Time to BE THE CHURCH!

A horse named Whiskey

Ultimately we have to decide. That is what it is all about…deciding. Life consists of an endless number of choices. Good one’s, bad one’s, some that matter, and some that don’t. Those choices and decisions dictate what we are. Think about it like this, it is a decision that makes you “incarcerated”. It is a decision that makes you “divorced”. It is a decision that makes you a hero or a zero. That is why there is so much power in the capacity to select.

A few years ago, Stacey and I hosted a married couple’s retreat that would ultimately end up at a horseback ride along the Arkansas River. We all had looked forward to the ride, it would be a sun set ride with our sweet hearts on back of some beautiful gentle animals... so we thought. We got to the riding stables and discovered that we had more riders than they had gentle animals. What I mean is they had plenty of horses but they didn’t have enough “good” horses for us. The owner said that since I was the leader I would have to ride one of their less desirable horses (how does that work?). He took me to a pen that held a hodge podge of different colored and sized horses. They all looked at me through the fence like a pit bull looks at a Chihuahua. The owner explained I could decide between them which one I wanted. He went on the give their names and along with their names he would give their disposition. “This is Red, he throws people, this is lightening, he will take off running and you can’t stop him.” All I could think of was “oh crap!”. I even asked if I could walk, but the answer from the crowd of supporters was “No.” Finally he told me of one horse that seemed the lesser of the several evils, his name was Whiskey (and believe me at this point I needed a drink), the owner explained Whiskey was a “biter”. So my choices were to get thrown, stomped, run off with or bitten. I chose bitten. To be totally honest here, I have only ridden one other horse in my life up to this point and it was connected to a merry go round type of thing at the State Fair, so by no stretch of the imagination am I a seasoned rider and how I got selected for this mission I will never know. Life is like that, there are times you have to decide even when the variables are not fair. So Whiskey and I set out for an epic ride, I felt like the ride of my life (or should I say the ride for my life). We hadn’t gotten far before I was faced with the reality of Whiskey’s character defect in the area of biting. We were on the trail and Whiskey wanted to stop and eat a little grass, I thought “no problem, if his mouth is full of grass he won’t be so tempted to fill it with my leg.” But our guide didn’t want the horses to eat along the way, so I was asked to pull up on the reigns and get Whiskey to move along. That is when it all went wrong. From that point on I realized I had a horse that was kin to a psycho path. Immediately he was able to turn his head almost full around and look me in the eye (like the Exorcist) with an anger that a horse should be incapable of. After that, at every opportunity he would turn his head and bite my calf. The pain of a horse bite can only be understood by clamping a peace of your skin in a vice until it is bleeding and bruised. Up to this point I have tried to “whisper” to Whiskey and be nothing but kind but by the second bite all the kindness was over. But what was I going to do? I was helpless to do anything to my torturer. Then the Holy Spirit (I think it was Him) opened my eyes to something that just might work. Now what I am about to tell you I have never shared with anyone in my life. The very next time Whiskey turned to bite my leg (which at this point was red and throbbing) I did something unspeakable…I poked him in the eye. Yep I did, right in that big brown (evil) eye I stuck my finger in it. I could immediately see the shock in is horse face. He couldn’t believe it as he looked at me through his one good eye I could tell I had gotten through. Then I whispered in his ears “There is more where that came from”! Sure enough he tried it again and again I poked him in the eye. I know right now some of you animal lovers are going “Oh how cruel”, I have to say to you GET OVER IT, this horse was evil. I would have driven him to the glue factory myself that day! It is interesting that later Whiskey tried to bite me on my other leg and I reminded him with my finger he had an eye on that side of his head too. By this time both of his eyes were watering and both of my legs were red but some how Whisky and I came to an agreement. You don’t bite my leg and I won’t poke you in the eye, simple as that. The remainder of the ride was less eventful. I learned something that day about choices. Sometimes you don’t get to pick between better and best, sometimes it is between being thrown or being bitten, but having said that even with those variables God will provide a way. So remember when in life you have to ride a horse named Whiskey you might have to poke him in they eye to stop the biting.

“No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.” 1 Corinthians 10:13 NIV

Jesus is my homeboy?

Have you read 1 & 2 Corinthians lately? What did the church at Corinth look like? I know you have had the illusion that Corinth was a super spiritual church filled with fire breathing believers doing miraculous things. For some strange reason we have concluded that if this church is mentioned in the Bible it must be a model for behavior. Truth is Corinth was a far cry from a spiritual Meca. One indication is almost every chapter of both letters we have that Paul wrote to this church contains a rebuke of some sort. These charges range from people denying the resurrection to discrediting the Apostle himself as being a good source for guidance! At one point Paul has to point out that a man sleeping with his dad’s wife isn’t something to brag about. Corinth was more like a bar filled with drunk patrons trying to figure out the Bible. It would be like waiting until happy hour at your local bar and starting a Bible study then and there. To put this church in contemporary terms, on any give Sunday if you were to visit you might be greeted by a biker dude with a beer in his hand in an insulated sleeve that reads “Jesus is my homeboy,” or you could be met at the door by one of the community prostitutes brandishing a cross tattoo on the massive amount of chest showing from her low cut top. At this point you might be thinking that I am about to drop the judgment hammer on this community of excons and alcoholics. You would be wrong. I admire this church, and the bold vision of its pastor. Imagine presenting Jesus among those who you would expect least likely to respond to Him only to discover that they are ready for life change. Corinth is a place where people didn’t have to change to attend but were allowed to come as they were and change after they belonged.

Paul spends the bulk of his written words correcting the broken behavior of these people but you can tell from every stroke of his pen and every sigh of his spirit he loved them. They are rebels, cowboys, and renegades but they are also people who God loves. It is no accident that in this community so many spiritual abilities are spoken of, after all God was entrenched in a serious battle where Satan had a great strong hold. If this gang of brutes were captured by the Truth it would make any place unsafe for the enemy.

Corinth seems to have a knack for taking the sacred and making it into a party. What they didn’t know about religion they tried to fill in with revelry. I don’t mean to down play the seriousness of sin but it is almost humorous to think that you are going to have to tell people that the Lord’s Supper isn’t an excuse to get drunk. Amazingly enough it is in the eleventh chapter of 1 Corinthians Paul has to do just that. Not only does he have to let them know that the Lord’s Supper isn’t a tailgate party but that the people who are in need are something we can’t ignore. It is refreshing to consider a church that isn’t locked in a battle till the death over paving the parking lot, or choosing paint colors for the lobby. I think it is very cool to consider having to tell the people you are reaching that fellowship doesn’t mean bringing a keg.

This weekend we are going to learn from the Pastor of this mob how we should observe The Lord's Supper. It is going to be interesting.

Times, directions, Podcast? mercyscross.com