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

Proud to say I was not...

"The pride of your heart has deceived you..." Obadiah v.3a

I thought I knew pride. I assumed it was always loud and braggadocious. I figured it would surely draw attention to itself in a crowd and be easy to spot. I knew the kind of clothes it would wear or at least the kind of body it would reveal in the pictures where appropriate covering or accurately fitting garments were lacking. It would tell everyone of all that it had accomplished; there would surely be selfies to chronicle its achievements. Yeah, I was certain that I knew pride well enough to pick it out of a lineup next to "hard working," "well meaning," and "simply blessed." Despite its apparent beauty to some,  it was grotesque and unappealing to me - something I wouldn't be caught dead in. Fortunately, pride looked nothing like me, or so I thought.

There was one particular day when I went to the gym... Ok, are you finished laughing at that thought? I actually did go. And I was gonna get my lift on, I just needed some help getting started. I spent the first few to several minutes walking around, surveying all the different equipment. However, I was struggling to get going, for two main reasons. 1) I was not expecting so many people to be at the gym at 5am, but there they were. This was especially frustrating because they seemed to know what they were doing. Which leads me to my second major hindrance. 2) I didn't know what to do. I was there but had no plan to follow. I recognized certain pieces of equipment but some machines had me so confused that I didn't even know what part of the body they were designed to workout. 

So, I went to the treadmill (I at least knew what that was) and started jogging. The treadmill wasn't on the agenda that morning but I thought it would buy me some time. While jogging, I noticed some ab stations behind me. After a light run, I moved to that area. Given my "out-of-shapeness" I knew I wouldn't be spending much time there. Perhaps some of the Mr. Universe contestants would get sore and retire in the meantime, vacating some stations I knew how to use. But then there was another problem. I didn't think I could lift half of what they were doing. Maybe I could do a third of it?

No way around it, I was overly self-conscious and embarrassed. I didn't want to look silly in front of these sweaty strangers. I was too proud to ask for help. I didn't want anyone to know how truly out of shape and out of sorts I was. I may have walked in wearing workout gear, but as I looked in the mirror, I saw a very unflattering, unfit, heavy breathing, mouth shut in fear form of pride. I hadn't made one arrogant remark. I had not even considered taking a selfie to post on the Gram. Nevertheless, I stood there, barely sweating, yet completely drenched in pride.

I was so embarrassed that after having spent maybe 25 minutes doing the few things I described above, I pretended to be really engaged in a phone call and I left. True story: I acted like I had something drawing me away, then I signed-out and headed home. Frozen in insecurity and embarrassment, paralyzed by fear of man and how I might be perceived, I just played the part of "working out" and I quit.

Now as bad as this experience was, I have a greater concern than my physical health (obviously). What if this same kind of pride carries into my spiritual life? What if this kind of embarrassment and fear of being known or found out were to keep me from confronting my real spiritual state of being? What if I failed to genuinely share out of concern for how I might be perceived? Now, if it is possible to be in the gym, wearing all the right gear, with access to the equipment, glistening sweat on the brow, and yet not truly moving forward to better health and strength, would it not also be possible to do the same thing in matters of faith. Could we go to church, learn the songs and Christianese phrases, maybe even meet with a small group in someone's home, and still be miles from a real, genuinely deep and abiding relationship with Christ and His Church? I'm afraid we both know the answer to that. 

The pride of the heart is deceptive. It's hard to see. You need the penetrating, transformational power of the Word to search the soul. You need the loving rebuke of a fellow brother or sister. Left alone, it will likely go unnoticed until we fall. This is precisely why God hates pride and why we are called to fight against it. It is tricky, and a good liar to boot. While I was trying to avoid becoming the guy that would tell everyone about his new lifting max or fastest running time or number of LB's dropped, I became the scrawny guy in the back that was in just as much trouble. In fact, I'm learning that my self-loathing is a form of pride as well. When I depreciate my value to the extent that I feel worthless, then I'm making a claim against God, as if I know more about myself than He, like I'm too much for even God to fix. That's a lie and pride disguised as poor, pitiful me. 

While pride may be displayed in some of the ways I've depicted, it doesn't mean that contentment and accomplishment are wrong. And just because we resist the temptation to tell each other about how good we are at something, doesn't mean our hearts are clean. If we're thinking about how great we are, we're still puffed up (Matthew 5:21-22, 27-28). See, its not always seen by man, nor is it dressed the same with each individual. Sometimes it's a well-built dude filling out a pair of mandex like a pro wrestler, but it can also be the cowering wimp in the shadows. The point is that it is there, ready to take us down. 

So what are we to do? For starters, let's internalize the following inquiries. When does pride raise its ugly head in your heart? When are you most susceptible to a deceptive attack? How does the Gospel speak to the issue? Are you positioned before the truth of Scripture? Do you hear Christ exalted weekly? Have you anyone to process through what you're being challenged with? Is there a community to help you apply it to your life?

Maybe you're like I was in the gym. You want improvement and growth, but you don't have the foggiest idea where to start. Perhaps you sense your isolation and you long for connection, but you require help with understanding the process. Wherever you are, just be real about your need. Don't pretend to be okay when you're not. There is grace available; more grace is to be found. God opposes the proud but He gives grace to the humble (James 4:5-6). 

Father, help us avoid pride's deception. Allow us to run in the presence of Your people, in the liberty of your grace, for the increase of our joy and the glory of Your Name. Amen

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