Charles R. Swindoll's Blog, page 11

If you enjoy watching and playing the game of football (I certainly do), you have observed a curious activity called a “spike.” It’s rather unusual. A team fights its way toward the goal line yard by yard. Minutes seem like hours as the offensive team plods along and presses on. Suddenly, it happens. A play works beautifully, and streaking to the long-awaited touchdown is a muscular running back or some fleet-footed wide receiver. Six points! But as soon as he crosses the line, this athlete takes the ball and slams the little thing to the ground. With all his might! The guy doesn’t so much as say, “Thanks, ball.”

I’ve thought, What if that ball had feeling? What if it could talk? Can you imagine how it would react after being spiked? It had done its job well. Stayed inflated. Didn’t jump out of the player’s arms—no fumble. And after all that, all the thanks it gets is a vicious spike. Talk about rejection!

So it is with pastors. We do what is right . . . and we get tossed aside. Sometimes, “spiked” viciously. It hurts.

I urge you to listen up! Every once in a while we are going to get kicked. Now, this doesn’t mean God has abandoned us or that we are out of His will. It just means people are people, sheep are sheep. It’s all part of the humbling process God uses in shaping our lives “to bear the family likeness of His Son” (Romans 8:29 Phillips).

“Struck down”—as Paul puts it in 2 Corinthians 4:9—it’s the idea of being thrown down, shoved aside, or cast off. This explains why J. B. Phillips paraphrases it, “we may be knocked down.” Amazing thing! Even though we may faithfully and consistently do our job, help and serve and give to others, we can expect, on occasion, to be thrown aside and rejected . . . knocked down. Let’s don’t be caught off guard.

—Chuck

In last week’s post, we were
introduced to four common struggles all servants of God face. Really, they’re
consequences. In 2 Corinthians 4:8–9 we read them: afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, struck down.

The first word, translated “afflicted,”
comes from a Greek term that suggests the idea of pressure. This is stress
brought on by difficult circumstances or by antagonistic people. In other
words, when servants are “afflicted,” they feel under pressure, harassed, and
oppressed. The Greek verb, thlibo, is
a strong term, meaning at times “to treat with hostility.”

Paul goes on to write there are
times when servants of God become “perplexed.” Interestingly, the combination
of Greek terms that comprise the original word means “without a way.” It is a
picture of confusion—not knowing where or to whom to turn for help. Included in
the meaning of this word would be such perplexing predicaments as being without
necessary resources, feeling embarrassed, and in doubt so far as procedure is
concerned. We have the phrase, “at a loss” which adequately describes that
uncertain feeling. There is more.

Originally, the term persecution meant “to run after,
pursue.” It’s the idea of being chased, having others “on our case,” we would
say. It is an active, aggressive word conveying everything from being
intimidated to being assaulted, actually attacked. Servants will suffer persecution. You may recall
Paul’s words, written to Timothy: “Indeed, all who desire to live godly in
Christ Jesus will be persecuted” (2 Timothy 3:12). Persecution is one of those
painful consequences, along with affliction and confusion.

Finally, he names one more
consequence—rejection. That’s next
week.

—Chuck

Read the words of the apostle Paul—an honest, humble, transparent servant of God:

For we do not preach ourselves but Christ Jesus as Lord, and ourselves as your bond-servants for Jesus’ sake. For God, who said, “Light shall shine out of darkness,” is the One who has shone in our hearts to give the Light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves. (2 Corinthians 4:5–7)

We pastors have received a priceless treasure (the glorious gospel) in a very frail and perishable container (our weak bodies). There is a reason. So nobody will have any question about the source of power, which must be of God and not of any human origin.

And so—to verify just how frail and fragile our humanity is, Paul lists four common struggles servants of God live with. I’m calling them consequences. Let’s see all four in the two verses that follow before we analyze each one in the next few posts.

We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.
(2 Corinthians 4:8–9)

If you have a pencil handy, you might circle these terms in your Bible: afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, struck down. These are four consequences of serving God. Although we’ll unpack and apply these terms in the next few posts, take a moment and read those verses again—preferably aloud—emphasizing the words you’ve circled.

Have you experienced these consequences—yet?

—Chuck

Greathearted, loving, caring, sacrificial servants of the living God have known ill treatment down through the centuries. The consequence of serving is no new phenomenon. It goes a long way back in time.

I’m not aware of a more moving section of Scripture than these verses out of Hebrews 11, which declare the reality of the consequences of serving:

And some women, through faith, received their loved ones back again from death. But others trusted God and were beaten to death, preferring to die rather than turn from God and be free—trusting that they would rise to a better life afterwards. Some were laughed at and their backs cut open with whips, and others were chained in dungeons. Some died by stoning and some by being sawed in two; others were promised freedom if they would renounce their faith, then were killed with the sword. Some went about in skins of sheep and goats, wandering over deserts and mountains, hiding in dens and caves. They were hungry and sick and ill-treated—too good for this world. And these men of faith, though they trusted God and won his approval, none of them received all that God had promised them. (Hebrews 11:35–39 TLB)

Tortured. Rejected. Threatened. Hungry. Sick. Martyred. People who were “too good for this world” were kicked around like big rag dolls . . . even though they gave and even though they served. If it happened to them—need I say more? Yes, maybe I should.

My major goal in my upcoming posts is to help prepare you for the inevitable. Bitterness is often bred in a context of disillusionment. Many a pastor, regrettably, is sidelined today, being eaten alive by the acid of resentment and bitterness, because he or she was mistreated after doing what was right.

My hope for you is that you will be preserved from the paralyzing sting of bitterness and disillusionment.

—Chuck

The date September 11, 2001, is
forever etched in the national memory of the United States. That morning stands
as the never-to-be-forgotten morning when time stood still. Wherever we were,
we stared in horror and confusion. With calculated and unconscionable malice,
beastly terrorists stabbed our nation repeatedly in the heart—at the World
Trade Center in New York, at the Pentagon in Washington D.C., and along a quiet
countryside in southwest Pennsylvania.

We remember and honor the almost three thousand
dead—American citizens and foreign visitors. The anniversary of September 11
may be one we’d like to forget . . . but we won’t, because we can’t.

We dare not forget.

A
Chronicle of Chaos

You only have to read a brief log of
events to remember what transpired that frightening morning. The times I refer
to are based on central standard time.

 At 6:58
a.m., United Airlines Flight 175 left Boston bound for Los
Angeles with fifty-six passengers, two pilots, and seven flight
attendants.
One
minute later, at 6:59 a.m., American Airlines Flight 11 departed Boston en
route to Los Angeles with eighty-one passengers, two pilots, and nine
flight attendants.
Two
minutes later, at 7:01 a.m., United Airlines Flight 93 left Newark, New
Jersey, headed to San Francisco with thirty-eight passengers, two pilots,
and five flight attendants.
Nine
minutes later, at 7:10 a.m., American Airlines Flight 77 took off from
Dulles International Airport in Washington D.C. bound for Los Angeles with
fifty-eight passengers, two pilots, and four flight attendants.
Thirty-five
minutes later, at 7:45 a.m., American Flight 11 plunged into the north
tower of the World Trade Center in Manhattan—a direct hit.
Eighteen
minutes after the north tower was hit, at 8:03 a.m., United Flight 175
crashed into the south tower of the World Trade Center.
Forty
minutes after the south tower was hit, at 8:43 a.m., American Flight 77
crashed full throttle into the Pentagon, ripping open a hole at least two
hundred feet wide on the west side. Flames exploded from the nerve center
of our nation’s major military facility.
Seven
minutes after the Pentagon was hit, at 8:50 a.m., the south tower of the
World Trade Center collapsed.
Eight
minutes later, at 8:58 a.m., an emergency dispatcher in Westmoreland
County, Pennsylvania, received a cell phone call from a man who said he
was a passenger locked in the bathroom of United Flight 93. The dispatcher
quoted the man as saying, “We are being hijacked! We are being hijacked!”
The man then said the plane was going down and reported some sort of
explosion and white smoke coming from the plane. At that moment, the
dispatcher lost contact.
Twelve
minutes after that cell phone call, at 9:10 a.m., United Flight 93 from
Newark to San Francisco crashed near Somerset, Pennsylvania, eighty miles
southeast of Pittsburgh. Representative James Moran of Virginia, after a
Marine Corps briefing, said that hijackers evidently planned to crash the
plane into the presidential retreat at Camp David or the United States
Capitol building.
At the
same moment, 9:10 a.m., a portion of the Pentagon collapsed.
Only nineteen
minutes after the Pentagon’s west side collapsed, at 9:29 a.m., the north
tower of the World Trade Center collapsed.

The whirlwind of repeated tragedies left us stunned, reeling
in disbelief. I thought I had already lived through America’s worst disasters.
How wrong I was.

Right on schedule, the horrible events, planned to the point
of precision, ran their course. Thousands of unsuspecting civilians were
brutally murdered. Our fellow Americans bled and died—some immediately, many
slowly and painfully, all unexpectedly. Others bravely escaped with their lives
bruised, broken, and burned. Whether whispered, shouted, or pondered in silence,
the question most people were asking was: “Why, God?”

I
Don’t Know Why, But I Do Know Who

In my many years on this earth, I
thought I had seen it all . . . until September 11, 2001. On that day, I got a
new understanding of the total depravity of humanity. And as a byproduct, I
have a new appreciation for the gifts of liberty and life itself—for the love
of my wife, my family, and my friends—and for the power of the human spirit to
press on and to recover from tragedy, no matter the sacrifice or cost.

Today, the men and women who made it through the hellish
anguish of September 11—who were in the towers and the Pentagon or who lost loved
ones on the planes and in the buildings and in that Pennsylvania field—live
with deep physical, emotional, and spiritual scars. Each anniversary, no doubt,
reopens those scars and causes many to question anew, “Why, God?” And if we’re
honest, as we contemplate recent world events, some of us wonder the same
thing.

I don’t know the answer. But I do know this: our God is still
sovereign; He is still in control. He is our refuge; He is our solid
foundation. We can hold on to that truth. We must hold on to that truth! How can we be so sure? Read on.

How
Firm a Foundation

At 7:30 p.m. on September 11, 2001,
as millions of Americans met in places of worship to pray, the president
addressed the nation in a speech we all watched and recorded for later viewing.
One statement he made stood out in my mind and still lingers today: “Terrorist
attacks can shake the foundations of our biggest buildings, but they cannot
touch the foundation of America.”1

As I listened to President George W. Bush that somber night,
I remembered a psalm I had studied years ago. David wrote Psalm 11 probably
while being hunted by King Saul. With borderline insane paranoia, Saul had begun
seeking David’s life, believing the young man was out to get him and take his
position as king. David was on the run. As he wrote in the first part of this
psalm, he had fled as a bird to the mountain. And in that hiding place,
momentarily removed from danger, he asked this question:

“If the foundations
are destroyed,
What can the righteous
do?” (Psalm 11:3)

Great question! Webster tells us a foundation is the
“basis . . . upon which something stands or is
supported.”2 Every house, every significant structure, every
building has a foundation. The taller the building, the deeper and more
important the foundation. Destroy the building’s foundation, and you topple the
building.

This was precisely David’s point. He wasn’t referring to
structures. No house or building was in his mind, and there’s no reference to
such in this psalm. Instead, this psalm is about life. David was saying that if
the foundation of a life is destroyed, that life crumbles. But if the
foundation remains secure, no amount of stress—in David’s case, no attack by
Saul—can cause a life to fracture or crumble. Psalm 11 reveals that David could
feel this truth being put to the test.

You see, one of the most effective weapons in those days was
a sharp, slender arrow slipped from the bow and guided to the target by a
marksman’s eye. David viewed the treacherous, threatening words of Saul as
arrows coming from a warrior. Look at his vivid word picture:

Behold, the wicked
bend the bow,
They make ready their
arrow upon the string. (11:2)

David’s point was that the wicked bend their bows; they make
ready deadly arrows on the string. I don’t think he had literal bows and arrows
in mind. Rather, he was thinking of words shot at him and statements made
against him, as part of the plot to bring him down. But he wasn’t brought down
. . . because the foundations of his life were strong.

If those foundations hadn’t been secure, his life would’ve collapsed,
dropped like a sack of salt. How do I know his foundations were secure? Look again
at the first verse. Occasionally in the psalms, the gist of the whole message
is in the first sentence, and everything that follows is an amplification. This
psalm is like that:

In the Lord I take refuge;
How
can you say to my soul, “Flee as a bird to your
    mountain”? (11:1)

David essentially said, “My soul is not on the run. My
spirit has not capsized, because in the Lord I take refuge.” A refuge is a
place of hiding, a place of protection. The ancient Hebrew term—chasah—means a protective place that
provides safety from that which would hit and hurt. It’s a protective shield from
danger and distress. David made it clear that Yahweh was his chasah. Because
that was true, David could know, and we can know, his foundations were sure.

An old country preacher once said, “I may tremble on the
rock, but the Rock don’t tremble under me.” He was right. The Rock is our solid
foundation. It stands firm no matter what. It is our place of refuge.

God
Is Our Refuge

That word refuge reminds me of another psalm—the forty-sixth. Who wouldn’t
find comfort in the hope of this ancient promise? This is the very psalm in
which Martin Luther found refuge more than five hundred years ago. Hiding in its
truths he found strength. Psalm 46 gave him fresh courage to press on, even
though he was misunderstood, maligned, and mistreated. How comforting to him were
those words, “God is our refuge” (chasah,
same word).

God is our refuge and
strength,
A very present help in
trouble. (46:1)

The opening lines of this
forty-sixth psalm later inspired Luther to write, “Ein’ Feste Burg Ist Unser Gott”—“A high tower is the Lord our God.”
We sing those words today:

A mighty fortress is
our God,
A bulwark never
failing.3

Why is such a foundation sure? Because it is God Himself!
Our foundation is the God of creation. The God who made us is the God who
shelters us.

He who dwells in the shelter
of the Most High
Will abide in the
shadow of the Almighty. [El Shaddai]
I will say to the Lord, “My refuge [my chasah] and my
     fortress,
My God, in whom I
trust!” (Psalm 91:1–2)

No matter how insecure and chaotic our times may be! No
matter if terrorists topple our buildings or kill our fellow citizens! No
matter if God doesn’t fully answer our question, Why? On that solid foundation of our Sovereign God—and only there—we are secure.

—Chuck

 A
Prayer of Remembrance

Lord, we bow before our great God,
who offers His peace when so many panic. You are our refuge, our one and only chasah. Rivet that into our minds. Prompt
us to pause, and let that sink in. Remind us of Your power and presence when
evening song changes into the fearful tears of the night. Remind us of that
when the shrill ring of the phone awakens us. Remind us of that when we sit
down and read the morning headlines. Remind us of that on this day of
remembrance—this eleventh anniversary of that infamous day, September 11, 2001.
Remind us, even when we don’t understand the why of what’s happening, that we
have no reason to fear, that we need not be moved, and that our future is never
uncertain with You.

In the strong name of Christ, our Shield, our Refuge, our almighty
Lord, Amen.

Endnotes

George W. Bush, “Statement by the President in His
Address to the Nation,” White House, Washington, D.C., September 11, 2001, http://georgewbush-whitehouse.archive...
(accessed July 18, 2011).
Merriam-Webster’s
Collegiate Dictionary, 11th ed. (Springfield, Mass.: Merriam-Webster, 2008),
“foundation.”
Martin Luther, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” The Hymnal for Worship and Celebration
(Waco, Tex.: Word Music, 1986), 26.

Excerpted
from Charles R. Swindoll, Why, God? Calming Words for Chaotic Times
(Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2001). Copyright © 2001 by Charles R. Swindoll,
Inc. All rights reserved worldwide.

As you serve people in ministry, you will give, forgive, forget, release your own will, obey God to the maximum, and wash dirty feet with an attitude of gentleness and humility. And yet, after all those beautiful things, you will occasionally get ripped off. Knowing all this ahead of time will help “improve your serve,” believe me.

The Bible doesn’t hide this painful reality from us. In 1 Peter 2:20 (addressed to servants, by the way—see verse 18), we read: “For what credit is there if, when you sin and are harshly treated, you endure it with patience? But if when you do what is right and suffer for it you patiently endure it, this finds favor with God.”

Part of this “makes sense,” according to our logical-and-fair standard. Part of it doesn’t. If a person does wrong and then suffers the consequences, even though he or she patiently endures the punishment, nobody applauds.

But—now get this clearly fixed in your mind—when you do what is right and suffer for it with grace and patience, God applauds! Illustration: Jesus Christ’s suffering and death on the cross. He, the perfect God-man, was mistreated, hated, maligned, beaten, and finally nailed cruelly to a cross. He suffered awful consequences, even though He spent His life giving and serving (1 Peter 3:17–18).

One thing is certain: if people treated a perfect individual that way, then imperfect people cannot expect to escape mistreatment.

If mistreatment hasn’t happened to you yet . . . it will.

—Chuck

We Americans like things to be logical and fair. We not only like that, we operate our lives on that basis. Logic and fairness are major priorities in our society.

Meaning this: if I do what is right, good will come to me, and if I do what is wrong, bad things will happen to me. Right brings rewards . . . wrong brings consequences. That’s a very logical and fair axiom of life, but there’s only one problem with it. It isn’t always true. Life doesn’t work out quite that neatly.

Ministry is part of life.

There isn’t a pastor reading these words who hasn’t had the tables turned. All of us have had the unhappy and unfortunate experience of doing what is right, after which we suffered for it. And we have also done some things that were wrong without being punished. The latter, we can handle rather easily . . . but the former is a huge pill to swallow.

I don’t find it a nagging problem, for example, to drive 75 miles an hour on the highway and get away with it. Normally, I don’t lie awake through the night feeling badly because an officer failed to give me a ticket for driving five miles an hour above the limit—even though, in all fairness, I deserved one. But you let one of those guys ticket me when I have done nothing wrong, and frankly, I’m fit to be tied! And so are you. We hate being ripped off. Consequences belong to wrong actions. When they attach themselves to right actions, we struggle with resentment and anger.

I wish I could say that the only place such things happen is in our driving, but I cannot. They also happen in our serving in ministry.

—Chuck

Suffering is a universal experience. No matter what language we speak . . . no matter what ethnic or economic background we represent, each of us knows heartache. In fact, Joseph Parker, a great preacher of yesteryear, once said to a group of young ministers, “Preach to the suffering and you will never lack a congregation. There is a broken heart in every pew.”

I know I don’t need to convince you of that. You hear variations on that theme countless times each week as you interact and counsel with people who need direction and encouragement from God’s Word. For us, the question is obvious: “In light of my demanding schedule as a pastor, how do I adequately prepare in order to point my counselees toward healing and hope?”

We at Insight for Living Ministries ask ourselves this question too . . . because people continually turn to us asking for answers to their own tough questions. And so, through years of intensive, elbow-deep study of God’s Word and continual involvement with people, we created a resource especially to help the busy pastor.

Counseling Insights touches upon the central issues of marriage, the family, the Christian life, as well as personal and emotional issues. Each chapter includes:

Preparation for counseling sessions, including a case study and sample questions to ask
A biblical framework for understanding the problem being considered and a discussion of the Scriptures specifically related to that issue
Varied “tried-and-true” suggestions to help the counselee through the correction, healing, and restorative processes necessary for lifelong emotional and spiritual maturity

In this very helpful counseling resource, you will not find simplistic clichés or quick-fix solutions but biblically based principles that equip you to offer assistance to those struggling through life’s deepest hurts.

Our prayer is that Counseling Insights will become a tool that genuinely assists you as you minister to others. You can download individual topics or the entire set here.

—Chuck

Strengthening God’s church is one of my lifelong passions. I know you share that passion. All of us as pastors do. It’s who we are.

To that end, I’m pleased to introduce you to Insight for Living Ministries’ new Church Resource Web page. From this page, you can access excellent materials for you as a pastor, for small groups, and for your church. You’re already aware of my Pastor’s Blog. Some of the other resources include:

Video Insights to use in your worship services
Group study tools
Product discounts

With all our church resources in one convenient place, it’s easy to find tools that will help you encourage, educate, and lead your church more effectively.

You can check out the page here.

Chuck

Reading the words of our Savior, we need to realize the tremendous emphasis He put on obedience. As I think about appropriating Christ’s model and commands for us in the ministry, three specifics are important enough to mention.

First, obedience means personal involvement. Jesus told His disciples, “If I then, the Lord and the Teacher, washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet” (John 13:14). We cannot serve our congregations in absentia or at arm’s length. It means if someone is drowning in a troubled sea, we get wet . . . we get involved. It means if someone drifts away, we don’t ignore that person or simply pray, we reach out to help and restore. Think about this. Honestly now, are you willing to get personally involved and help at least one person in need? Willingness must precede involvement.

Second, obedience requires Christlike unselfishness. He said it Himself, “For I gave you an example that you also should do as I did to you” (John 13:15). Let your eyes dig into those words. To pull off this concept, we’ll need to see others as Christ sees them. We’ll need to risk reaching out, giving up the luxury of staying safely cloistered in our studies. . . giving up our preferences for His. Unselfishness never comes easy.

Finally, obedience results in ultimate happiness. I love Jesus’s affirmation, “If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them” (John 13:17). Notice, in the final analysis, happiness comes from doing these things. Meaning what? Namely this, we have to carry it out before we can enter into the joy of serving. Just studying about it or preaching on it produces no lasting happiness. The fun comes when we roll up our sleeves, wrap the towel around our waist, and wash a few feet . . . quietly . . . graciously . . . cheerfully like Christ who was “gentle” and “humble in heart.”

Does that mean it will never backfire on us? Am I saying those with servant hearts will not get ripped off or hurt in the process? Does this promise of happiness mean we’ll be protected from suffering? No, a thousand times no! To keep everything realistic, we must face the very painful consequences. Even when we have been “gentle” and “humble in heart.”

What else can we expect? The perfect Model of obedience finished His earthly ministry hanging from a cross.

—Chuck