Anger

Recently, Google Maps did something that threw me off. When I log in with my location and destination, it will give me a list of steps. But after I got lost during a day trip this summer, I realized that as part of the list, Google gives you a general statement about what to do. Unless you click on the arrow to the right, you won't see the specific steps that dovetail into the general instruction.

For example, it might say, "Get on I-75 and follow it to the Georgia state line." But unless you click on the arrow, you'll miss the list underneath, which describes how to get to I-75 from your home and which highways will lead you around Tennessee before you jump back on to I-75 and hit the Georgia state line. If you don't click on that arrow, you might get to the Georgia state line -- but if you've never made the trip before, following the general instruction might actually get you lost.

I was thinking about this today, because I've been struggling with two Scripture verses -- Ephesians 4:26-27.

"'In your anger do not sin^': Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold."

My dear friend Jason, who lives in Wales, sent that one in a tweet to me yesterday afternoon. It stopped me cold, and I replied to him that it was a great reminder. However, I said, I honestly didn't know the difference between "sinful anger" and "righteous anger."

What I meant by that was ... are there times when it's okay to be angry? The Bible verse doesn't address it. The verse also doesn't go into detail about HOW you're supposed to get PAST that all-consuming emotion. 

In short, this Bible verse is a "general instruction" on Google Maps.

This bothered me into the evening, and when I woke this morning, this was still on my mind. "How am I supposed to NOT sin when I am angry? Is anger sin?" 

I realized that to get to the answer, I have to do what I do with Google Maps -- click the arrow to get the specific instructions. And how do you go about that? By looking at verses in the Bible that pertain to anger.

Here's what I found, and if you also struggle with "sinning in your anger," I hope it helps:

1. Anger is not sin. If you dissect the verse, the verse does NOT say, "If you are angry, you are sinning." The verse says, "In your anger, do not sin." And how do we know that anger is not sin? Because God gets angry, too. God is holy and pure. There are countless instances in the Bible (heck, even atheists can cite them, and they do so vociferously) when God gets angry -- all the way back to the Garden of Eden, through Noah, through the 10 plagues in Egypt, through taking the Israelites to Babylon for 70 years ... you get the idea. Even Jesus got angry -- remember the scene where He overthrew the tables in the Temple with a whip? Check out that anger. Countless times. COUNTLESS TIMES that God gets angry. If God is holy and is without sin and He gets angry, then we know that anger is not sin.

2. Figure out why you are angry. In a moment of anger, stop and ask yourself the root cause for the anger. Sometimes anger is born out of something we ARE doing that is WRONG. I see this all the time with people who are very prideful. If you've ever called out a prideful person, watch them take vengeance swiftly. But then there are other times when our anger is justified. I get angry when I see people on Twitter deliberately misleading others with the "Prosperity Gospel" philosophy. (That's for another blog entry, but let's just leave it here that I get irate.) I get angry when someone runs a red light at top speed, and an old man was about to cross the street right before the car whizzed through. I get angry at political opponents when I sense that social justice is at stake. I get angry at situations like the case of Jerry Sandusky at Penn State University. Make a list of what makes you angry. You will be able to see that there are times when you are angry for really good reasons. This is the anger to which the Bible verse is referring. You are angry for a good cause, but then, the verse says, do not sin in your anger.

Now. How do you do that? Anger is such a forceful emotion. In the hands of a human being, anger can become unmanageable, and the results can be disastrous (not God, whose anger is always carried out in pure ways).

This is where we have to "click on the arrow," i.e., look at other Bible verses and references, to understand how we can be angry and still not sin.

What I didn't know until this morning was that Ephesians 4:26 actually isn't an original thought. The phrase, "In your anger, do not sin," is a quote -- it's quoting Psalm 4:4!

"Be angry, and do not sin. Meditate within your heart on your bed, and be still." 

Wow -- now look at that. The Bible says, "Be angry." Be angry! It's instructing us to be angry if our anger has a righteous reason.

And the second part of the verse is what we just did -- we figured out why we were angry by meditating on the root cause of the anger. That was the first step to not sinning.

So now you know the root cause of why you're angry. But what next? Just knowing the cause may not be enough to stop you from sinning. Let's look at a few real-life examples to drill this down. I'll list the situation, the "sinful response," and the "righteous response."To make this easy, we'll look at some things that make me angry. I'm sure you have your own list, but maybe some of ours will match:

Real Life Anger #1: Someone bullies someone else on Facebook for a political reason.
Sinful Response: Jump into the middle of the debate and launch into personal attacks about the bully and why the bully doesn't understand the situation. 
Righteous Response: Hide the post from the Facebook timeline and reach out to the person who has been bullied on Facebook Private Messages to let them know you support them. Ask what you can do to help them have a better day. And if you feel you need to set the bully straight, reach out to THEM on Facebook PM and express that you muted the conversation because you felt it was not edifying. (Note, you can only do this last thing with other Christians. We are responsible to each other to build each other up, but when dealing with non-believers, we are to care for them as wayward lambs. That's for another blog post, though. :-P)

Real Life Anger #2: Abortion makes you see red.
Sinful Response: Judge the women who are having abortions. Picket abortion clinics with hateful signs. Tell people who are having abortions that they're committing murder and are going to Hell. Hand them a tract on Psalm 139 and condescendingly tell them that you'll pray for them. (That's what I call a passive-aggressive sinful response.)
Righteous Response: Pray for the teenage girls and women who are confused and are in a sea of difficulty, confusion, fear and hurt. Volunteer at a Pro Life clinic, where these women receive free medical care during their pregnancies. Collect baby supplies for indigent women. My church does a really cool thing once a year where we collect baby bottles for a few weeks and fill them with money and change, then deliver all of the bottles to a place like this as a fundraiser. Do you know how expensive formula is? Diapers? Do a good deed and set aside tithe money to donate these items to a local charity that serves women in need or to a homeless shelter.

Real Life Anger #3: A driver in a giant red pickup truck that's the size of a Transformer rides your bumper and flashes its beams at you on a two-lane winding road with no street lights at 10 p.m. And it's snowing. Oh gosh, now it just turned to sleet. And your kid is sleeping in the back seat.
Sinful Response:  Slam on your brakes to get the guy to back off. Give him the finger. Scream curses. Slow your speed to 15 miles per hour on the stretches with a double line so that he can't pass you and will be stuck going the pace of a turtle. (Yes, I have done all of these things, numerous times.)
Righteous Response: Flip your mirrors so that the headlights won't blind you and so that your peace will not be disturbed. Additionally, when a tailgater notices that you've flipped the mirror, he or she usually backs off. There's no point tailgating somebody who can't see you in the rear-view mirror, and you've just taken the fire out of what they're doing. Continue on as if the driver is not behind you and pray for God's protection until you get to your destination. Keep an eye out for police officers. In one situation, I had a tailgater on a Sunday morning who, for whatever reason, decided to bully me even when there were four lanes and he could easily pass me. I have no idea what started it. Then I saw two police cars parked on the shoulder. So I slowed down, put on my blinker, and pulled up behind the cruisers and got out of the car, while the driver gunned his accelerator and sped off. I walked up to the police officer in his car, who now was looking at me like I had just pulled HIM over, and explained that I'd been tailgated and bulled for about five miles by the driver who had just fled the scene. Unfortunately, the police had parked on the county line and told me that they would have to radio ahead for an officer from another county to pursue the driver. Although I didn't see justice that day, I was grateful that my cooler head prevailed. I got back in my car and drove to church -- stress-free and with a smile on my face.

Do you see how you can be angry but not sin in your anger? 

If you hit a Bible verse that stumps you, just think about the Google Maps analogy. Pause and look for footnotes in your Bible that explain the context behind the verse. Sometimes it's easy, like this morning, when I saw a footnote that led me back to Psalm 4:4. Sometimes you'll have to do some digging. But the bottom line is, anytime spent in the Word is not wasted time. God will honor your efforts with His wisdom spoken to your heart ... and you will have the specific directions to answer your problem that you might not have had if you'd stuck with the "general advice" in one verse.





 

Mean Storm Waves and A Creature on the Water

So you're discouraged. Something in your life is eating at you, gnawing at your soul, keeping you up at night. If you've dealt with me on Twitter, you're well aware of my penchant for insomnia, and once I get going in the middle of the night about a problem, all bets are off on when (or if ) I'm going to fall asleep again.

If this is you, too, then I have a story for you ... the story about mean storm waves and a creature on the water.

The solution to your problem -- to every problem -- boils down to one word.
But before I give you that word, let's go through the tale. You will know this story already, but stay with me:


Picture guys in a boat on an open sea, and a storm sweeps up unexpectedly. The waves are terrifying and enormous and are overtaking the vessel.

Just when they think all hope is lost and that they will sink to their deaths, a figure appears on the water. It is bright and white, and light emanates from it. It moves across the waves, not flinching despite the sea's tumult. But the men can't make it out.

Finally, as it gets closer, they see this light is actually a man.

And they cry out in fear, thinking it's a ghost.

The man says, "Don't be afraid! It's me."

One of the guys in the boat is brash and strong. He's usually not afraid of anything and charges ahead into things without thinking. So he says to this ghostly looking creature, "If it's you, tell me to come out to you on the water."

And the creature says, "Come on out."

While the waves still press on the tottering boat, this guy puts a foot over the edge and into the water.

He is surprised when the sole of his foot feels like it has just hit solid wood, just like a floor. So he puts the other foot out, and to his astonishment, he stands up straight and doesn't sink. He believes the "creature" is now his buddy, so he walks towards him while the waves continue to crash and churn.

But just as he gets to within an arm's grasp of his friend's hand, his peripheral vision catches the waves.

See, although his friend has made it possible to walk on the sea as if it's dry land, the waves are still coming. And they're tall. And they're mean. And they're evil. And they're ominous. And they're freakin' terrifying.

Suddenly, the man is no longer focused on his friend, but he's now focusing on the waves -- and his fear takes over. The water beneath him becomes water again, and he starts to sink.

He screams, "Lord, save me!"

And his friend, Jesus, reaches over and grabs him and says, "Oh you. You have so little faith. Why did you doubt?"

Now what does this story have to do with your situation?

Everything.

The "waves" are your situation -- whatever it is that's keeping you up at night -- an unforgiving person, a divorce, a death, money problems -- what's your wave?

Sometimes you trust God and feel like you're walking on solid ground through the stormy sea. But then sometimes, like our guy in the story (by the way, his name if you don't know it was Peter), you start looking at those waves in spite of how God has helped you in the past.

Can waves be reasoned with? Can waves be controlled? Can waves be convinced to stop their attack?
You can't control the waves.

You can control your reaction to the waves.

The one word that will help you through all of this is:

Jesus.

Are you willing to call on His name to see you through this?

The Story of Job, Doubt, Unbelief and Faith

A crisp early morning breeze, unseasonal for June in Kentucky, jarred slumber, and a red Kentucky cardinal, his pre-sunrise song unabated, refused to let me return to my dreams.

It's one of those mornings where the doubts with which I have wrestled for the past four years nag me, much like the bird's ardent chirping.

And what is it that I can't get out of my mind?

The story of Job.

This is a blog entry I have wanted to write for at least three years. But until this morning, the ruminations haven't crystallized. Just as the soft sunlight broke through the nighttime shadows, the resolution to this silent, ongoing debate with myself finally illuminated my heart's recesses.

But let me rewind and give you the back story.

This whole thing first started when I was in my early 20s, with one of those late-night conversations that never leaves your consciousness and stays with you throughout the years.

I have a brilliant younger brother, four years my junior. Usually the older sibling is the one to whom the younger must aspire. In our case, I was the underachiever in the family, bringing home report cards filled with mostly B-grade averages (with a great deal of studying and effort). He was the child who could ace a test without barely cracking a book open and sailed through school at a 4.0. At age 13, he hacked into Syracuse University's IT system and changed students' grades -- and those were the days before we had an Internet.

While I was superficially focused on making the cheerleading squad or playing pranks on my college campus, he was a diligent, deep-thinking philosophy major. He studied ancient Greek, delved into the underpinnings of C.S. Lewis's complex works and successfully challenged the establishment everywhere he went.

Now I tell you all of this about my brother, because I need you to understand why and how this late-night conversation was so poignant, and continued to be poignant many years after the fact. A debate with my brother on any subject meant entering into a decision to challenge one's long-held beliefs and perceptions.

In short, nothing about these conversations was ever comfortable.

Basically, he vociferously made the argument that we really didn't know if certain stories in the Bible were about real living, breathing human beings ... or if they were Jewish folklore, cobbled together as metaphors and parables to help the ancients grasp the meaning of life.

At the time, I was aghast at the mere suggestion. Not take the Bible literally? How could any believer consider such a thing?

He drilled through the list of names, starting with Adam and Eve ("Really? We all came from these two people?"), moving to Noah ("A flood over the entire Earth?") ... and then he hit Job.

His reasons for Job being just a fable were rooted in the storytelling approach of the book of Job itself ... Satan presents himself to God in the middle of all of the angels, and he and God get into a debate about one guy that God thinks is doing great. Satan says, "If You strip him of all he has, he will curse You."

And you know the rest of the story ... God allows Satan to take everything from Job as a test of his faith, and when Job stays faithful to God, God restores everything to him again, except with more bounty than with which he started.

My brother's point of view was that the book read like a Greek myth -- good versus evil -- and that there was absolutely no proof that a guy like Job ever existed. The basis for the story, he said, was an attempt to help the ancients understand why bad things happen to good people. But it was not to be taken literally. There was no reason, in fact, to take it literally, he said.

Besides -- he asked me -- why was it so important to me to take it literally? Why did it have to be read literally? What was the reason, the drive within me, to insist that Job was a real person who lived and breathed on this earth? Why did I feel I had to cling to the idea that there really was a conversation between Satan and God and that this poor sap was targeted? Why couldn't I just be happy with the idea that Job was a great piece of Jewish literature but was nothing more than folklore?

I have to admit ... I was stumped. And I was bothered. And I didn't know why I was bothered. I couldn't get my head around my own strong desire to want this story to be true, to be literal, to be an actual event.

And for the next 26 years, this conversation ate at me.

Until this morning at 4 a.m.

All of it clicked together like a World War II code cracking tumbler, the mosaic pieces of my bewilderment suddenly falling together into a complete picture and making sense.

(Usually on this blog, I would break here and tell you to tune in tomorrow for the rest of the story ... but this has been pressing on me so hard for the past three-and-a-half hours that I'm just going to keep writing here ... and if you want to break off here and return to it later, you can. :-)

See, at the time that this conversation took place in my life, I had experienced no hardship. None. I had lacked for nothing in my childhood and had been raised by two God-fearing, loving parents. I hadn't been touched by any sickness or tragedy. The story of Job was just that -- a story -- to read with interest and curiosity.

And for a long time in my life, that was the case. I did have some hardships, don't get me wrong ... my father died when I was 26, which was devastating ... and I watched my former husband go to war in Iraq when I was three weeks out of a C-section with a colicky newborn, following one of the worst pregnancies known to women ... and during my marriage, I went through some horrible illnesses. And all of those life events tested me at various stages.

But even at that, I can honestly say that I didn't know hardship -- really know hardship.

Four years ago, all of that changed, however.

I lost everything.

I won't go into detail, because many of my readers already know the story and it's too long for this blog entry's purposes, anyway.

But let's just use the Cliffs Notes version and say again:

I lost everything, including my health, to the extreme where at one point I thought I only had a few months left to live.

It was then that the first piece of my mosaic came into focus.

The reason I wanted the story of Job to be true -- even when I was at a point in life when nothing bad had happened to me yet -- was that I wanted to be able to know that someone else had lived and experienced the worst and still came through it with blessings for God on his lips and blessings from God after it was over. For me, it was crucial for this to be a true story, because I needed the assurance that if the worst ever came to my door, I had a real life person to look to as an example of how to handle it.

In short, I needed Job to be a real guy, for my own emotional coping strategy when the going got tough.

For a while, when I would think back to the conversation with my brother, I thought it was as simple as that ... my emotional needs being met by the truth of the story.

But this morning, I realized it was so much more.

Job's story also illustrates that God is involved in the lives of each and every person. When bad things happen to us, we're not on a limb alone. I needed the story to be true, because I needed to know that God knew about each plight. We are not isolated. He is with us. And because of the promise of Isaiah 7:14 and Matthew 1:23 (the birth of "Immanuel," which means "God with us") and the promise of John 14:16-17 (the coming of the Comforter), we are further assured that just as God was involved in the events of Job's life, so is He in ours.

As for my brother's argument that these stories could be fables ... I look to Hebrews 11, which we know as "The Faith Chapter." If you haven't read it, you should. It details the ancients whose stories of faith and trust are examples for us in our own walks. I don't think that the author would have listed each of these individuals if they hadn't lived. And in Matthew 1, we have the genealogy of Jesus, which provides the lineage that traces His origins ... to Adam and Eve and even Noah.

Is Job mentioned in either of these passages? No, he is not. That said, I think this establishes a Scriptural pattern of identifying these people in the stories of old as real individuals ... and if Job's story was important enough to be included among the writings of the Old Testament, I am confident he existed, too.

There are readers of this blog who may point out to me that I am a supporter of the theory of evolution and that I have made the argument that it is not mutually exclusive from the story of the Creation in Genesis. For more on that, we need another blog entry, but my reason in bringing it out is that you may argue with me, "You can't cherry pick which stories in the Bible are true and which aren't. You can't say you take one thing literally and another not so literally."

But I would say that you can't put God in a box, nor can you do that with the Bible. I think there are some instances in the Bible where you have to read with the understanding that these were ancient people communicating ancient happenings in the way they understood them. With something like creation, where they did not have the benefits of scientific knowledge, the story would be written in the way they would be able to communicate it best. With something like a story about an individual's life, however, that is pretty straight-forward. You wouldn't need the benefit of science to grasp it or understand it, which is why I think it can be taken literally. My point is that we would have to be very short-sighted to demand that all of the Bible be taken literally or all of the Bible be taken as fable or folklore. If the Bible is God-inspired, then it can be read with wisdom, inspired by God. And for that, we simply need faith to ask Him to reveal His mysteries to us as we read it.

Finally, there is one final (and most important) reason that I believe Job to be a literal story:

It is a story of hope.

It is a story of one man's destitution and loss following a life of great blessing. And it is a story of redemption, faith, courage, honor ... and blessing following his refusal to curse God in spite of all that had happened to him.

During the past four years of my arduous personal journey, I have repeatedly turned to the story of Job as a lifeline to get through. I have repeatedly relied on his example as my predecessor for how I should respond to hardship. I have repeatedly realized that if one person can go through what he did, then my sufferings can also be endured. And I have repeatedly realized that with his faith and trust, God smiled ... and God smiled on him and blessed him and more than repaid what had been lost because of Job's persistent love and hope in Him.

Hardship is a part of life, and life isn't fair.

But God is God.

God is on His throne, and He sees the evil that is done to His children.

And if we take the story of Job literally ... if we hold on to Job's example as one to which we can aspire ... if we grasp firmly the faith and love in God as Job did ... God will give us grace, peace, assurance, but most importantly, His love ... to carry us through.










 

Burned Out and Tired

I really have to apologize to people who check my blogs regularly for more content, because for the past 6 weeks or so, I have not written one word on any of them.

The reason is that during October, I just hit the wall. I had a couple of life-altering experiences that threw me under the bus.

We have to take life as it comes, but when it hits us in the chin, gut and under the belt, sometimes it's just enough if we can keep going with our required duties day by day until we catch our breath again from the sheer shock of all of it.

Currently I am dog paddling with my writing projects for my paying magazine assignments.
I hope the creative muse will strike me again soon so that I can pick up where I left off on the tales I want to finish.

But for now, all energy and focus is devoted elsewhere, and unfortunately, all creativity for the "fun writing" has been zapped.

I hope to be back at it all soon. Thanks to all of you for caring enough to keep checking.

Andy the Businessman

Part one of this story series.

(Research for this story was provided by "Cast Your Nets: Fishing at the Time of Jesus," by Elizabeth McNamer at http://www.americancatholic.org/newsletters/sfs/an0704.asp)


When I was 12, a teacher assigned a family tree project. We were to interview our grandparents about their memories and get any information they could recall about ancestors.

My paternal grandfather, who I called, "Pop," had immigrated from Newfoundland to New England in the 1920s. I knew he'd been in the British Navy in World War I. And I knew he loved the sea. But other than that, I had nothing.

I remember sitting at a breakfast room table, notebook paper at the ready, and calling Pop to find out about the family's past.

"What did your father do?" I asked Pop.

"He was a fisherman." Pop replied shortly in a raspy voice.

I wrote that down.

"And do you know what his father did, my great-great grandfather?"

"He was a fisherman," Pop replied.

"OK. Well, this is going back a lot, but what about my great-great-great grandfather?"

"He was a fisherman."

My dad, who was listening on another line, chuckled when he heard me sigh.

"Pop, was my great-great-great-great grandfather a fisherman?"

"Yes. He was a fisherman."

We went on like this a few more times until Pop finally said, "Well, I don't know that far back, but I'm pretty sure that everyone else was a fisherman."

Today, as I read the story about Andy's life before he met Jesus, I can't help but recall that long-ago conversation with Pop.

See, Andy's family was in the fishing business, too. Now you might have heard sermons at your church about the lowly lives of fishermen. More than once, I've heard pastors wax poetically about Jesus hanging out with the stinky smelly men of the sea and how great it was that He gave them His attention.

But that description, quite frankly, is condescendingly incorrect.

In fact, fishermen were integral to the economy in First Century Palestine. And the men who owned fishing operations were savvy and successful businessmen. Think of them as active Chamber of Commerce members or pillars of your local community.

Consider the skills that the average Galilean fisherman needed. They weren't just sitting around in a boat. They had to be skilled at marketing their product. Israel's population at the time was about 500,000, and fish was a staple food. Not only that, dried fish from the Sea of Galilee was a "gourmet" menu item for Roman aristocracy. And in Jerusalem, fish was in high demand during religious festivals and seasons. So this required the fishermen to travel a lot. 

And with travel during the era of the Roman Empire came along the need to know more than one language. The native tongue would have been Aramaic. But to converse with those who were buying the fish? You would've needed to know other languages like Hebrew, Greek ... and Latin, if they were selling to the Romans.

Are you getting the picture?

Andy was no dummy.

Fishing business owners also had to be skilled organizers in the running of their operations. They hired sailors and other fishermen to do labor (fish, mend nets, count fish). They were engaged in legal partnerships with each other. They had to maintain their equipment (nets and boats), deal with tax collectors and be skilled bargainers with their workers and buyers alike.

Andy and his brother Pete were in a partnership with two other guys, Jim and John, and their father, Zeb (a really wealthy fish business owner).

And it is against this highly successful backdrop of the business world that Jesus entered the picture and met Andy for the first time.

Tune in for part 2 of our tale ...

A New Story Series for my Buddy

A dear friend of more than 20 years has struggled with his own faith questions and agnosticism.

Recently, he shared, someone told him that he was a lot like the disciple Andrew.

Now this really bugged him.

The person told him that Andrew "was the guy who made things happen." But to my friend, this characterization smacked of someone who is always hanging back, letting other people shine in the sun and never really getting any acknowledgement for their hard work, except for an occasional nod or pat on the back for being a good organizer.

He asked me what I knew about Andrew. Without knowing what he'd already been told, I stupidly piped, "Oh, he was the disciple who worked behind the scenes that no one really noticed."

Insert foot in mouth.

Now in the mornings after my child leaves for school, I take some time for quiet. This morning I felt led not to pray ... but to just sit and read. So I opened my Bible haphazardly and who do you think was right on the page in front of me?

That's right.

Andrew.

I read the story and then decided to dig some more. And I read another story. And another. And another.

Suddenly, a picture came together about who Andrew really was, and it was not at all like the original description I'd given my friend.

So for the benefit of my friend ... and for any of you who may feel like you are an insignificant player in the grand scheme that God has for the world ... tomorrow we'll start a new blog series ....

.... about a guy named Andy.

Hope you'll check it out.

Until then,
Heidi

A Warning Against Hypocrisy

When I was 16, I memorized the book of Matthew.

I know.

I wasn't just a nerdy kid. I was a nerdy kid with a Bible.

I did this extracurricular activity called, "Bible Bowl." It was like a quiz game, except all questions were centered on the exact wording of verses throughout the book of Matthew. Our little team, called the "Syracuse Stompers," was so good that we placed second in a "championship" involving three finalist teams drawing from the Northeast United States.

Just so that you have the full picture of what was involved ... when I say I memorized Matthew, that means not only did I know the verses. I also could answer any question, phrased in any way. And sometimes, I knew the answer to a question before half of the question had left the moderator's lips.

For example, "In Matthew 5:5, what will ..."

BUZZ!

"Yes, Syracuse, player 2, what is the answer?"

 "They will inherit the earth."

Now look it up if you want to know what I was answering.

I was a maniac.

I was making straight As at school and when I wasn't studying, I was reciting those verses, backwards and forwards. Literally. Backwards and forwards.
 

Now the reason I tell you this little story is to clue you in  ... that when I tell you that I know the book of Matthew ... I know the book of Matthew.

But ironically, it wasn't until this little stunt that Christians across the United States pulled at Chick-fil-A that the words of Matthew chapter 23 really meant something to me.

At the time when I was first memorizing this book of the Bible, I was really stumped by Matthew 23. I knew Jesus was mad. I knew He told off the Pharisees. I knew He thought they were a bunch of stuffed shirts who thought they were better than everybody else.

But until this week, I didn't get -- really didn't get -- the full throttle of His message.

I could quote that chapter here, but you can just look it up at this link if you're interested:

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew%2023&version=NIV

Now. Rewind.

Where did we leave off in our story?

(See part 2 if you haven't read it yet.)


Matt (that is, Matthew), just threw a party for Jesus. Jesus told the Pharisees that He hadn't come for the righteous but for the sinners. And then Matt took off after Jesus and became His disciple and then wrote the book of Matthew.

But let's dissect this.

When you understand how and why Matt was such a scourge on society, you gain a brand new appreciation for Matthew 23.

Look at some of these colorful descriptions that Jesus gives the Pharisees:

"Blind guides!"

"Blind fools!"

"You hypocrites!"

"You are like whitewashed tombs!"

"You snakes!"

"You brood of vipers!"


You know, when you consider the kind of treatment Matt suffered at the hands of righteous people, is it any wonder that he quoted Jesus's harsh judgment against them?

It never hit me until this week how these words of Jesus must have seemed like a balm to Matt's soul. In essence, Jesus stood in the gap between the lost and the righteous. He held up His hand and said, "No more. No more will you stand in the way of people learning about God's love, just because you think they're not good enough. I'm telling you that you're out of line, and those who you would condemn will have a place in the Kingdom, while you'll be on the outside."

Yeah.

Read that chapter again.

Now what does this have to do with the Christians who showed their support for the comments against gay people by patronizing Chick-fil-A?

Everything.

See, when you line up as a force and collectively point your finger of judgment against one group of people, you become a Pharisee. You become a self-appointed judge. You become a wall between that person and the message that Christ loves them, died for them and wants to be in their life. Who is going to listen to you when you try to share the good news that He's there for them? Not one of them. Not one of them will listen or care. Not one of them will give your message any credence. Not one of them will ever want to darken the door of your church or shake your hand in the pew.

Not one.

I wouldn't.

Some of you might say to me, "Heidi, are you saying that you support a gay lifestyle? Aren't we told to go and sin no more? Aren't we told that we are not to sin 'that grace may abound?'"

How are these people going to even learn about grace when you've collectively condemned them? How are they going to want to hear about it?

See, here's the thing:

I have to worry about my own soul. I have to worry that I do not sin "that grace may abound."

That means my Achilles heel has to be dealt with: My temper. It's not pretty. It's my cross. It's what I have to crucify daily. And I don't always succeed.

Should I be allowed to patronize Chick-fil-A, given that I lose my temper?

OK, how about this?

What about the men who went to Chick-fil-A, to collectively voice their disapproval against gay people -- who are also married and flirt with me in private messages on Twitter?

Yeah. They do that. And don't make me name you, because I WILL.

Now.

What about those who went to Chick-fil-A who cheated on their student exams?

What about those who went to Chick-fil-A who have an addiction ... alcohol, drugs, porn?

What about those who went to Chick-fil-A who cheat on their spouses? Or abuse their spouses?

What about those who went to Chick-fil-A who gossip and spread falsehoods about other people?

What about those who went to Chick-fil-A who are jealous and covet what their friends have?

Should I continue?

What about those who went to Chick-fil-A who are just so self-righteous that they think their sins are less than others, so they get a pass to be in the Christian Club?

You throw a stone, I'll hit you with your own boulder.

None of y'all are perfect.

There is only One who was perfect, and He's the only One who has the excuse to throw stones.

Now here is the good news:

Christ died for all men.

All men.

ALL. MEN.

That includes the gay community. He didn't come to earth and say, "Hey, I'm going to be tortured and crucified, but my sacrifice IS ONLY FOR THE HETEROSEXUAL COMMUNITY."

Did He say that?

Show me in the Bible where Jesus said that.

If you can't see your own hypocrisy in this, then we're done here.

But I pray and hope that you'll take a look at Matt. I pray and hope that you'll remember that Matt, just like people in the gay community, was a social outcast in his day. And I pray and hope that you'll remember that Christ's love and grace was extended to Matt, NO MATTER WHAT.

But especially, I pray and hope that all of you will come to your senses and for once in your petty, selfish, hypocritical lives will see your own sins before you judge the sins of others -- and that you will show some grace and love to people who Jesus died for, too.

And now I'll pray for myself, because this little blogging exercise has put me in the judgment seat against you.

And that's not my place to judge you. If I do, I'm no better than you were when you went to Chick-fil-A.