Lori Stanley Roeleveld's Blog, page 13

Three Ways Jesus Handled Posers, Fakes, and Hypocrites

Most of us operate under the delusion that posers, fakers, and hypocrites are easy to spot.

The truth is that some are, others aren’t. According to 1 Timothy 5:24, “The sins of some people are conspicuous, going before them to judgment, but the sins of others appear later.” We’ve all been fooled by someone we admired, followed, or loved.

This even holds true for the hypocrite hiding in our own mirror.

We can become so convinced of our own righteousness, so accustomed to operating in a way that looks like faith, that we’re caught off guard when we catch a glimpse of fakery or hypocrisy behind our own masks.

It can be so frightening that, rather than deal with it, we simply resecure our cover and vow to be more cautious in front of others.

This is what America is experiencing in the mirror of 2020.

The year prior, we imagined we’d made more progress in some areas or were more unified than it turns out that we are. In 2019, even the American church could convince itself that more of us had an understanding of how to apply God’s Word to complex situations. Sort of. Not now.

As the trials of this year pressed in on us, cracks and chasms appeared in our understanding of ourselves which isn’t all bad news. My college psychology professor repeatedly stated that “the truth is always our friend.” It’s not always comfortable or easy to take or palatable, but it’s always the safest place to stand in a storm.

Some of us have been faking our love for others – in ways that even fool us – because that love hasn’t been truly tested against self-love. Some have faked faith altogether while some have made a habit of faking some of the time, assuming the breaches in their faith walls were nothing to worry about.

There are full-blown hypocrites among us, even in our leadership, but there are also part-time hypocrites. People in process toward becoming all that Christ calls us to be who fall back on old habits when the going gets tough.

How does Jesus react to this?

Are we right to rush to reapply our masks and quickly tuck in whatever messiness has slipped out in the process of navigating 2020 to avoid disappointing God?

Read the gospel of Luke and watch Jesus interact with the Pharisees and religious rulers of the day. It is here we see exactly how Jesus handles fakers, hypocrites, and posers.

Jesus walked among us during times much like our own.

Those who followed God and who awaited the Messiah were a mixed bag. Some were sincere, ready to repent, and open-eyed about the coming kingdom. Others trusted in their own righteousness and relied on checklists and a religious system for salvation.

The church in that day had its divisions within and its enemies from outside. There was cultural pressure to compromise and to make idols of political leaders. There was temptation to bank earthly power in the event that heaven failed to come through.

Jesus was completely non-plussed by any aspect of what He found in humanity. He handled posers, hypocrites, and fakers in three ways.

First, and most important, He died for them.

That’s right. Jesus died to save posers, fakers, and hypocrites just as He died to save outcasts, prostitutes, and tax collectors.

From the cross, having suffered at their hands, He asked His Father to forgive them – knowing it was their plotting and deception that orchestrated the human actions leading to His death.

Every parable He told on the way to Jerusalem was a plea to those about to miss out to come into the banquet He was throwing for all the sinners who came home. He is the generous father, loving lavishly, in the parable of the prodigal, longing for the elder brother to join His feast.

Jesus loves posers, fakers, and hypocrites. He doesn’t want us to perish for eternity. But He knows we won’t make it without Him.

So, He wants us to rip off our masks, face the truth in the mirror of His Word, and run home where He can help us handle and repair reality.

We must all be cautious about condemning, hating, or despising those who are faking it with the world. Yes, of course, it’s as wrong as sex trafficking, violence, and drug addiction. But the people engaging in the mask-wearing are created in God’s image, wholly-loved, and His desire is for them to come to salvation.

Second, Jesus doesn’t play the same games.

Jesus operates from a completely different matrix than every other leader or person of power or poser or faker. There is nothing false in Jesus. No deception. No darkness. No mask.

He didn’t run for Messiah. He doesn’t need polls to know what lurks in our hearts. And His intelligence surpasses all humanity’s put together so we can’t trick Him or fool Him into our traps.

They tried. From the start of His ministry, they plotted and hunted and queried and conspired. But only in the fullness of God’s time did Jesus lay down His life.

We can have the mind of Christ when dealing with hypocrites. We don’t win by engaging in their games. We don’t act as they did by whispering and back-door conspiracies. We call out their nonsense. Speak the truth of God’s Word. And remember the truth is our friend even if it leads to our death.

Third, Jesus didn’t mince words.

Jesus wasn’t always nice.

We know that if we have a loved one about to walk a dangerous, deadly path like taking heroine or engaging in prostitution or considering suicide we don’t mince words in trying to persuade them to make a better choice.

Our love and the urgency of their situation compels us to speak directly, frankly, and in ways that aren’t always polite.

There is a time to call people out. To speak straight truth. To reference hell and judgment. It’s usually when dealing with hypocrites, posers, and fakes.

But for the words to have effect, they must come from the same heart of love that Jesus had for the Jewish people. We must be willing to die for them and not imagine we’ll rejoice if they remain hiding behind their deception and lies.

Let’s not pretend that most of us don’t struggle on some level with presenting one face to the world while living another privately. It’s not right. We must draw near to Christ and so draw closer to living truth every moment of every day.

There is no room for deception and lies in the kingdom of God. We must address it. Speak truth to it. Not play games for even a moment. Sometimes we have to not be nice.

But we must always remember we’re dealing with people for whom Jesus laid down His love. People He loves. Who bear His image.

And long, not for their destruction and downfall, but for their transformation in Christ.

Three ways Jesus handled posers, fakes, and hypocrites. https://t.co/9Wx4IG0eyW #amwriting #Jesus

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) November 18, 2020

Become a patron of this blog.

The post Three Ways Jesus Handled Posers, Fakes, and Hypocrites first appeared on Lori Stanley Roeleveld . . . Disturber of Hobbits.

Worship of Jesus isn’t a service we attend, it’s a position we take in the universe.

The Body of Christ suffers in these times.

The suffering isn’t fatal. We aren’t at risk of irreparable harm, because we belong to Jesus. Because of Him, the suffering will be used for our good and for His glory.

Still, we are besieged from without and within. Division, attack, disbelief, falling away, conflict, prohibitions from gathering, fear of gathering, and disagreement about gathering all tear at the church on a cellular level.

And yet, we will not fear, for God is with us. He is the Head of this body and He has seen times just like this.

Our call is not to fear, nor to sort wheat from tares. Our call is to worship. Whether we gather within sanctuaries or virtually, He works in our midst and the wise trust this.

When the people of God worship, there is always more at work than we can see. Much more. When we focus only on the seen – the size or situation of our service, the eloquence of the preacher, the absence loved ones, or the performance of the musicians – we miss the greater gathering.

Did you think you were just going to church? That’s a pale title for our rich and powerful convocation. Church is an assembly of kingdom warriors, of poets and priests, of God-explorers, of seed-sowers and harvesters, of kingdom pioneers staking outposts of glory, of the royal family seeking facetime with their father-king.

Kingdom warriors have spent the week in battle – some from behind closed doors, others behind prison walls, sitting with shattered families, or holding vigil hospital bedside, in shelters, on the streets, in the schools, on the mission field, or in their own backyard.

Fighting for the lost and broken, doing the work of reconciliation and mediation, sweating out the struggle to stay married, stay faithful, stay clean and sober, stay patient with small children, stay believing, stay sane.

We warriors drag our battered souls into worship parched for the Living Water, famished for the meat of a solid Word from Christ, in need of fortification, strengthening, encouragement, and a repair of our armor. This is what we long to find as we stagger in from the frontlines.

Poets and priests arrive yearning for the beauty of the kingdom lifted high. We come craving the stained glass, the banners and candles, the harmonious melodious strains, a taste of the bread, a sip of the wine, an escape into the reality of the mystery and holiness of the Most, High God.

We poets and priests long for others to share in the same wonder we’ve contemplated in the week apart. We long to say Amen with the Body whole. Our souls desire to hear our part in the great chorus and know the music of the spheres.

The God-explorers spent the week reading His Word and putting it into practice. We’ve been living what it means to love their neighbor, show hospitality, advocate for justice, be slow to anger, pray for those who persecute, and give sacrificially with varying levels of success.

We want to hear what other explorers have tried. We want guidance, correction, and encouragement. We want to share the joy of what went well and celebrate the experience of knowing there is still more to discover even when the seekers have found the Living God.

The seed-sowers and harvesters, like hard-working farmers, are hoping for a place of contemplation, of Sabbath rest, of refreshment like water from a deep spring-fed well. We want to know if others have been watching the skies and seeing the same signs. We want to hear what others are doing to tend and protect the tender seedlings peeking through the soil or what methods are most effective for pruning an unruly branch. We are not showy in our worship, but we are faithful and watchful week after week after patient, enduring week.

The kingdom pioneers staking outposts for glory arrive for worship with our lungs full of oxygen from beyond the veil. We need the gathering, the energy of assembly, the glory songs, and the revelation of God’s Word proclaimed.

We need prayers for our efforts on behalf of the kingdom and confirmation of new territory we’ve noticed where God’s Kingdom needs to come. We need the crowd because we have God’s heart for the crowd to grow and we inventory who is still missing. We need the touch-base with the seed-sowers and harvesters, so our feet remain planted on the earth as we reach holy hands to the sky. And the crowd needs us because without our vision, they perish.

And all of us, royal-family, children of the High King, who have spent the week knocking our crowns askew, our robes dusty from treading a common path, and our manners affected by our old nature and pressure from those raised outside the kingdom walls, need our memories revived. 

We need to hear the story of our adoption through Christ into the family of the High King. We need the reminder of how a royal child conducts him or herself even when away from the family. We need to wash our hands and feet in the basin of the servant Christ and remember who we are. We need a refresher of the hope of home.

A renewal of the truth of what awaits us when Jesus returns, we gather at the royal table, and step into the realization of our restored glory, of the day when our story is no longer by faith alone but by everlasting sight. We need a weekly family reunion and a reminder of our family name.

We don’t have to wait for leaders to create this kind of worship or for our fellow worshipers to “get it,” or for government to permit it to occur. This worship doesn’t come in a workshop or a weekend or a movement. This worship cannot be contained within walls nor can it be thwarted by forced isolation. This worship is the reality of what is occurring, and we just need for God to open our eyes to it now.

Worship of Jesus isn’t a service we attend, it’s a position we take in the universe. The act of worship is a fist raised against the brutal foul forces at work in this world. It’s a flare sent up from the outpost. It’s a campfire set in the wilderness. It’s a well in the desert. It’s a family reunion. It’s a vision summit. It’s the bread and the wine and the blood and the risen Christ, our Head, infusing His Spirit throughout the entire body making what has been dispersed over the days one. 

So, cry out, Open our eyes, Lord. Let us see this gathering as You see it. Let us know the power of our own corporate devotion in Your presence. Let us see the army that surrounds us when “two or three are gathered.” (Mt 18:20)

We remember now. We are not church-goers or pew-warmers. We are not victims of a virus or of politicians or of beleaguered pastors. We are kingdom warriors, poets, priests, God-explorers, seed-sowers, harvesters, pioneers in outposts of glory, and children of the most, High King. And this is as true on an ordinary worship day as it was on the day of Resurrection.

With enlightened hearts, we will be fearless because we gather – whether in person or in spirit – as one in Christ.

Worship at church – worship at home – what matters is knowing what we’re doing is real. https://t.co/07HvR7ja3H #pandemic #Jesus

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) November 14, 2020

Become a patron.

The post Worship of Jesus isn’t a service we attend, it’s a position we take in the universe. first appeared on Lori Stanley Roeleveld . . . Disturber of Hobbits.

When Death and the Devil Appear to Win the Day (What We Do to Hold On)

*For happy news and a baby picture, scroll to the end of this post.

None of us likes to lose – neither to opponents nor to hardship nor to death.

There’s no glory in failure, in the dissolution of dreams, in defeat.

And while we put on brave faces for the world or for the general community, behind close doors, disappointments, setbacks, and losses send us to our rooms to pull the covers over our heads and wonder why we even tried.

And yet, the Bible is full of martyrs, losers, and people of God who failed their way to their purpose.

In fact, many of their stories wouldn’t likely have been told if it were up to human writers. God inspired Biblical authors to include the warts and warps and wayward paths of every person He chose to use.

I believe He did that for us.

You see, God is not as in love with success as we are. He’s not looking for people who know how to succeed, to never make a mistake, to cheat death. What God values is faithfulness, perseverance, and eyes focused on Jesus at every turn.

I lose sight of that in my own life. I’m easily disheartened. When roadblocks appear or paths I’ve taken don’t pan out, I despair. There’s a lot of quit in me. And I seek reward too early in the process.

One of my grandsons has fallen behind in his schoolwork and has recently made efforts, under duress, at catching up. When he was instructed to work on his assignments rather than watch the family movie, he opined, “I’ve been working so hard and you haven’t rewarded me for a long time!”

Of course, the adults responded properly to his drama, but it reminded me of, well, me. So often his words appear in my prayers and God used my grandson’s immaturity to bring my own heart back online.

My grandson has yet to appreciate that learning and studying is its own reward. His youth demands immediate reward and chafes against delayed gratification. To my shame, I am wont to forget that following Jesus is its own reward and my portion in life is Him – setbacks bring me home to that life-giving truth.

Jesus chides His disciples in Luke 17:7-10 by comparing them to a person who has servants. Does the owner of the home, at days’ end, invite the servants to sit and eat? No, they must complete their responsibilities first, and even then, they’ve only done what was their duty.

Of course, this conversation happens on their way to Jerusalem. Jesus has done many amazing works, taught the truth to great crowds, and demonstrated in many ways that He is the Messiah. And yet, the rest of His work lay further down the road on a wooden cross that wouldn’t hint even a little of success. His reward rested on the other side of suffering and death. He wouldn’t look like much of a savior hanging on a tree, but that wouldn’t change the truth.

While our country has been embroiled (continues to be embroiled) in the presidential race, behind closed doors, hundreds of scientists have been failing their way to success.

In the search for a cure for this virus, they set out on a path they knew would reap them absolutely no glory until the task was complete. There’s no reward for the dozens, maybe hundreds, of trials that fail but that provide one small clue closer to the cure.

And yet we rely on them to refuse to let failure deter them from their work. We count on them not quitting at the hundredth failed trial. Some of our lives may depend on them viewing no wrong turn as a waste but instead, just a part of the work they’re called to do to fulfill their purpose. We don’t even want them to sleep until their work is done.

As Christians, this is the mindset we need.

God wastes nothing. Not a moment of our lives will be for naught if we keep our eyes on Jesus. He promises to fulfill His purpose for us, to complete His work in us, and God keeps His promises.

There will be failures. Losses. Broken dreams. Wrong turns. Wayward paths.

It’s heartbreaking when death and the devil appear to win the day. But when that happens, we must hold on. We must remember that God is not done. We must declare that the final word belongs to Him who IS the Word.

We mustn’t seek reward too early. Satan whispers into our losses, into our low times, that we are fools. He taunts us to wonder where our God is now. He tempts us to lose heart and he doesn’t mind hitting us when we’re down.

God’s Word is our weapon, and He is our fortress and strength. What appears to be death and defeat on this side of glory may be the very path God has chosen to resurrect His purpose for His people.

This post isn’t for people processing an election or the death of a beloved celebrity, it’s for those of us who are questioning the purpose and path of our own lives on any given day.

We live in a world battered and weary from the results of the fall, but the Kingdom of God is in our midst. We must dwell in the grace provided by Christ through suffering and death. We must embed in the hope His resurrection provides us now until He comes. Not only for our sakes, but for the next generation.

And, until our work is done, we must not give up.

(Like many of you, I am saddened at the loss of Alex Trebek, who brought joy to so many of our lives for decades. My prayers are also with Tim Challies and his family as they mourn the sudden death of their 20-year-old son. And I continue to pray for our country. Allow me, however, to share the joy of our newest grandson born 11/5/2020 – Samuel Chief Bennett Kreyssig. (Samuel for his father’s maternal grandfather, Chief in honor of my father who was a fire chief for over 51 years, Bennett because they like it and it’s Dutch tradition to have two middle names.) All are well and we are in love. Praise God who brings joy in the midst of loss and conflict.

If you would like to support this website/blog through the hardship of the pandemic by becoming a patron, click HERE for more information.

When Death and the Devil Appear to Win (What we do to hold on) https://t.co/Vcwcx2GUQP #Jesus #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) November 9, 2020

The post When Death and the Devil Appear to Win the Day (What We Do to Hold On) first appeared on Lori Stanley Roeleveld . . . Disturber of Hobbits.

Weary of Words, But Full of Hope Facing Tuesday

Our ears are full of words.

Opinions, prophecies, warnings, and editorials deluge us as if, in 2020, all the water we’ve thirsted to receive has been woven into words that neither replenish our wells nor quench our thirst for truth.

And I know I’ve tarried to write a post but that is why. We’re word heavy. Our souls are stooped beneath the burden of the modern prophets and their utterings. I dare not add to the noise.

All these words have been aimed at this week like a siege of flaming arrows. Our country is on fire and we grope our way through the smoke. Our throats ache and our voices croak seeking relief that we know may not arrive on Tuesday.

When we emerge from this election, no matter who sits in that office, we must forge on with the work of the Body of Christ. No matter who wins, we know our times are in God’s hands and so, in this pause before someone must concede, I wonder if we can take something from this that will draw us nearer to God.

Not a warning. Not a prophecy. Not a prediction nor a panacea. Just a drop of cool truth to moisten our hearts and remind us there is a source of living water.

I’ve been reacquainting myself with Jesus by re-reading the gospel of Luke and I’m struck by God’s zealous desire to engage our hearts in this relationship with Him. He seeks more than duty-bound obedience, more than simple attendance, more than words.

That’s something I truly understand after this election season. I’m keenly aware that every politician, even the ones I believe in, often spoke words they imagined I wanted to hear simply to gain my vote.  They have teams of advisors, consultants, pollsters, and speech writers all dedicated to crafting the message I want to hear.

Most of it isn’t real. Even from the honest ones. Much of it is well-intended. Some of it is not.

But what’s transparently true is that most politicians draw near to me with their mouths and honor me with their lips, but their hearts don’t even know me – never mind care to be with me. And the false promises and praise are more distasteful than those who simply truthfully tell me they operate from a different worldview than I do.

And what I hear from Jesus as He pleads with the Pharisees through parables even children could understand, is that He desires, not our lip service, but our hearts.

From Genesis to Revelation and every book in between, God, our Father and Creator, calls to us and asks for everything – our hearts, minds, souls, and strengths. He won’t settle for empty words, for worship we phone in, for foot-dragging obedience, for an appearance of faith, or for half-hearted discipleship.

He wants us. And He died to make it possible for us to draw near to Him, so we dare not take that for granted.

And having dragged our souls through this season of pandemic and protests and polemics and politicians, now limping into a new chapter, whatever it may be, we can understand the weariness of God’s heart at hearing words designed to win His vote spoken by people whose hearts are devoted to their own gain.

Hear Him describe this in Isaiah 29 and ask yourself, don’t I know Him just a little better now?

We have every hope because of Christ that we can offer our whole hearts to God. And as we do, our words and actions align rightly with Jesus so that all we have to offer Him, and others, flows from a cleansed heart guarded by the breastplate of His righteousness.

When we speak, others can trust what we say.

When we serve, we serve from a heart of love, not for selfish gain.

When we worship, it flows from within and isn’t about a performance but about the response of a soul who sees her God, His character, and His love and humbly receives all He is and offers back all she has.

Whatever comes beyond Tuesday, He has given us everything we need for life and godliness in Jesus Christ.

Not to win His vote for our prayers but simply in response to the love He offers freely, can’t we draw near to Him with our whole hearts?

Then, we will face this next chapter not with hearts of stone but with hearts of flesh, cleansed in the Living Water and burning within us with the eternal fire of His Holy Spirit.

Father God, I am deeply grateful that You see me and desire a real relationship with me. I’m so glad You won’t settle for hearing me say words You want to hear or just showing up out of duty or offering You words designed to delight You that aren’t backed up by my inner being. I’ve seen enough of that during this election – aimed at me – and so I understand why You find it so distasteful. Thank you that because of Jesus, I have hope of transformation. Remove my heart of stone and give me a heart of flesh, a heart that beats for You alone, a heart that flows with the blood of Jesus, a heart burning for You alone. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Weary of Words, but Full of Hope Facing Tuesday https://t.co/mPwqWe4dBI #Election2020 #Jesus

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) November 2, 2020

**I’ve mailed out the first Patrons Only newsletter over the weekend. If you haven’t received yours (and you’re a Patron), check your spam folder. If it’s not there, email me at lorisroel@gmail.com. If you choose to become a Patron in November, I’ll send you a copy of this most recent newsletter.

The post Weary of Words, But Full of Hope Facing Tuesday first appeared on Lori Stanley Roeleveld . . . Disturber of Hobbits.

This One Brief Life We Have to Offer – Some Briefer Still

So, I’m thinking about my brother, John the Baptist – the fire burst of his young life and the tragic waste of his death at the order of a narcissist and his self-indulgent sister-in-law bedmate.

And I’m listening to a speech by my brother Chadwick – the whirlwind power of his young life and the tragic waste of his death to a disease that entered this world when my sister Eve and my brother Adam made the choice for us all to go our own way and not God’s. Humanity and the world still reeling from our exile from the garden and the burden of weights we were not designed to bear.

But I cannot weep for their too early exits without gasping in awe at the power and impact their prophetic presence made in our midst,

that despite our ancestor’s expulsion from Eden, God has made a way and we can follow this road through Jesus to a life that is a flare, a bonfire, a tower of flame whirling to light the way for every person who wonders if this one life is enough –

Enough to make an impact, to be felt, to be seen, to be heard, to represent the city – the one to which we look, the one that informs our view and gives our eyes that far-off hope, that fuels us to press on despite every weapon forged against that will not stand – but we will – oh, by His Name, we will stand.

For John and Chadwick, though their lives were brief, they testify, they testify to a truth so potent just a blood drop is enough to disperse an oil-slick of evil in our times.

And they, like my sister, Betsie ten Boom, who gave her life to live like Christ in the face of the Nazi killing machine but whose voice rings out from those camps, through her sister, who when she struggled in Ravensbruck drew strength from Betsie’s faith that “there is no pit so deep, that He is not deeper still”

and we believe her words because the pit of those days was like the pits of hell. They testify through their lives and their voices echo on, spurring us, still, to yield

To yield not to the distractions, discouragements, disasters, or detractors of our day, but yield, instead, to be the fuel for our God who is a consuming fire and not to worry about the length of our light or the size of our flame because who knows if a person lost in the dark requires a floodlight or simply a matchstick’s flare – as long as we are that flame in their darkness and they find their way to Him, then the darkness is reminded that it is nothing – nothing, we testify – against even the briefest flicker of Light. And some of us must be that brief flame.

And in those moments when I am tempted to feel my smallness, when I bemoan the wasted hours, when I stand clutching my tiny offering of breath and talent and time and love against my chest while others deem it nothing compared to others that glitter like all the fineness the world can offer in our day,

then I will set my eyes above and see them standing on the wall of that city on the hill, with outstretched arms and shining eyes – Betsie, Chadwick, John – and so many more, beseeching me to dare to strike the flint with trembling hands and coax the kindle of my life to catch the fire that is the life of Christ within me

and who can deny the infinite power of even a fraction of our God?

And I will not stop to judge the size or the length of the light that my life casts but only rejoice that it is His light – the light of Him who spoke the world into being who shone in the universe before there was a sun or moon or stars and who set limits on the darkness,

And I will give myself over to Him, testifying with every breath, until I join them in that place that needs no light because it shines with the glory of God and they will say to me then,

“See, it did not matter how brief a time or how small our reach, but just that we were His and that eternity began in our souls on the day we knelt at His cross and received His grace and followed with all the strength and life we had to give. We burned so bright the darkness could end our lives but not the brilliant tracer of our testimony that continues to guide others in the Way.”

There is so much more ahead that we cannot see – but they have lit the way with the torchlight of their testimonies and all we have to do is continue to walk in the way and we, too, great or small, will shine like stars in the universe.

Is your life too short? Your flame shining for too short a time? Here's the only thing that matters. https://t.co/GHRUeI0IfS #Jesus #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) October 23, 2020

Is your heart fading? Do you wonder if you’ll ever be enough? Are your schedule and your to-do list out of sorts? Consider scheduling an appointment for Heart Rehab coaching – 4-6 sessions to find your WHY and revive your soul. This coaching course is available at the cost of whatever love offering you can provide – and if that’s zero, that’s okay, too. Email me at lorisroel@gmail.com. Take heart!

The post This One Brief Life We Have to Offer - Some Briefer Still first appeared on Lori Stanley Roeleveld . . . Disturber of Hobbits.

Does This Year Make Me Look Self-Righteous?

Like so many of you, my heart hurts.

I’m weary from grief. I’m worn out with change. My heart weeps for everyone facing prolonged separations from dear ones or who buried family without the comfort of a funeral. And for all who celebrated major life passages with modified or delayed celebrations. The thought of a second wave makes me numb.

Like you, I’m tired of the fighting. I’m so sick of people hating and hurting one another because of skin color. Sick at heart about corruption in our police forces that smears and detracts from the work of honest, faithful law enforcement officers. Sick at the rise of extremist groups on both ends of political extremes which are really just different manifestations of hate. Sick of being pre-judged by my skin color, geography, age, or the outlines of my faith.

And like many of you, I’m facing the voting booth on my knees. Throwing my entire faith on our God and choosing according to the policies and philosophy I believe promote the best future for the next generation. I’ve stopped listening to rhetoric and promises, and have, instead, focused my attention on actions, accomplishments, and records. Except for the God part, I could be wrong, but I will make a choice and vote.

Above all else, I sorrow and lament for the family of God and the public displays of condemnation and self-righteousness we’re demonstrating for (and ultimately against) one another. But, even here, I hang my head with my own confessions of wrongdoing.

To be fair, this year has demonstrated that the church hasn’t cornered the market on self-righteousness. It appears to have become a hallmark of our culture – even for those who deny God on every level.

This is how Wikipedia defines self-righteousness:

“Self-righteousness, also called sanctimoniousness, sententiousness and holier-than-thou attitudes is a feeling or display of (usually smug) moral superiority derived from a sense that one’s beliefs, actions, or affiliations are of greater virtue than those of the average person. Self-righteous individuals are often intolerant of the opinions and behaviors of others.”

I don’t know about you, but that sounds like all of America to me right now. And in case you think I’m pointing the finger, I can assure you that when I face the mirror of scripture, I see the reflection of a self-righteous person more often than I’d like you to ever know. (Though, I’m savvy enough at my age not to let it slip out in public very often, I fight a constant battle with my inner-Pharisee.)

I believe it’s possible to walk through this world, to rightly see all that’s wrong, to speak God’s truth, and to represent Him well without resorting to sanctimony or self-righteous condemnations.

 I believe this because I’ve seen it lived out in the person of Jesus Christ.

Have you ever worked to create something or bring order to a place – only to have it destroyed or undone by others? (If you have children, you must answer yes.) Do you remember the hurt and anger you felt?

Imagine Jesus, through whom everything that has been made was made.

Imagine Jesus, through whom we were created as the crown of creation designed to worship, work, and be in relationship with our Father.

Imagine Jesus, living among the mess we’ve made of all that was created through Him, seeing humanity addicted to sin and self, unwilling to emerge from this addiction to realize the full potential of our own glorious creation. And reacting, not with rage or condemnation, but by laying down His life for us.

We don’t have to imagine it because we can read it in the gospels. He walked among us, embodying righteousness but demonstrating humility, sacrificial love, unrelenting mercy, spoken truth, and the hope of redemption.

Paul described it this way in his letter to the Philippians 2:3-8 “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.  Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”

Yes, public representatives of Jesus who make public declarations should be confronted publicly if their words or actions aren’t representative of Jesus (such as Paul did when confronting Peter.)

Yes, hypocrisy must be called out as Jesus did with the Pharisees, lawyers, and scribes of Israel.

But Jesus did all things from a foundation of humility, deep study of the Word of God, and hours of daily prayer alone with His Father. Before you post your next condemning status update or tweet, weigh your spiritual foundation against His daily spiritual practices.

The world has never needed to see Christians walking in humility more than this generation does now.

If we care at all about those whom Jesus loves. If we care at all about representing what it means to be brothers and sisters in Christ. If we care at all about the legacy that we leave the next generation.

If we care at all about representing Jesus in the fullness of His person, we will repent of our arrogance and self-righteousness. We will guard our hearts with the breastplate of His righteousness.

And our public discourse will be marked by loving truth delivered humbly, mercifully, unapologetically, and in service to others above ourselves.

Does this year make me look self-righteous? Let us be careful that as Christians we shape our times and not the other way around.

Does this year make me look self-righteous? Christians should shape our times, not the other way around. https://t.co/m74cBedcwo #amwriting #Election2020

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) October 17, 2020

Thank you to all who have joined the team of patrons supporting this blog and my writing ministry. I’m working now on our first patrons-only newsletter! There’s still room if the Lord leads you to offer support! Just click HERE.

Are you soul-weary from our times? Would you benefit from my four-six session individual coaching on “Heart Rehab”? Schedule a free 30-minute “do we fit?” appointment and we’ll discuss how this simple but profound coaching process could restore your heart and renovate your energy for life. There is no set fee for this course – it’s available for an “as you can afford” donation. Check out the details HERE. Or sign up for an appointment here: https://www.facebook.com/takeheartcoaching/

 

The post Does This Year Make Me Look Self-Righteous? first appeared on Lori Stanley Roeleveld . . . Disturber of Hobbits.

You and I Are in Danger

You and I are in danger. We are at risk of losing heart.

I know this the same way I know of God’s love for me – “for the Bible tells me so.”

God warns us in Proverbs 4:23 “Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.” If we must “keep” our hearts, we are, therefore, at risk of losing them.

I have also lived this danger. I nearly lost heart. Even though I know the warning. Even though I love the Lord with all my heart. Even though I’ve followed Him since I was a child. Even though I pray, study my Bible, worship, fellowship, give, serve. Even still . . .

It began months ago with a loss. Then an unexpected family trauma. The loss I saw coming. The trauma came out of left field. And I was shaken.

I wept. Grieved. Lamented.

But I also kept on. Kept on working, writing, worshiping – doing all the things. And I was holding on. But I wasn’t the same. There was something missing.

Little did I know, it was my heart.

Then 2020 took its left turn. I don’t have to tell you. I was like a boxer struggling up off the mat just before the count of ten only to be sucker-punched by the referee.

So, this new person I’d become through the loss and the grief and the trauma and the trying and the working and the worshiping and the writing and all the keeping on, tried to also manage a pandemic –

and riots

and political upheaval

and extreme job stress

and . . . well, you get it.

I floundered. Like a person drowning, I flailed about – the way a Christian flails – praying, praising, fasting, seeking counsel, doubling down on devotions, calling friends, eating, setting my eyes on eternity, and holding on. But it seemed all I accomplished was to wear myself out.

So, I got judgy. Like, what’s wrong with me? Where’s my faith? Where’s my hope? Wait – where’s my heart?

I beat myself up like a misguided medieval monk, to no avail. And my striving combined with my failure to successfully perform self-CPR tempted me to hopelessness and despair.

Finally, I reached the end of myself. Not always a bad thing.

God sent me a gift. A silent retreat in the mountains. Technology free. No talk. No distractions.

It was daunting. What does a woman of words do without them for 48 hours? How does a woman longing for connection do unplugged? No laptop. No Kindle. No cell phone. Just me, the mountains, my Bible, a pen, and a legal pad.

Fall arrived in all its glory the moment I turned up the retreat center drive. A feast for the eyes. Like the trees were on fire against the ever-steady mountains, mist-rising off them at sunrise each day.

The silence began. It wasn’t terrible. And for the first half of the retreat – there was a lot of nothing in my mind. No deep insights. No heavy conversations with God. No lightning bolts.

Just me walking without words among the trees staring at the water and the sky – praising God in my soul for His eye for beauty and His lavish creativity.

I napped. I read my Bible. I leaned into God. And waited.

If I’m honest, I was waiting for a scolding. For some deep, wracking conviction of a sin so great that perhaps I alone was responsible for the pandemic and if I just repented, my world would be set right. How’s that for ego and twisted theology? That’s what trauma, my personality, and living in a fallen world can do.

Instead, I received His love, His grace, and the warmth of remembering I belong to Him. I released a lot of pain. Just let it fall to the forest floor where I assume it’s now decomposing with the leaves. And I let myself be present – reading His Word and listening for His voice.

I was reading in Isaiah 59 when I stumbled across the breastplate of righteousness. Hadn’t expected to find it there – more familiar with its mention in Ephesians 6.

But, there it was in a passage about how there was no justice and there was no one righteous. Isn’t that the times in which we live now – full of headlines that batter our hearts and erode our faith like so many ocean waves against the rocks? And in a world gone wrong, we sense our own sin and limitations, so our hearts grow faint.

But, God. God saw we couldn’t save ourselves and so He sent His son – equipped with the breastplate of righteousness and the helmet of salvation. And what does this breastplate protect if not the heart?

So He kindly led me to the piece that I was missing – it was armor I’d left sitting at my feet. So focused on my own sin, I’d neglected to appreciate His remedy – Jesus on the cross, paying the price for me, and providing me, through grace, a perfect righteousness.

To trust in His righteousness and to wear it like a breastplate of armor is the prescription for guarding and keeping my heart. And yours.

Has the cross become an image in the rearview mirror of your life instead of place you visit daily to remember His provision for our redemption? Has the empty tomb become a place you only consider at Easter instead of a daily station where you remember His power over Satan and death? Have you been weighing your own righteousness or the righteousness of His people and beginning to lose heart?

Pick up that breastplate at your feet. Stop talking. Turn off all the noise. Remember Jesus. Let Him revive your heart.

(If you’re interested in a silent retreat, there are two more opportunities this fall at Singing Hills in NH. They’re called “God Speaks Retreat.“)

It’s not too late to become a patron of this blog and be included in the patron-only newsletter and video workshops coming up. Just click here.

You and I are in danger. But there is a remedy. https://t.co/XdJ4hwaaO0 #amwriting #Jesus

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) October 7, 2020

The post You and I Are in Danger first appeared on Lori Stanley Roeleveld . . . Disturber of Hobbits.

A Viral Unbelief – The Silence of Zechariah

Why silence Zechariah?

Perhaps it was a kindness, an act of mercy.

I write for those of us who have entered a relationship with Jesus – many of us decades ago. So, it may seem odd that I want to focus a post on the problem of unbelief.

But, this is what I know – that while our baptisms are far in our rearview mirrors, we can still feel as though we’re a long way from home!

Unbelief is usually a problem we classify as a struggle for people who reject Jesus, but it can also creep into the lives of Christians.

Sometimes it enters through the door of sudden tragedy or unanswered prayer. It can be a by-product of a series of hardships or setbacks. Other times, it happens when an important Christian role model disappoints us. Or, perhaps we’ve let down our guard due to inattention or in the weariness of relentless battle and Satan has seized an opportunity.

When we’ve followed Jesus a long time, it’s easy to keep looking as if belief hasn’t taken a hit.

We show up at worship and at our ministry. We counsel others, pray, lead Bible Study, and offer assurances that we believe with our minds.

And no one sees that there’s been an erosion in some vital formerly functioning sector of belief. But, it’s there, lurking.

We are well-served if we face that necrotic lesion of the soul when it first forms rather than allowing it to fester and spread in the dark.

Zechariah was a devoted follower of God. He was righteous and had walked blamelessly, Luke reports.

He’d long awaited the baby Gabriel announced but somewhere in between the prayer and the promised son, Zechariah let a whisper of unbelief slip into his heart and when the angel spoke, out of the overflow of his heart, words of unbelief were given voice.

The Bible doesn’t tell us specifically why silence was chosen. But Gabriel, perhaps knowing that “on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned” (Matthew 12:36 ESV) silenced Zechariah for nine months.

Zechariah knew and trusted God’s Word. He obeyed Him. He worshipped. He followed. But in this moment, he had faltered.

Several months pass and Gabriel visited another individual, a teenage girl, betrothed to a carpenter. He announced a miraculous child to Mary, too, shattering her life plans with fewer than one hundred words.

Out of the overflow of her heart, she responded – believing Gabriel and humbly offering her obedience to God, even though it would mean hardship, suffering, and changes of plan.

When she visited her cousin, Elizabeth, now six months along with her miracle, they were filled with the Holy Spirit. Elizabeth exclaims, “And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her form the Lord.” (Luke 1:45 ESV).

Blessed is she who believed. Mary didn’t just believe in God, she believed God.

In Mary’s song of praise (the Magnificat), she pours out words that glorify God but also speak boldly of bringing down the mighty from their thrones and sending the rich away empty.

This isn’t an emotional outburst from a young girl living under the oppression of Rome but the triumphant song of a servant of God filled with the Holy Spirit.

Zechariah, Elizabeth, Mary, and all the Israelites with them had been waiting and waiting for the coming Messiah. They would have known the words we know from the prophet Joel, “And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh, your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, and your young men shall see visions. Even on the male and female servants in those days I will pour out my Spirit.” Joel 2:28-29 ESV

But people can become so accustomed to waiting they lose their expectation that what has been promised will actually one day be realized.

In Zechariah’s imposed silence, he would have been prevented from casting any doubt on what was occurring and would have, instead, been privy to witness in silence the outpouring of God’s Holy Spirit on his wife and her young relative.

God’s Word being fulfilled before his eyes. Perhaps the silence was God’s mercy allowing Zechariah to repent of his unbelief and regain full faith before speaking again.

Many others who had given up waiting, yielding to unbelief, simply missed the Messiah, but Zechariah had the opportunity to be quiet and watch God work.

And we find that Zechariah does, indeed, regain his perspective of belief – fitting that in his first verse, he would prophesy redemption – “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has visited and redeemed his people.” Luke 1:68 ESV

We wait now for Jesus to come again. How many of us have waged a private battle with moments of unbelief – moments we only acknowledge in the dark – hoping not to be found out?

The Lord finds us out. And so do our words. For out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks. But in bringing our weakness and sin to light, He shows us mercy, because in His light, we find redemption.

Zechariah’s prophecy ends with this light, “to give knowledge of salvation to his people, in the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.” Luke 1:77-79 ESV

We are free in Christ to confess and repent of our unbelief – even if we’re believers. As He conquered death, so He will conquer the beginnings of necrosis in our souls and restore even hidden sectors to life.

When we speak, do our words send out light? speak of redemption? inspire belief? Or is the overflow of our heart so convoluted we sow confusion, duality, or doubt?

Let us live in His light so that when we speak, our words are not those of unbelief that passes to others like a virus

but instead,  full of faith which spreads like the holy fire of the living God.

When we harbor unbelief, what is the danger? https://t.co/jYpib3gwO7 Why was Zechariah silent? Help our unbelief in our times. #Jesus #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) September 28, 2020

If you’re interested in following along with Lunch with Luke, my weekly Wednesday brief study on Luke but you’re not on Facebook, you can check out the videos on YouTube! Feel free to follow and share! Weeks one through three are posted with more to come: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghINW...

Become a Patron!

The post A Viral Unbelief - The Silence of Zechariah first appeared on Lori Stanley Roeleveld . . . Disturber of Hobbits.

The Hidden Sorrow of Faithfulness in a Fallen World

Our God is faithful.

Even if we are ever not, He always is, of this we can be certain. It’s also clear from Scripture that He calls us to faithfulness. It is, in fact, a fruit of the Holy Spirit – evidence of His presence and work in our lives.

And yet, the call to faithfulness is not an easy road. It’s so hard and so narrow, few will find. And we all know there are moments on this road that knock the wind out of us – some so hard we sit at the road’s edge trying to gather strength to return to it.

The moment of conversion is exciting and profound. In that moment, we’re often surrounded by enthusiasm and support. But the road is long from the ground to glory and there are hidden sorrows and dangers in this long life of faith. We see two of these in the opening chapter of Luke.

You know the story. The priest, Zechariah, and his wife, Elizabeth “were both righteous before God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord.  But they had no child, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were advanced in years.” (ESV)

They are affirmed for their long faithfulness to God. They have remained righteous and blameless despite not receiving their heart’s longing from the Lord.

They would have known the same Psalms we do. We must wonder if during worship it pricked Elizabeth’s heart when they sang Psalm 37:4 “Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” And yet, she walked in His ways.

This passage only whispers of her hidden sorrow until after she learns God has answered her prayers at last and she is five months along with her son. Then she says, “‘Thus the Lord has done for me in the days when he looked on me, to take away my reproach among people.’”

People can be so unkind. We know how vital it was in those times for a woman to fulfill her expected purpose of producing a child. Early on, there would have been encouragement, prayers, and advice. As the years wore on, there might have been pity or understanding. Finally, though, there was reproach. “the expression of disapproval or disappointment.”

Elizabeth had lived the object of disapproval and disappointment to those closest to her. Probably, she put on a brave face, but inside, this would have been a terrible sorrow. And yet, she walked in His ways.

Other faithful followers before Elizabeth knew the joy of faithfulness tinged with the hidden sorrow of reproach – Noah and his wife, Joseph, Job, David, Daniel. When David faced a choice of consequences for counting his people, he replied, “‘I am in great distress. Let us fall into the hand of the Lord, for his mercy is great; but let me not fall into the hand of man.’”

It isn’t a light burden to bear the disapproval of others – to be a living disappointment. Many faithful in Israel expected the Messiah to be different than Jesus. He knew, full well, what it was like to see disappointment in people’s eyes and to bear their disapproval as it was prophesied in Isaiah 53:3 “He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows  and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.”

But, Elizabeth’s reproach had an end. God had a purpose in allowing her to endure her hidden sorrow. She would bear life at a time when others considered her past the ability to do so.

This, too, is like Christ. The climax of his reproach was the cross. As He hung there, He would have seen disappointment in many eyes and disapproval, as well. And yet, He bore life after death – defeating death, long after others considered He would be unable to do so.

We don’t talk about this hidden sorrow, but we should. Not to indulge in group self-pity, but to appreciate it as part of the life of a faithful believer who walks with God for a lifetime. To bear it with one another. To know Christ better through it. And to not allow it to separate us from one another.

It’s too easy for Satan to use any isolation to accuse us and discourage us. We need to remind one another that we, too, can bear life in Christ, long beyond our “life-bearing” years.

When the ministry you’ve tended isn’t bearing fruit. When the dream God gave you is so long delayed, loved ones are quietly encouraging you to give up. When you’ve prayed and prayed – knowing God hears – but haven’t seen His hand move. When you’ve waited your whole life to discover where you might fit in His plan but imagine, now, there is no place for you. Remember Zechariah and Elizabeth.

Galatians 6:9 says, “And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.”

Did you think you were alone, dear one, in secretly growing weary? In wondering if God even sees you any longer? In imagining all your faithfulness was hidden from His eyes?

No, there is a hidden sorrow in life-long faithfulness that touches most who remain on the narrow road.

When you are tempted to doubt His plan for you, to pull off the narrow road, or to listen to the voice of the enemy whisper – “See, God doesn’t hear you. He has no place for you. No plan.”

Say, “No, I come from a long-line of faithful men and women who bore the reproach of others in waiting for God’s perfect timing. I am seen. I am loved. He has a purpose for me, and I will yet bear life in Christ.”

The hidden sorrow of faithfulness in a fallen world https://t.co/XhOVMZE2PU #Jesus #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) September 19, 2020

**Thank you to the many who have agreed to support this website and the blog emails through this tough time. I cannot tell you enough how deeply grateful I am! If you’d like to become a part of this tribe before the first newsletter, it’s not to late. Just click through to my Patreon page.

The post The Hidden Sorrow of Faithfulness in a Fallen World first appeared on Lori Stanley Roeleveld . . . Disturber of Hobbits.

Pastors and the Pandemic – How Did Our Leaders Do?

We know the truth of it – it’s easier to critique from the sidelines than it is to be in the game calling the shots in real time. People make careers critiquing from the cheap seats.

After the fact, we all see clearly. Some have charts and graphs showing what might have happened in their alternate history and we applaud their prophetic hindsight. Their certainty in the aftermath is inspiring.

We cluck our teeth and shake our heads at the shame of wrong calls and missed opportunities. Surely there’s someone else better-suited to lead, we say, and the mob waddles off en masse in search of someone promising to exercise hindsight in the moment.

But, I’m not talking about the presidency. I’m talking about us, the people of God and our local leaders.

We’ve been through a crisis, are living inside a crisis, and anticipate more crises ahead. Congregations are assessing their leadership teams wondering if they should jump ship or maybe, like Jonah’s shipmates, save their ships by tossing their leaders overboard.

I hear you whispering there are no cheap seats in the church, but I beg to differ. Pews are filled with spectators, people who have come to observe and partake but haven’t surrendered their lives to Jesus. The blood of Christ hasn’t afforded them entrance. They jumped the turnstile via the fashion of the times and convenience of geography.

Yes, many in the pews are there by blood (His), but you know them by their wisdom, commitment to biblical truth, and the grace they extend. The others, too often, sound more like Chicken Little than people of faith. More like the disciples in the boat prior to the cross than those willing to suffer and sacrifice following Jesus’ resurrection.

(Who this post is NOT about: Leaders who harbor unrepentant sin, false teaching, or disqualifying behaviors should be confronted and dealt with by biblical means. I have great admiration for the team of leaders in Dallas who kept talking with their pastor about the sin of pride he exhibited and its effect on his congregation. He’s the one in the headlines here but I believe those who, in love, persevered in hard conversations are on Heaven’s front page.)

What this post IS about: But, there are many sincere, biblical, Jesus-loving pastors and leadership teams who have had to make tough calls during the pandemic, the fires, and the election who will face countless criticisms about how they could have been different. And they are now on the firing lines.

A person doesn’t have to be hit with a boulder to go down for the count – they can be buried under a pile of smaller stones. Let’s try to minimize spiritual casualties of COVID among our church leaders.

We, the believers in Jesus, need to assess our response to the events of this year as a WE, not a he/she. Sometimes it’s our expectations that go awry and we need to own that. We’d be wise to keep in mind that in the storm, Jesus didn’t meet His disciples’ expectations.

Jesus and the twelve were in a boat headed across the Sea of Galilee when a storm arose of such fierceness that seasoned fishermen were afraid. Jesus napped in the bow and wasn’t awakened until his disciples cried out to Him that they were about to die. He calmed the wind and waves but chided them for their small faith. They should have trusted that if they were indeed in peril, Jesus would have rescued them, but even with the rough seas, they were not doomed.

Following Jesus means we will all have to learn to weather some frightening storms with only our faith as gear.

As I examine how I’ve responded to the pandemic, I see areas of my faith that need shoring up, better conditioning, and extensive repairs. There were too many moments of fog, of distraction, of white-knuckled fear for my comfort. Too many hours watching talking heads and too few devoted to listening for God’s voice above the wind and the waves.

And this unprecedented year has revealed deficiencies in my pre-COVID life in the areas of evangelism, spiritual discipline, and deeper relationships in my local faith community. I need to ask God to infuse what has been anemic. I can grow. I can mature. I can repent where it’s called for and incorporate this seasoning into my approach to life beyond COVID19. I can be refined by this fire and guided by God’s Holy Word.

And I can’t throw stones. We all could have done better but we can also grow together.

The disciples certainly could have handled that boat ride differently, but Jesus didn’t toss them overboard. The moment was instructive, not definitive. A growth-point, not a final cut from the team. Following Jesus is no easy ride. There were far greater storms ahead for the disciples and there will be for us, as well.

It wasn’t long after the storm and the scolding on their small faith that Jesus empowered them to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal. Proclaiming the gospel, being instrumental in healing, wielding the power of the Holy Spirit – these are heady things. But they come with humbling storms.

The furor and upheaval of 2020 will likely prove, down the road, an opportunity for the church to assess and to armor up for greater gales ahead. Hard conversations are inevitable but let them be ungirded with grace. We are not here to throw stones but to be “living stones built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices to God through Jesus Christ.” 1 Peter 2:5 ESV

When we approach those in local leadership, let us do a shared assessment. Where could we have been stronger together? How could we have served our congregation better together? What do we need to grow up more to prepare for the next wave? What did we come to appreciate about our faith community but where did we exhibit a need for more of Jesus and less of us?

We are not being destroyed, we are being projected into a future planned for us by a loving Father and we are equipped to meet the challenge together through the blood of Jesus and by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Beyond COVID19 lies our destiny in Christ, let us step into it together.

 

**Thank you to everyone who has stepped up to fund the continuation of this website and blogs. In a normal year, I can back it myself but 2020 has not been normal. There are still some spots remaining for anyone who would like to become a patron of my work before the first patron’s only newsletter goes out. Thank you, all, for your kind support! Just click through to my Patreon site for secure patronage!

And, if you’d like to join me on Wednesdays at 12 noon EST, I’m doing a brief reflection Live on Facebook called Lunch with Luke as we work our way through the gospel, making certain the things we’ve been taught. The first video is HERE and for the next one, join me on my Facebook page Wednesday at 12 noon ESt.

How He Could Have Handled the Crisis Better https://t.co/MuIsRRzgXN #Election2020 #Jesus #leadership

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) September 15, 2020

The post Pastors and the Pandemic - How Did Our Leaders Do? first appeared on Lori Stanley Roeleveld . . . Disturber of Hobbits.