long-suffering. 

Do you often mediate on all that He has done? That is, do you regularly stand in awe while you consider the small glimpses He's allowed you to see? Certainly, no finite mind can fathom the enormity and intricacy of His works - all that’s crafted by the hands of the eternal, immortal, invisible King of the ages. Yet what do we do with what we are able to see? Though the fullness of all He’s done is incomprehensible, is it not simultaneously praiseworthy? This was David's approach. "I remember the days of old; I meditate on all that You have done; I ponder the work of Your hands (v.5)."

And notice how his contemplation leads to trust, worship, and an ultimate longing for the Lord. The psalmist says, "I stretch out my hands to You (v.6)." As he considers God's faithful provision, His unmerited grace and favor, He is filled with gratitude. He worships. He rejoices from the innermost part of his being. And like the desperation of one deserted in the wilderness, he desires the quenching satisfaction that can only come from the Lord. He longs for God; He yearns for the presence of his Heavenly Father.

And finally, a word follows that is not to be overlooked, "Selah." Traditionally, most have agreed that this term is meant to encourage a pause. Selah, stop and reflect; take time to consider what you just heard; think about the words you just sang. Ponder, wonder, mediate upon your God.

I believe we would do well to do the same. Might we follow King David’s example and consider the works of the Lord. As much grace as he was given, have we not been blessed with more? We wait not for the appearance of the Messiah, we long for His return! We read and observe how the prophecies of the psalms were fulfilled in the cross. Yes, we have a much more privileged historical point of view. Will our worshipful reflection be indicative of such grace? May we think on Him, be thankful for Him, and thirst for fellowship with Him. For our joy and His glory, might we make a point to pause.

Matt Fowler
Associate Pastor of Missions & Students
matt@nbchurch.info
@fattmowler

Cinco Celebration

Today is an important day for our family, one we refer to in our home as Cinco Celebration. For it was on this very date two years ago that my wife officially became the legal guardian and mother of our three oldest children. Although our kiddos already considered Brittany their mother and had been calling her “mama” for much longer than that, there was something especially beautiful about the adoption ceremony. Joined by many friends and family in the quaint quarters of a courtroom, we rejoiced as Judge Harris announced his final decree. When I reflect back on that moment I’m filled with gratitude, for God’s goodness and provision, for His redemptive and restorative work in our family, and for the precious opportunity the day has afforded.

It is one thing to experience the incredible love that a parent has for their children, yet quite another thing to express that kind of love. No matter how hard I try, my words always fall short. In this regard, I’m actually a bit jealous of B. At best, as biological father, I could only agree in principle to love what I thought Brooks, Chandler, and Matilyn might potentially become. I did not have the opportunity to weigh all the pros and cons. I don’t remember thinking about the sleepless nights that would come. I cannot remember being afraid of high fevers that would accompany severe illness, being angered about food and drink that would eventually soil new carpet, or feeling the panic of children thoughtlessly running toward a busy street of traffic. I do not recall considering how these niños would zap me of my financial and energy resources, how they would learn to backtalk, roll their eyes, smell, rebel, and the like. All of that was a possibility but just not known. My pre-parenting thoughts were only of the positive variety - playing catch in the backyard, going camping, cuddling on the couch, etc.

Brittany, however, was able to make a much more informed, educated decision before entering parenthood. Sure she saw the cuteness and creativity of the trio, but she also observed the messiness of their pre-adolescent depravity. Sin was not something they merely had the propensity to do, but an area in which they had already become pretty skilled. As apparent as my scars were to my wife, the kids warts and blemishes were equally obvious as well. As sweet as they were, they promised to certainly be a handful. And yet she said to them, “I love you and I want you to know that you are deeply cared for. You are not just like my own, you are mine! You belong to me. I choose you and promise to love and protect you for the rest of my life.” So while the biological parent rolls the dice and takes a chance on maybe receiving a lemon (just teasing folks), the adoptive parent has a detailed CarFax, so to speak. And in this particular sense, adoption’s expression of love is much greater than that of a bio mom or dad.

When I above mentioned how thankful I am for the opportunity May 23rd has given, to be clear, I’m not referencing Brittany. I’m glad that she can articulate her affection for our bigs, but I’m most grateful that through Cinco Celebration we can describe God’s divine love for our family and for others. Indeed, the best part of our story is that it lends to sharing His! We have been able to table with seekers and saints alike to talk about the Father’s amazing love for us - how He has chosen us to carry His name forward, not because He had to, not because He was obligated, but because He is rich in mercy and full of grace. We’ve been privileged to share that though the world left us to fend for ourselves, abandoned and alone, Christ came that we might find our true haven of rest in Him. Despite being deceived and despised, betrayed and bequeathed nothing more than the grave, Jesus intervened and the Light interrupted the dark. Yes, He did the most unimaginable thing.

Despite being absent so much as a single righteous strand, Christ Jesus chose us. He picked us not because of our potential, our accomplishments, our deeds, or because of our dedication to work really hard to be better. In fact, we were steeped in our sin. Weak, ungodly, rebellious, enemies of God is exactly what we were. Like a child sitting in his own filth, we desperately needed a new garment, yet we were completely incapable of making the necessary change. We were not told to get cleaned up first - “Hey, go bathe and I might come back.” There was no requirement to shower and shave and shine up our shoes. No, Jesus gently reached down and made our dead hearts beat; He opened our blind eyes to see; He robed us in His righteousness and spoke the most precious word when He said, “Mine!” Our souls cried out as those filled with joy unspeakable and full of glory. Though once alienated from God, stuck in the disgust of sin, our Savior now calls us friend, co-heir. The Spirit calls us His temple, and the Father irrevocably calls us His sons and daughters.

What an amazing gift! Such an unmerited treasure is this! It does not eliminate all of life’s hurt and difficulty in the present. There is a baggage that comes with being abandoned. But to be sure, there is healing and hope in adoption. This year we will party as a family of 6 (as Charlotte is nearly 8 months old), and who knows, perhaps the Lord will numerically grow us to 7 or 8 or 9 (just kidding B)? However, May 23rd will always be known as our Cinco Celebration because we are remembering something much bigger than our little family, we are recalling how Jesus’ cross has made us part of His.

Matt Fowler
Associate Pastor of Missions & Students
matt@nbchurch.info
@fattmowler

Esau or Zion?

“But in Zion there shall be those who escape…” Obadiah v.17

After reading Obadiah, here’s the question we each must give a response. Do we take refuge in Mount Esau or Mount Zion? Now, at a surface level, this seems too easy an answer. Though an understanding of Zion develops from the OT to the NT, the biblical narrative consistently portrays Zion as a place of rest and refuge for God’s people (i.e. 2 Samuel 5:7, Psalm 2:6, 48:2, 137:3, Isaiah 46:13, Jeremiah 8:19, Hebrews 12:22, Romans 9:33, Revelation 14:1). Throughout Scripture it is shown as a symbol of God’s kingdom, His power and presence. He dwells in Zion, and one day His saints will make their dwelling on that same holy hill. Since Jesus is the cornerstone of Zion, as believers, we ought to desire nothing more than to be found there as well - in Christ, right (1 Peter 2:6, Isaiah 28:16)? On the other hand, “Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated (Romans 9:13, Malachi 1:2-3).” Without diving into each of the theological implications of this statement, we can all agree that we long for the favor of Jacob’s offspring. Just a cursory reading from Moses’ first book (Genesis 25-33) and a brief observation of the outcome for Esau’s descendants (here in Obadiah, noticing how they are sternly warned of impending judgment), and it becomes quite clear. We don’t want to make our nest in the cleft of such rock; we want to be found in Zion.

Nevertheless, I contend that despite this obvious contrast, we all tend to cling to Mount Esau much more than we might think. To make that an “I statement,” let me clarify. I unfortunately see these tendencies in me. I’ve discovered there are a couple of ways to approach this mountain. I’ve taken it on like the younger brother; yes, I’ve been atop this hill as the prodigal (see Luke 15:11-32). In those seasons I outright rebelled against my Father. I chose my ways over His, and scaled Edom’s cliffs recklessly untethered to any harness of hope. Yet, I’ve also carefully traversed the rocky terrain and climbed the face of Mount Esau like the older brother. I kept the rules, did my job (quite well I might add), and began to believe that my own self-righteousness was enough. I was morally above reproach, nobly upright before my peers, and far more careful than my days of disobedience. I wisely used the path of safety and carefully made my way to the peak. I’ve summited Esau wearing villainous black and pristine white; I’ve been there in moments completely aware of my sinfulness and other times far more certain of my good deeds.

Here’s the point of Mount Esau and why it is so darn tempting. It is something we can do. It is a height we can achieve. Whenever we place our trust in someone or something outside of Christ, we build our fort into that mountain. When we follow our flesh, we bring Edom’s judgment and doom upon our own heads (Obadiah 1:15). Yet also notice that when we place faith in our abilities - our resources - our reputation - our positional, comparative strength to others and the like, we align ourselves with the disobedience of Esau, not the God of Jacob. See, while we can climb to the heights of Edom, we cannot climb Mount Zion. In our own strength, we cannot make it up that holy hill; we cannot look upon the sights of that city; no amount of “right living” gains our entrance into His kingdom. Because of this, we are tempted to see what we can do. What we can produce, achieve, compile, etc. often feels more certain.

God’s people had been overtaken by their enemies and Edom was convicted of being a gloating onlooker, instead of a merciful neighbor (Obadiah 1:10-14). In that time it likely felt that God had forsaken His people. However, who is Obadiah written to? To Edom. What is the central message? God makes it clear that those who disregard His ways and mess with His people will be judged; they will be forced to answer for their transgressions; they will have to give an account for their pride and indifference. We may feel forgotten and begin to pack our bag for a hike up Mount Esau. But we must remember, the promise is not in Esau, but for those in Zion. “But in Zion there shall be those who escape (Obadiah 1:17)…” 

The warning of verse 15 is just as much an invitation as it is a threat. It did not have to be this way for Edom. Repentance would have changed their plight. There is no blanket judgment for all peoples and nations. Rather, the question is before each of us individually - will we be found in Esau or in Zion? Will we be found trusting in Christ or utterly lost in our rejection of Him? It may appear that God is distant and that we are slowly being overtaken by our adversary, but God is ever-present in our trouble. He provides for the needs of His children. Though based upon our own merit we could never step foot in His holy city, our entrance is now available through the atoning work of His Son on the cross. Our deeds, the best and worst of them, are worthy of death and eternal separation from the Father, but Jesus paid the price for our rebellion as the perfect sacrifice for our sin. And if God has provided for our greatest need, will He not stand with us in our daily trials as well? Zion will rule over Esau (Obadiah 1:17, 21). Christ’s elect will reign with Him in glory. There is escape, refuge, and a future in Zion - in Christ - in obedience to the Father. Will we be found there, faithfully resting in the hope of His holy mountain?

Matt Fowler

Associate Pastor of Missions & Students

matt@nbchurch.info

@fattmowler

Just like one of them...

“…you were like one of them.” Obadiah v.11

Life is more than what we do. What we neglect doing is just as important. Consider Esau’s descendants. Obadiah warned of their impending judgment, but why? What had they done? They were not the foreign invaders; they had not acted violently toward brother Jacob. No, but they had missed doing the right thing. They failed to bring aid and assistance to Judah in their time of need. They stood aloof while Jerusalem was attacked and looted; they were like one of the those enemies that busted up the gates. Because of this the Lord spoke a word of warning through his prophet, “As you have done, it shall be done to you; your deeds shall return upon your own head (v.15).”

Is there anything here for us? Let’s evaluate. Are we guilty of not doing the good we should? Do we passively watch as evil is enacted against those we are called to protect? Do we point fingers at the Babylonian-like transgressors of our day, failing to acknowledge the plank of indifference and apathy lodged squarely in our own eye? Are we believers involved in fighting for the life of the unborn? Do we welcome the refugee stranger among us? Does the fear of potential danger trump our obedience to Jesus’ commission? Is the applaud of Christ less desirable than the affirmation of our friends? Do we truly value others as fellow image bearers of the King? Surely racism and discrimination are not still evidenced within the church!

The Edomites were proud; we know this from Obadiah’s introduction. They were confident in the positional strength of their fortification (v.3-4). But perhaps they were also afraid. Maybe that’s why they wrongly remained neutral, refusing to offer Judah military reinforcement. But it also seems they enjoyed watching the demise of their neighbor (v.12-14). They gloated over the hardships of Jacob and covetously rejoiced in their day of trouble. And because of this, judgment was on the way. 

“So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin (James 4:17).” How different would this world be, if we who profess Christ with our lips, walked in the way of our Lord and Savior by faithfully living out this verse today? Friend, there is plenty of corruption in the world. But does our depravity darken the day as well? Racism, abortion, adoption, immigration, and the like, our the pressing topics of the day. How will we respond moving forward? Will we address the sins of our past and the societal ills of the hour? Will we courageously confront darkness with the hope and truth of gospel light? If not actively involved in contending for the faith, we will continue to sin ourselves, and in the end be found, just like one of them.

Matt Fowler
Associate Pastor of Missions & Students
matt@nbchurch.info
@fattmowler

A Helpful Reminder

“My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” - Psalm 121:2

Consider today this blessed thought. Dear saint, your help comes from the Lord. It does not reside in your limited abilities, nor is it found within your measly circumstances. No, your help, indeed, your hope is found in none other than God Almighty. The One who spoke the world into existence is right by your side. In fact, better than that, He is within you. 

Now, why might it be to our advantage to remember this today? Well, despite our feelings of frailty and dismay, we have every reason to face this week in full confidence that whatever our need, He can provide. His resources have no limit; there is no task too big for our God. We just need to look out the window for evidence of this. The one who designed this beautiful planet, He who spoke the wondrous skies into existence, He is our help.

But then, perhaps we enter this Monday falsely clinging to someone or something that is far less certain. We feel good about our position in life; we’re doing well at work; we seem successful at home. We must remember that our help is from above. Nothing here below can make that claim. To see ourselves as sufficient for our day-to-day tasks, is simply setting ourselves up for disappointment. Our help comes from the Lord.

Meditation on this simple verse should move beyond us as well. For if our confidence is found in heaven’s Maker, then no accomplishment or set of achievements can be attributed to our creative strengths or efforts. Glory will rightly return to the One who is worthy. If trouble comes our way this week, will we be looking to our savings or our Savior? Our resourcefulness or our Sustainer? Will such dependence upon the Lord not ultimately point others to their only Helper as well?

Our help has come from God alone. It will continue to pour forth from His endless fountain of grace. The One who fashioned all that we can observe and the vast galaxies beyond what we can see, was intricately involved in making you and me. He has given us life and breath and everything else. He has formed our shapes, sizes, and personal dispositions as He so pleased. He is our help and the hope of the nations. Let us embrace the week with this truth before us. Our help comes from the Lord!

Matt Fowler
Associate Pastor of Missions & Students
matt@nbchurch.info
@fattmowler

We just don't know...

Once upon a time there was a medium-sized church on the outskirts of town. It was close enough to town to be part of the community, yet removed from the hustle and bustle, traffic and busyness that came inside the city limits. It was a cozy house of worship, a place where babes were regularly dedicated to the Lord, believers were baptized often, and the gospel was weekly preached and rejoiced in through song. The congregants were regularly challenged to be the hands and feet of Jesus by applying all that they were learning to their everyday lives.

Meanwhile, down the street from this church lived a lonely man. While the joy of Christ was celebrated each Sunday just across the pasture, this man struggled to make ends meet. His life was anything but a celebration. He worked hard with his hands and toiled just to keep things afloat; he labored like a dog to pay the bills and supply for the needs of his family. Despite his best efforts, it seemed he just couldn't ever quite keep up. He was constantly competing with all kinds of adversity.

His family had experienced death and disease firsthand. Children aren't supposed to outlive their parents, but that wasn't this man's story. His marriage was never the same after their sudden loss. Still he was unaware of how bad it had become. When a stranger came knocking on his door with divorce papers in hand, it caught him completely off-guard. It was as unforeseen as the high fever that took his son's life years before. Overnight his wife was up and gone. He tried his best to care for his parents after they became ill at old age, but their needs were too much. 

The overwhelming amount of disappointments slowly accumulated through the years and minus an outlet, without any glimmer of hope, the man felt trapped to commit the most tragic act of desperation. Alone and isolated, believing he had nowhere to go, no one to which he could turn, he sadly decided to take his own life.

The church was still located down the street. It was still so close that when the wind blew just right on Sunday mornings, the choir could be heard from the man's front porch. People weekly drove from all over the county to participate in the church gatherings. Surely people lived nearby him; certainly people drove past his house on their way to worship. Nevertheless, no one even knew of his demise until it was too late. Not until it hit the paper was anyone aware. Some would give it thought, "Wait, was that the guy who lived at the house on the corner?" Yet many would skip right over it as it blended in with the rest of the "news" - wars, politics, sports, entertainment, and the like. For most, the heavy weight of this reality was missed. For others it was simply realized too late.

This is only a story, but one inspired by events that are all too real. I don't share to be bummer; I have no desire to start the week off sad and in despair. Yet, it is worth asking this. When tragedies like I've described occur, and they most certainly do happen, what are we to do? I mean, we can't roll back the clock to save the day. No, but perhaps we could spend some time in reflection. 

Is the church meant to be a building or a people? We're not supposed to neglect the meeting and gathering together, of course, but aren't we also called to scatter as the church on mission? Aren't we also called to be salt and light? Do you think anyone crosses the paths of those so terribly distraught? Do you figure you and I have passed by them before? Aren't they usually someone's neighbor? Aren't they most likely the relative of another? Maybe a co-worker of a person of faith? The saddest part of this story is that we just don't know.

Matt Fowler
Associate Pastor of Missions & Students
matt@nbchurch.info
@fattmowler

A Poor Misunderstanding

What keeps you from praying? As I have looked inwardly for my own answers to this question, I’ve discovered many reasons – laziness, apathy, selfishness, ingratitude, and indifference, just to name a few. Yet the major overall cause seems to be that I have a poor misunderstanding of both the privilege and responsibility of prayer. 

I remember helping with one of our son’s baseball teams for a couple summers. I was the fourth coach – the bench coach, also known as the “cry coach.” If a kid struck out looking and came to the bench in tears, it was my job to tell him it was gonna be “okay.” If the “bad cop” head coach got on to one of the youngsters, I got to help cheer him up. My duties also included big tasks like keeping everyone in the right batting order – “Hey Johnny, you hit after Billy.” It wasn’t that this was too difficult for me, but I felt like I should be doing more.

I grew up on a baseball field. My first and last childhood homes were both within the shadows of a baseball field’s light poles. My dad was a coach and baseball was just part of our life. I hung out in dugouts, learned to do homework in the bleachers, and could find ways to sleep on any old bumpy yellow school bus. I was throwing and hitting a baseball from as early as I can remember. I grew up truly loving the game. I was allowed to play every summer and became decent enough to extend my playing career through college. 

And since my dad specifically told me to not go into coaching, that’s exactly what I did. I graduated and became a teacher and coach just like him. I had been head coach of a high school program for several years before entering ministry at a full-time capacity. My teams were never world-beaters but we won consistently and were usually considered a competitive, respectable club. I say all of this only to help you understand how it felt to simply be a bench coach. Not the head coach, not the first base coach or the pitching coach, but the, “Too bad you have a trampoline in your mitt, you’ll catch the next one!” coach? 

I thought I could do more – should do more; the job felt a bit beneath me; the task was too menial; the role was too simple. And the more I think about it, this precisely describes my attitude toward prayer (at times). “God, is that all you have for me to do? Surely there is something more I could help You with. Perhaps I could preach the gospel to thousands for You… Maybe You need someone to lead that next mission trip or service project?” Often I approach prayer as though it is the duty of the fourth coach; this prayer stuff is for the junior varsity believers, not me. I act as though it is somehow below my skill set (though I’d never actually voice it this way to anyone) or just really not all that important. 

Well, it is hard to admit, but sometimes that’s me… and it’s a shame. To see prayer in such false light is a grievous error! Truth is this: prayer is foundational to the faith. As it is with the gospel, so it is with prayer; Christ-followers never move beyond prayer, only more deeply into it. In fact, a redeemed soul should see the blessed privilege it is to have direct access to the Father. For such communion is indeed the Spirit’s means for sustaining the saints.

Prayer is instrumental to the faith – a blessed honor for all who believe. A cursory view of Paul’s letters to the churches makes it clear, that it is not only a prized privilege, but also a responsibility of the righteous. As we briefly examine the following passages and verses (only a handful from one NT writer), let’s consider whether prayer seems an invitation or a command? Is it an extra credit option or an expectation?

Here are just a few…

Romans 12:12 – “Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.”

Philippians 4:6 – “ ...do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”

1^st Thessalonians 5:17 – “…pray without ceasing.” 

Colossians 4:2 – “Continue steadfastly in prayer…” There is an understanding that prayer is already happening (compare this to Jesus’ “when you pray” statements in Matthew 6:5-13). Paul says to continue steadfastly. “…being watchful in it with thanksgiving.” He goes on in the following two verses to ask for prayer that he might clearly and powerfully proclaim the gospel (see Colossians 4:3-4).

Notice the role of prayer in the ‘Whole Armor of God’ passage…

Ephesians 6:14-20 – “Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints, and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak.”

One more…

2^nd Corinthians 1:10-11 – Paul describes how the Lord had brought him through multiple trials up to that point. “He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and He will deliver us. On Him we have set our hope that He will deliver us again. You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many.”

We have barely even scratched the surface of what Paul says concerning prayer, much less Jesus, the other Apostles, or any of the Old Testament. Yet from what we have read above, it is pretty clear. Prayer is to be the heartbeat of the Church; it is the lifeblood of those identified as being in Christ. The gospel moves forward through the prayerful persistence of God’s elect. As men and women work to advance the good news to those who have never heard the sweet name of Jesus, they do so in the Spirit’s power, faithfully bathed in the prayers of the saints. 

Since taking on my new role as our “missions” pastor, I’ve had plenty of conversations with people about how they can get involved globally. We talk about going and sending, welcoming and mobilizing. “Well, are you prayerfully involved?” I ask. “Are you praying for the unreached? Are you asking for God to send people out from our midst, to be launched to the nations? Are you lifting up prayers for the missionaries currently ministering in some of the hardest to reach and most remote places on the planet? Are you praying for their endurance as they are weekly hit with various forms of persecution?” Many reply like I so often do… “No, I’m not.”

Prayer is more than a privilege. It is a responsibility, and a blessed one at that. May we remember our Savior’s great sacrifice - that through His cross, the veil was torn - meaning we have access to the Father so that we can approach His throne in full confidence. How amazing! Yet may we also be reminded of the many that wonder about completely unaware of this hope. Will we only enjoy this gift for ourselves, giving God our Christmas list of wants or will we obediently petition our Lord for the sake of others - for the sake of His glory among all peoples? Will we pray for this lost and dying world? Will we lift up our fellow brothers and sisters in the faith? Will we pray for our country? Our community? How about our friends, family, coworkers, and neighbors? Will we share in God’s heart for the nations? Will we ask Him to transform us inwardly that we might begin to think and serve more outwardly? I pray that we will, and that we’d do so today. 

Matt Fowler
Associate Pastor of Missions & Students
matt@nbchurch.info
@fattmowler

The Practical Pitfall of Pride

"...from there I will bring you down, declares the Lord."  - Obadiah v.4

Edom falsely assumed they were beyond the reach of attack. Strategically located in the mountains, these descendants of Esau believed that their fortification, built firmly into the side of the rock, would somehow keep them secure. Yet, the word given through the Lord's prophet was anything but an affirmation of their strong position: "From there God will bring you down."

We would do well to learn from the Edomites, for this is an example of pride's deception. They were guilty of looking at their surroundings for hope. They considered their circumstances, evaluated their situation, and wrongly landed on the conclusion that they were invulnerable. Just as Esau's elder status failed to assure him access to his father's inheritance and blessing, Edom's lofty dwelling could not guarantee its safety. Instead, these people became an illustration of God's judgment against wickedness.

If we're not careful, we will buy the lie as well. We will begin to think we are something; we'll take inventory of our good reputation, our moral uprightness, and all of our achievements. However, in doing so we'll forget the source of our blessing and begin to pat ourselves on the back. Woe to us for naively believing we've become invincible. Woe to us for misplacing our value and destiny in things that can so easily be taken away. Circumstances, situations, surroundings, status, positions, reputation, health, wealth, friendships, and the like, can all be changed, completely revoked, gone in an instant. But pride won't let us see this as true. 

Last Monday we discussed pride's sneaky, deceitful nature. Today we see how it tangibly sets it trap. When we find our purpose, worth, security, and fulfillment outside of Christ, we enter the dangerous hunting ground of the enemy. Here, our adversary feasts upon the puffed up. With our noses to the sky, we cannot see the trip line laid to prompt our fall. Having hearts content with worldly comforts, like Haman, we build the gallows for our own demise.

So then, if we are hopeful in this hour, why? Our initial response may reveal a great deal about the condition of our soul. Sure, we know the churchy, Sunday school answer; we know that "Jesus" is the only right thing to say. But if we're quickly ready to reply with other supporting arguments, we may want to meditate upon what our additional responses reflect. Do we feel safe in this life because of a surplus of personal savings or investments? Have our good deeds seemingly solidified our sanctification? Is the commendation of man more important than hearing, "Well done, my good and faithful servant"? 

Friend, our confidence must come from the crucified and risen Savior. Our hope must be in Christ alone, or it is no hope at all. Our church attendance has its value and our saintly service is to be applauded. Discipleship is honorable, for it comes at a steep cost; accordingly, our pursuit of holiness is a worthwhile endeavor that should be esteemed. Nevertheless, we must never forget that the gospel is the motivating factor that drives our desire for each. Yes, it is His grace that fuels all we do! We love because we were first loved by Him; we seek to be a blessing to others because we've been so richly blessed; and we obey the commands of Scripture because the Spirit of God has revealed to us that real life and joy are only found through intimacy with Him. 

Finally, let us consider this. If hope cannot be found in our spiritual storehouses, then how great is the insufficiency of our bank accounts and 401k's? We may feel so very high - so safe - so free, but if our certainty is misplaced in another, the Lord will bring us low. The great apostle made his one and only boast in Christ (Galatians 6:14, 1 Corinthians 2:2). We would be wise to follow his lead, lest Obadiah's prophecy concerning Edom, becomes our own.

Matt Fowler
Associate Pastor of Missions & Students
matt@nbchurch.info
@fattmowler