For almost 4 years I had the privilege & challenge of writing a weekly editorial for The Lookout, a Christian living & devotional magazine. As I ended my tenure there, the timing fell on a series we developed about Jesus' encounters with people and what we can learn from his actions and words. I enjoyed writing these last editorials. I hope you enjoy reading them. Others in this series: round 1, round 2, and round 4.

It’s never fun to open a book and discover you relate to the bad guys. How am I a Pharisee? Let me count the ways.

For years when I read about pharisaical tendencies in the Bible, I felt chief among them. Their qualities were my qualities. Their desire for rule, order, discipline, and legalism fit my personality. But as the years went by, the more people I met, the more I discovered others' flaws as well as their winsome ways. Role models toppled off pedestals, left and right. How could heroes of mine have a dark side? Things weren’t so black and white.

At some point that fallen person was me. As good as I liked to paint myself, the picture wasn’t always pretty. I avoided the “big” sins. But did that mean I was so different from those on that route? I had my own issues, yet I somehow felt superior. Of course, that’s how the Pharisees felt too.

I don’t know when my attitude changed. Maybe it was after I served in ministry so long that no story surprised me. Maybe it was when I realized I have the same temptations others do—mine just aren’t always as obvious. Maybe it was after I saw changed life after changed life—recognizing that the end is what matters, not the beginning or even middle of the story.

That’s when I began to feel less like a Pharisee. Jesus told the crowd and the Pharisees who were listening to judge him correctly (John 7:24)—how that rings true in so many ways. Am I judging Jesus correctly, recognizing that he loves and offers his salvation to each person I see? Do I look at people with scorn or with the knowledge that everyone is given a chance at redemption through his blood?

God determines eternity, not me. Therefore let me be determined to do my part so that everyone has a chance to find out about his grace.

Originally published on August 6, 2017 in The Lookout.

Photo by James Pond on Unsplash

For almost 4 years I had the privilege & challenge of writing a weekly editorial for The Lookout, a Christian living & devotional magazine. As I ended my tenure there, the timing fell on a series we developed about Jesus' encounters with people and what we can learn from his actions and words. I enjoyed writing these last editorials. I hope you enjoy reading them. Others in this series: round 1, round 3, and round 4.

Water—there’s something about it that fascinates me. Nature draws my mind to God, water especially. It causes me to reflect upon the Lord. When I am by an ocean, the magnitude of God’s power overwhelms me. When I glimpse a waterfall, his grandeur is showered upon my soul. When I am by a stream, his peace, like a river, attendeth my way.

It’s no wonder then that John 4 catches my eye. Jesus, God incarnate, approached a woman—that’s intriguing and relates to me. And where else but by some water—now you’ve got my full attention.

What can I learn from this ancient encounter? There are many things to glean, but here’s where I land today:

No matter how long I’ve lived, no matter what I’ve done, no matter where I am at this point in the game, I’ve discovered—I’m always thirsty.

Aren’t you?

Maybe it’s thirst for that next experience, to have fun, to see places, to try new things. Maybe it’s thirst for that next accomplishment, a goal met, an award received, an item checked off the chart. Maybe it’s thirst for the next thing, the new gadget to get, the new wardrobe to wear, the new car to drive, the new house to own. Maybe it’s thirst for that next relationship, hoping to find one true friend, find the person to marry, have a few children, get grandkids.

Yet no matter how many of these next things we pursue and conquer, we still get thirsty again. Nothing quite satisfies for long.

I don’t think it’s supposed to.

How can we find contentment? How can we stop comparing? How can we feel quenched in our spirits so that we stop looking for what’s next?

“Where can you get this living water?” (John 4:11).

We know the answer, deep in our souls. Let’s reread John 4 and apply it to ourselves right now, right where we are, just as we are looking for what’s next. Let’s turn to the living water and never thirst again.

Originally published on July 30, 2017 in The Lookout.

Working with this Scripture text also inspired some Sunday teaching at Echo Church.

For almost 4 years I had the privilege & challenge of writing a weekly editorial for The Lookout, a Christian living & devotional magazine. As I ended my tenure there, the timing fell on a series we developed about Jesus' encounters with people and what we can learn from his actions and words. I enjoyed writing these last editorials. I hope you enjoy reading them. Others in this series: round 2, round 3, and round 4.

This week we begin a four-part series looking at four different people (or groups of people) Jesus encountered. Each Scripture text comes from the book of John. As I have discovered before in this job as editor, when I read what our authors create, I gain new perspective on familiar stories.

For instance, how easily do you rattle off John 3:16? It’s the first verse many of us memorized as kids; we’ve heard it so many times by now it may have lost meaning. But let’s take time this week to look at the entire John 3 scenario anew:

A Pharisee, a member of a group who openly debated and ridiculed a new rabbi in town, sensed there was more to Jesus than mere teacher. Possibly fearing for his reputation, Nicodemus crept out into the night to seek an audience with this man of God. Jesus spoke salvific words about newness and life and a redemption no one could yet fathom; he called Nicodemus into the light.

Isn’t this story indicative of us all? We’re there in the dark, can’t sleep, thinking too much about the unknown, grappling with our current situation. There’s got to be more that we haven’t figured out yet. We come up with a plan to seek out the truth, perhaps a little bit on the sly to protect our reputation. We must know—is this Jesus everything he claims to be? Or is he another dead end, false hope masquerading, mere disappointment?

Yet when we encounter Jesus, he opens his heart and pours into our own. His words hold power, and they never fail. Through time, through testing, through mountains and valleys, he remains consistent.

He brings us into the light.

There’s all kinds of darkness we can wander into, wallow in, and weep through in fear and loneliness. But we don’t have to stay there. We have one who offers hope, who offers salvation, who offers to shine a light, illuminating all that keeps us isolated.

Go ahead. Take a step. Live by his truth and come into the light (John 3:21).

Originally published on July 23, 2017 in The Lookout.