My Blog

On the firing line

by John Fischer

In his first letter to the church at Corinth, Paul has to correct a false assumption. “I have written in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral people – not at all meaning the people of this world who are immoral, or the greedy and swindlers, or idolaters. In that case you would have to leave this world.” (1 Corinthians 5:9-10 NIV) His assumption – that of course followers of Christ will be associating with immoral people – is not a commonly held assumption in most Christian circles where avoiding people like this is the more usual practice. But his argument is basic common sense. The only way to avoid immoral people would be to “leave this world,” because, well, the world is pretty much populated with people like this. In other words, there is a shortage of morally upright, kind, generous, God-fearing people in the world. If those are the only people you are going to allow yourself to associate with, you might find yourself in very limited company. (And I would have to add, from experience, you would most likely end up in the company of people who are morally upright in their own minds only, and not in their heart of hearts.) This should actually be welcoming news for most of us who know that there isn’t much that separates us as followers of Christ from anyone else, but the grace of God – a grace that is extended to anyone and everyone without exception or distinction. I offer, for your reflection along these lines, a quote from the “Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous” passed on to me by a fellow Christian who is a recovering alcoholic. Why sit with a long face in places where there is drinking, sighing about the good old days. If it is a happy occasion, try to increase the pleasure of those there; if a business occasion, go and attend to your business enthusiastically. If you are with a person who wants to eat in a bar, by all means go along. Let your friends know they are not to change their habits on your account. At a proper time and place explain to all your friends why alcohol disagrees with you. If you do this thoroughly, few people will ask you to drink. While you were drinking, you were withdrawing from life little by little. Now you are getting back into the social life of this world. Don’t start to withdraw again just because your friends drink liquor. Your job now is to be at the place where you may be of maximum helpfulness to others, so never hesitate to go anywhere if you can be helpful. You should not hesitate to visit the most sordid spot on earth on such an errand. Keep on the firing line of life with these motives and God will keep you unharmed. Now that’s someone with a purpose!

That first Easter morning
by John Fischer

(Part III of a three-part series of historical fiction around the events of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus.)

The sun rose that first Easter morning on an entirely different world than the one that had existed hours earlier. For most people, to be sure, it was the same. Birds twittered as they usually did in their pre-dawn revelry. Lazy dogs barked at the sound of the first early risers. In his penthouse in downtown Jerusalem, Pilate rolled over in bed and moaned at the mockingbird making a racket on his veranda. He could feel his wife’s stiffness next to him. He didn’t even have to look to see her wide, sleepless eyes locked on a crack in the ceiling for fear of the dreams that might come back if she closed them.

In the nearby barracks, a soldier snored on in thick oblivion. Soon his comrades would wake up to wicked hangovers, a usual Sunday morning experience. Things were always quiet on the Jewish Sabbath, so Saturdays became party time for the Roman soldiers.

Out in the courtyard, roosters crowed, and Peter, curled up next to a stone wall, was sure he heard every last one of them. He hadn’t been sleeping, either. All those great plans and dreams for himself and his nation had vanished with three denials and two rooster crows. Roosters had been rattling and cackling in his brain for two nights. They wouldn’t let him sleep, and they wouldn’t let him forget that look on the Savior’s face that left him frozen in his betrayal.

On the edge of town, three women made their way quietly through abandoned narrow streets, clutching vials of sweet-smelling perfume. In the hazy light of early morning, they were headed for Joseph’s garden, where the remains of the man they pinned their hopes on as the Son of God laid without proper respect. There had been no time on Friday to anoint the funeral wrappings, and such activity was forbidden on the Sabbath. Nicodemus and Joseph had done a credible job with limited time and little preparation, but it fell to the women to complete the burial requirements – as much for their own sake as for the sake of the custom.

Just when they started to wonder who might help them move the huge stone over the face of the tomb, they found, lo and behold, that the stone had already been moved away. The soldiers guarding it shifted on the ground in a deep sleep; the wrappings that should have been around the body lay limply on the rocky shelf inside. And an angelic being, bright and glorious, asked a question that would change them and the world forever: “Why do you seek the living among the dead?”

May your Easter celebrations be filled with the same joy and wonder these women experienced on that first Easter morning!

A war hero without a gun
by John Fischer

He didn’t carry a gun, but he received the Medal of Honor for his action in World War II. He never pulled a trigger or threw a grenade, but he received the Bronze Star for his valor in the midst of heavy enemy fire. He personally objected to killing, but he was willing to serve the greater war effort, and he did so by saving lives instead of taking them. His name is Desmond T. Doss and he was recently celebrated, in his passing, by stories about his unique service in the United States Army.

Desmond was a devout believer who refused to carry a gun because of his personal conviction not to kill anyone for any reason. (The closest he got to a gun was an M-1 rifle stock he used to splint his own shattered arm while he tended to the wounded.) He served as a medic and once rescued 75 men in one operation amidst heavy enemy fire. He endured ridicule from fellow soldiers until, in the heat of battle, they saw what he was made of. And when his entire company fought in extraordinarily close quarters with the enemy and not one of them was killed, they, to a man, credited their success and safety to Desmond’s prayers. Here was a man who found a way to serve a war effort dedicated to killing while serving his own convictions not to kill at the same time.

Often we find ourselves in situations that are less than morally pristine. And yet we are called to serve the Kingdom of God. How do we do that? Desmond T. Doss found a way to do both. He even made up a term for himself: conscientious cooperator.

Believers serving in political office have to deal with the slippery slope of compromise all the time. Believers in the entertainment industry have to use their talents for less than ideal stories, or portray moral ambiguity in their acting. And believers often work for employers with questionable ethics. The lines are not always drawn in the sand. There are times when the right thing is to conscientiously object. But there are also times when the right thing is to conscientiously cooperate by finding that which we can accomplish for the Kingdom of God in the midst of lesser things.

This is not a perfect world. Everything you do, buy, or earn has been touched with impure hands somewhere along the line of getting to you. Like Desmond, we have to find out what we can do to serve God here.

One picture that should work for all of us is to see ourselves ducking under enemy fire to rescue the wounded and bring them to Christ for healing. Whatever else we are doing, that’s our real job.

‘The Great Donut Rip-off’ by John Fischer

Nathan, one of our regular readers, sent me a story about an experience he had recently in the airport returning home from a busy week of business meetings. Passing a donut stand, he thought it would be a great idea to bring a few home as a treat for his family, so he purchased four donuts. Walking away from the counter, he thought of getting four more for his brother’s family, so he got back in line. While he was waiting, he noticed a special on a dozen donuts for only $16. Wow, for $8 more he could get eight more donuts. That’s four free! But when he got to the counter there was nothing doing. They refused to take $8 more and count it as the $16 deal. This was a new transaction. He had walked away from his first one. He had lost his chance. He would have to come up with $16 more to qualify for the special deal. Furious, he paid $8 for four more donuts and sat down fuming. All he could think about were those four free donuts he felt he was entitled to. I understand his reaction, but then again, this was an airport, and no one cares about return customers. Just a steady stream of nameless faces. So while Nathan was sitting there with his two little bags of donuts, going over all this in his mind, (it was probably therapeutic for him to have nothing but donuts to fuss over, but he wouldn’t have noticed that then) he suddenly became aware of a conversation behind him. A child was talking in elated tones about riding on the back of Dad’s four-wheel motorbike. The kid’s enthusiasm was contagious and Nathan couldn’t help but glance over there and see a girl in a wheelchair about 6 years old, full of smiles, laughter, and life. “Suddenly, I felt very embarrassed and foolish for getting angry over some stupid donuts that cost a little extra money,” Nathan said. “Here was a girl vibrant with life, in a wheelchair, teaching me that small things don’t matter. After that, I was praising God for his infinite wisdom in showing me the foolishness of my anger.” In my own experience, I’ve noticed that when I find myself getting worked up over insignificant stuff like this, it’s usually because there are other, far more important things that I should be doing. It’s not donuts I’m mad about; it’s a host of other things I am avoiding. “The Great Donut Rip-off” just gives me an excuse to put it all on something other than myself. And then there’s this child with so much more reason to be angry, and she’s simply enjoying the life God gave her. Good lesson, Nathan. It’s all about perspective, isn’t it? If you find yourself blowing up today about something that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, stop and ask God to show you what does.

Putting the ‘fun’ back in dysfunctional
by John Fischer

I have a friend who wrote me about a fridge magnet she put on display for her family. It reads: "Let’s put the ‘fun’ back in dysfunctional."

Now, I happen to know this lady is separated from her husband and trading kids back and forth between them, so when she says “dysfunctional,” you have the idea she knows what she’s talking about.

Well, what could possibly be fun about her situation? Not much, maybe, but I hope she can find something, because it would be awful to be so enslaved by your circumstances that it is impossible to find any “fun” in your “dysfunction.”

Right now I am dealing with a particular piece of bad news that is threatening to get a grip around my heart and render it incapable of believing. Some of you woke up depressed this morning. What could be fun about that? I happen to know that one of our readers is shuttling devotionals to prisoners on death row through contacts she maintained from her own incarceration. Can you possibly imagine what these men and women wake up to every morning? Point is: If God can’t meet us in the middle of whatever bad news we are in, then he can’t meet most of us, and we are all in big trouble.

So here is some “fun” you might want to put in the middle of your “dysfunctional” life:

There is nothing too big for God to handle. (Matthew 19:26)
There is nothing too bad for him to forgive. (1 John 1:9)

The forces that threaten to steal your life and your future are puny compared to his awesome power. (Romans 8:38-39)

He could change your fortunes in a day if he wanted to. (Daniel 2:21)

If he doesn’t, there’s a good reason why. (Proverbs 16:9)

He not only loves you, he is delighted with you despite all your dysfunctions, and revels in every moment you spend with him. (Song of Solomon 2:10-13)

He knows your sorrow. He remembers that you are dust, and collects all your tears in a bottle. (Psalm 103:14; Psalm 56:8)

He will give you strength and courage for whatever you may yet have to go through. (Romans 8:31)

Someday, from your mansion in heaven, you will look back on this day and smile, because you will realize that your light and momentary troubles were achieving for you an eternal glory that far outweighs them all in comparison. (2 Corinthians 4:17-18)

There. Think you can manage a smile? This “fun” stuff isn’t just wishful thinking. It is real, and it exists in spite of everything around us. Kind of like the “fun” in dysfunctional that I bet you didn’t even know was there until now.

Jesus, in the company of friends
by John Fischer

"If I could, I’d return to early Christianity, before it became a state religion under Constantine … when it was a company of friends whose inspired leader once said that the one without sin should pick up the first stone."

I love this quote by Nora Gallagher. It was in the Los Angeles Times today (March 24) as the last sentence of an article, “Cutting at Christianity,” in which the writer states her opinion that the reason the secular world dislikes Christianity so much is that, by and large, they’ve got the wrong one in mind. To correct this, she offers Jesus, in the company of friends. I think she’s right about what will change perceptions and change the world.

Pretty good definition of the Church come to think of it: Jesus, in the company of friends. At least if you go to church, that’s what you should find. And not just people who are friends with each other, but people who are eager to be your friend, too, no matter who you are or what you’ve done. Robert Farrar Capon once defined the Church as “a community of astonished hearts, proclaiming the end of religion in Jesus.” There you have it: Jesus, in the company of friends.

Many people are confused about Christianity these days. You could almost say there is too much Christianity – enough that you have to at least wonder sometimes if you have the real thing. But I think I know where to find the real thing. Look for Jesus, in the company of friends. If you come to Saddleback Church – to any church for that matter – and don’t find Jesus, in the company of friends, you have my permission to go somewhere else. (As if my permission meant anything, but it sounded really good!)

And if you are fortunate enough to be in a small group of believers and/or seekers, what you really have is Jesus, in the company of friends. Jesus claimed that when as few as two or three gather in his name, he is there. So the biggest church and the smallest group hopefully come down to the same thing – you guessed it: Jesus, in the company of friends.

Kind of cuts through all that red tape and worship wars and petty infighting and separatist isolationism doesn’t it? And it even captures what is beautiful and lasting about this online network that has sprung up around the banner of Purpose Driven Life and all of you who have signed up for these daily messages – regardless of how big our numbers get or how long this thing lasts. Bottom line is, we’re just friends, in the company of Jesus.

All I can say is, it’s nice to be with Jesus, and it’s nice to be with you. Glad you’re with us!

Following Instructions

Everyone knows that most toys and electronic gizmos come complete with accompanying instructions, and my wife and I are at opposite ends of the pole regarding what to do with these. She thinks they belong in the bottom of the box. I, on the other hand, obsess over instructions. I especially like the ones that give you an inventory of parts before you begin so you can be sure everything is there. I lay all the pieces out and notice if there are two sizes of the same thing like screws or dowels. Just because something fits doesn’t mean it’s the only thing that goes there. Then I take it step by step. I check and recheck the pictures as I go. I have to have total concentration when I do this, because sometimes deciphering these instructions is like reading another language. I actually enjoy this. My wife and son do not. “Papa! Why are you taking so long?” This usually elicits a reaction from my wife who believes that I didn’t involve my older children enough in projects like this when they were little, and now is my chance to make that up by letting Chandler help me so that we do this thing together. She would undoubtedly believe that if I let him help me and he ruined the whole thing in the process, it was worth it for what he learned by trying and what we built by working together. What is she thinking? The worst is when she decides she and Chandler are going to put something together without me, and I have to watch the two of them guess at the pieces with the instructions in the bottom of the box. This is when I usually leave the room (I can’t take the suspense) and return to her gloating looks as they roll out the finished product. Marti doesn’t care about getting it right as much as she cares about spending time with her son. I have to admit that I now believe Marti’s choices are better. God has given us his Word, which includes a lot of instructions for living that we are prone to miss sometimes. But I don’t think that getting us to live right is his ultimate goal. His goal is to have a relationship with us. We can try and put our lives together, even study the Bible diligently, and get so stuck in the instructions that we miss the whole point altogether. Making life work is not the only thing that is important. Doing it with someone else is just as important, and ultimately, knowing God is the point of the whole thing. Come to think of it, loving God with everything we have is the only instruction he really cares about.