Articles

JESUS, A BANK YOU CAN TRUST

I hate it when this happens. A great analogy I’ve used for years to illustrate a spiritual truth has been ruined in the past two weeks. Thank you, Silicon Valley Bank and Signature Bank: See, I talked about banks when expositing this Scripture. “… nevertheless I am not ashamed: for I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day. (2Ti 1:12). I won’t tax you with any but the bare minimum of the exposition: Apostle Paul endured great suffering and opposition for preaching the Gospel. But, in this scripture, he expresses certainty that he will not lose his faith, his salvation, his soul, his reward, etc. Why? Because all those things of Paul’s were in the care and keeping of Jesus. Jesus was guarding those things of Paul’s. Here’s where the bank illustration came in. I would preach… “This promise of Jesus’ keeping one’s soul, salvation, and reward, only applies to those who surrender their lives, their souls, their hearts, their futures, and themselves to Him. You cannot expect Christ to keep what you have not put in His care. Let’s say you have a million dollars. But you keep it at home. A thief brakes in and steals it or a fire consumes your house and the million with it. Could you go to the bank and say, ‘Do you have my money? Is it safe?’ After taking your name and checking the computer, the response would be, ‘What money? Did you deposit money with us? I don't see that you have an account here.’ ‘No,’ you answer, ‘But did you keep my money safe?’ Ludicrous, I know. Then, I’d tweak the illustration: “Let’s back the story up to before you lost your million dollars. You, worried about a thief stealing or a fire burning up your million, go to the bank to deposit it. You put stacks of money on the counter with ‘I’d like you to keep my million dollars safe.’ The teller is happy to oblige with the smiling, eager manager looking over her shoulder. She counts it. ‘$100,000,’ she announces. The manager frowns. ‘There’s only $100,000 here,’ she repeats. You shake your head affirmatively, ‘Yes, I know. I only want to deposit $100,000 but I want you to protect, keep, and insure my million dollars.’ “The manager steps up to the counter moving the teller aside. ‘But, sir, you have to understand. We can only keep safe what you deposit, what you give us. If you only give us a part of the million dollars we cannot guarantee the safety of your million dollars. You must give us all. Then we can keep it safe for you.’” I ended the illustration there with, “Jesus is like a bank. He can only keep safe what you give Him. And you must give Him all. All your soul. All your life. All your heart. All your… You give Him all, and Jesus, like a bank, will keep it safe. Until, when it will matter most—in eternity.” Jesus is like a bank? My illustration has been shot. Banks have failed. The story now goes like this: You join the run on the bank to withdraw and rescue your deposits, and, if the doors haven’t already been locked and you can get in, you discover your money is gone. Gone up like smoke vanishing in thin air. Wait. The bank illustration isn’t completely unredeemable. Why? Because it is only banks on earth that fail. Go bankrupt. That fail to keep what folks have deposited. There is another bank. Heaven’s bank. It seems Jesus used a bank illustration too: Well, not a bank, exactly. A safe storage. In Bible times wealth consisted largely of precious metals and jewels, clothing (or the material to make it), and food. If you had large quantities of these, it was necessary to find a safe storage for them. But, let’s just call these safe places banks of sorts. Then, let’s note what Jesus said about our using them: “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” (Mat 6:19-21). Jesus makes it clear. There are earthly “banks” and a heavenly bank. Temporal and eternal. On His word, you can rest assured that whatever you deposit in the Bank of Heaven is safe. Yet, that bank works the same as earth’s banks. Heaven’s bank can only keep safe what you deposit, what you surrender, what you commit. Thinking of this Bank of Heaven, knowing, ultimately, Jesus is in charge, we can say Jesus is the Bank. And the One who has given us anything we might deposit. And the Teller who receives it from us. And the Manager who locks it in the vault. And the Government that can and does insure it. And the Dividends on our deposit. Jesus is the Bank. The Bank you can trust. You commit, and He keeps. With banks beginning to fall like dominoes, the question frequently heard asked is, “What is your bank?” I don’t mean to sound inanely shallow or hyper-spiritual, but I will answer. “Jesus. Jesus is my Bank.” That may sound a bit silly, but it sure is reassuring. Because “I am persuaded He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him against that day.” --Pastor Clifford Hurst

WHY THERE ARE NO GOOD STORIES: WAIT THERE IS ONE!

My poor wife. She has to hear my rants. Here is one of my frequent ones: “ 'They’ cannot write a good story anymore whether book or movie. Everything is reduced to the lowest common denominator of crudeness, idiocy, blasphemy, and stupidity. Instead of relying on a good plot, they rely on violence, sex, gore, and the shock of the extreme. And virtue signaling by working in woke-ism in all the places it doesn’t even fit.” I continue with the reason that stories have become such degraded, shoddy, sludge: “They can’t write a good story because they have gotten rid of the basis of a good story—a conflict of right and wrong, good and evil. There is no good and evil in their stories. Thus, they don’t have a real story.” For example, I need only refer to Disney’s Frozen. A positive critique of a movie--whatever the actual words were--used to be something like “the triumph of good over evil.” Frozen’s positive reviews could be summarized in this one, “Courage, positivity, agility.” When I watched it with grandchildren (I believe), I found myself continually muttering through the beard I don’t have, “There’s no conflict between good and evil. The ‘good’ characters aren’t really ‘good’ and the ‘bad’ characters are not really ‘bad.’ You can tell what the conflict of a story is really about by asking, “What is at stake?” In Frozen what is at stake is 1) whether a character would discover who she really was and realize her full potential and 2) whether a character would be courageous or not. Do you see the problem? That could take us down the road to a whole book of discussion. But, to keep my focus, without a clear, objective moral measure of right and wrong, there can be no intriguing conflict. And without intriguing conflict, there can be no plot. And with no plot, no good storytelling—despite Frozen’s success. Its success really had nothing to do with the story it told. Not really. Yes, it takes a clear, objective right and wrong to have conflict whether it be a conflict between a human and God, or between a human and human, or between a human and himself, or between a human and nature—animal, terrain, etc. You get the picture. Oh, wait, modern times have introduced a new conflict—that between a human and a machine, AI. Really, good conflict goes deeper than right and wrong. It goes to WHY there is a right and wrong. To why right and wrong matter: Good stories have always had this: Whether overt or covert, underneath the conflict is wrestling with the two greatest questions of life. Whether one has consciously thought of these, can articulate them, or even denies their validity, these two questions are those with which every human wrestles. And they are beneath the surface in all conflicts of life. Not just the ones in fiction literature. The ones in real life. Here they are: 1) What is the origin, nature, purpose, and destiny of the universe? 2) What is the origin, nature, purpose, and destiny of Me? Good stories are not just about good and evil, but why it all matters. Even when the story is of a man lost in the frozen forests of northern Canada--a conflict between human and nature, the answer to these questions matter. If a man is just a clump of molecules destiny to obliteration, it does not matter if he survives, whether he is rescued or dies. Not really. In fact, if you are a leftist, you may want him to lose. After all, he is chopping down trees for shelter, polluting the air with his campfires, and maybe killing some endangered animals for food. In the modern story, readers may be rooting for him to not make it. You see then, what one sees as good or evil, or, if one does not see anything as good or evil, determines what matters. And what matters is determined by how one answers the above questions. Modern literature/movies, etc., whatever their genre, do not have this wrestling with The questions of life. (Of course, there are always exceptions.) Rather, for a plot, they rely heavily and largely on three things: Discrimination (usually, perceived, inflated, or distorted). Destroying the planet (Where humans are both the sinners and the savior). Discovering you are enough, the be-all, know-all. (Which allows characters to flaunt their aberrant behavior while lauding them for their courage to do so). But they have no basis for even these to matter. The Bible, the greatest story ever, the story of redemption has it all. Good and evil. Conflict. Wrestling with the real questions of life. What a plot. What suspense. And, what denouement. What a conclusion. Whatever you may think of the Bible, its God, or Christianity, you, if you’ve honestly read it, cannot deny it has a story to tell. What a story! A story of good and evil. And what is at stake in that story is not whether or not one will find his courage, but whether or not he will find salvation for his soul. Good stories have good endings. Or sad. How the story of the Bible ends for any reader depends on the reader. You choose how it ends by how you choose to respond. Again, what a Story! The suspense continues. How will it end for you? --Pastor Clifford Hurst

A RANT ON THE WAY TO SENIOR SAINTS BREAKFAST

Yesterday, driving to our Senior Saints breakfast at church, I pretty much lost any of the saint I might have possessed, though, unfortunately, I kept the senior. Why? The litter. We were traversing a road that is a major beltline to our city. The ditches and shoulders of the road were strewn with litter tossed from passing vehicles. Littering upsets me greatly. I claim no righteous reason for that. It may be my OCDness that desires everything to always be in its place, and the side of the road is not trash’s place. It may be my aversion to folk’s laziness that they would not take care of their garbage the way it ought to be. Or to their narcissism evidenced by their thinking only of relieving themselves of their waste and not of their trashing someone’s yard, or the city’s road; or, not thinking that, if that trash ever gets picked up and disposed of, someone else will have to do it. Or, it may simply be because litter ruins the aesthetics of the scenery. Litter is plain ugly. Dirty. Unsightly. But the thing that mostly was riling me was the blatant hypocrisy of the self-righteous leftists, the movers and shakers of the popular post-modernity culture. And their disciples. This I began to spew out to my wife. “Climate activists preach saving our planet from global warming and have successfully indoctrinated a whole generation in our schools, inculcating them to be rabid recyclers. They convinced them we can’t even use straws. Yet, that same generation they have converted into save-the-planet-ideology automatons are the ones who are littering our roads and planet. What hypocrisy! I am condemned for not recycling but they throw all their trash out the window.” I should have stopped there, but I tied it to another hypocrisy of today’s contemporary culture. “They continue to preach we are all racists and need to treat everyone equitably. Okay, right. I agree we should treat everyone equitably. But why are those who are taught to scream racism at everybody and everything so rude? So mannerless. Go out into the service sector. Everywhere, folks who are supposed to be serving you are rude. Devoid of manners. Totally lacking in a show of respect for others. Those in customer service, well, used to serve customers.” Of course, not all are rude. There is some wonderful, well-mannered folk in customer service. But, rudeness and lack of manners are systemic. For all their preaching of treating folks equitably, many folks who are quick to holler, “racism” are mannerless and rude. I concluded my rant with, “With all their teaching about saving the planet and everyone being racist, why don’t they teach students not to litter and teach them some manners.” That question could be answered from many angles, but every one of those involves this; For their beliefs, these see-racism-everywhere-save-the-planet advocates have nothing transcendent upon which to base their sanctimonious sententiousness. I do not have space to flesh that claim out, but, basically, it’s this: If all there is is matter, then, in the end, nothing matters. Or, put another way, if matter is all that matters then nothing matters. Environmentalism tries to make saving the planet matter. But with no basis, it doesn’t matter because it's all matter. So, people litter. Leftists, for questionable motives, try to make all “races” equally matter. But, if all we all are is matter, no race, no one matters. Thus, there is no need to treat one another mannerly. Over and over, because they have no transcendent basis for their ideologies, manufactured moralities, and minus-god religions, their hypocrisy manifests itself. They reveal this hypocrisy by being racist against those they claim are racist. They may protest that it matters that we save a threatened snail. But since all is matter, they show nothing matters when they advocate killing babies in the womb. They cannot live consistently with their beliefs. The bases of their beliefs are untenable. Only Christians can live consistent with their beliefs. The operative word there is “can.” Often, many don’t. But, since their beliefs are based on the transcendent God, His transcendent Word, and, thus, transcendent reasons, there is a basis for consistent living in this world. And because of that, none are better stewards of our planet than true believers in Christ. They do not litter, choke dolphins with straws, or treat anyone, whatever his “race” rudely. They are not hypocrital--though they may go off on an occasional rant against leftists. Oh, and by the way, another Senior Saint coming to breakfast noticed the litter along the same road en route. She didn’t just rant. She said, “It made me want to get out and do something about it. Pick it all up.” That senior had a more saintly reaction than I. ---Pastor Clifford Hurst

A MIGHTY THIN PANCAKE

“It’s a mighty thin pancake that has only one side.”—this, from a former pastor of mine. By no stretch of the imagination am I a cook, but, when our children were small, I used to help fix breakfast for dinner after prayer meetings on Saturday nights. Pancakes were my purview. I probably did not cook them correctly, but the two sides of my pancakes always differed. The side that started topside then flipped and ended against the hotplate was marked by divots from collapsed air bubbles. The other side was smooth. The point is, as different as they might seem, they were each a side of a single pancake. Take either side away and there no longer exists that pancake. Often in matters of truth, if one acknowledges, affirms, and tries to actualize two seemingly opposing truths, tries to life-walk balancing himself with a paradoxical truth in each hand, he is disparagingly accused of walking in the middle of the road. And, his accusers will condescendingly and arrogantly continue, “you know what you find in the middle of the road—road kill.” Many times, I have been charged with this—being a middle-of-the-roader. Of trying to have it both ways. If I protest, “No, I’m trying to be balanced,” the response is a sneer: “ ‘Balance” is just a euphemism for being in the middle of the road, for compromise, for noncommittal vacillation.” “The yellow stripe that marks the center of the road goes right over your road-kill back.” No doubt, there are compromisers who make no clear stand for truth. But this accusatory, platitudinal condemnation is as naïve as it is inaccurate. The truth about Truth is that there are many truths that are paradoxical. One truth seems at odds with another. Yet, both are true. In fact, they are not two different truths, but two sides of a larger truth. To mix in yet another analogy, what is seen as trying to walk the middle of the road is in fact trying to walk the ridge that marks the line where two opposing slopes meet. It is believing both truths, however opposing they may seem, and trying to reconcile them into a way of thinking about them that one can believe them and live them, or perhaps, live with them. Let me give you an example: The Bible teaches clearly that each human is depraved. Fallen. Corrupt. Broken. Twisted. Yet, the Bible also teaches that each human is a God-image bearer, made in the likeness of God. Each human is at the same time capable of unimaginable wickedness and evil (by Jesus’ own words) and capable of the most extraordinary acts of kindness, love, and sacrifice. He is depraved and noble. Broken, yet the highest creation of God. Both these things are true. Each of these truths informs us about humanity. There is a ridge line to walk with the slope of one of these truths on one side and the other on the adjacent one. If you hold to one truth at the denial or ignoring of the other, you will slide down that slope into error and destruction. Either side. To believe humanity is only good and noble leads to horrible errors whether in religion, humanities, or politics. Yet, to believe that humanity is only depraved leads to other destructive beliefs, practices, and treatment of others. There is no space here for practical examples, but you get the picture. Last week I wrote of the Asbury revival. Most folks have responded to that “revival” from either one “side” or the other. Some view it with the assumption that because it isn't happening on their turf, in their tent, it could not be of God. Others, who consider only the sensational and not truth as markers, immediately proclaim it unquestionably of God. Yet, Scripture instructs us to assess moves like Asbury as a pancake of two sides, a ridge with two slopes: One side is “Quench not the Spirit. Despise not prophesyings” And the other, “Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.” (1Th 5:19-21). Every so-called “move of God” we are to be quick to test; we are to practice discernment. Yet, Every so-called “move of God” we are NOT to be quick to quench, despise, or label pseudo. If we approach this revival via only one of these at the expense of the other, we will get things wrong. This is not being middle of the road. This is not compromise. This is not trying to have it both ways. This is walking the ridge between two slopes, not sliding down one or the other. This is realizing a pancake has two sides, examining and exploring each one, and keeping both. And, thus, keeping the pancake intact. Not only is a pancake with only one side mighty thin, but being so thin, it is also easily seen through. Clear through to the self-righteous motives, misguided intents, and petty designs of those who like their pancakes with only one side. --Pastor Clifford Hurst

THE ASBURY RESTAURANT

Truly, I’m grateful for the thought and the expense. But I was left totally unfulfilled, unsatisfied. My wife and I were gifted with a free dinner at a top-rated, acclaimed, expensive restaurant. The kind of place where the refined, cultured, and elite dine. The meal was served with lots of amenities and flourishes and aesthetic presentations including the sprinkles of parsley leaf, but I stared in disbelief at my steak. It was the size of a small medallion. I am one who cannot stand to have the items on my plate touching, their juices and sauces mingling and mixing. No danger that evening. There was an Atlantic of a distance between the few items on the plate. The portion of potatoes was meager, the smallest of dollops. I can’t remember if the other vegetable was green beans or asparagus, but there were but a few sprigs of even that. As we left the restaurant, I was yet hungry. In a sense, that was the best the world of vogue restaurants could offer. Five stars. Yet, I was unsatisfied. The Asbury Revival 2023 is evidence of this very reaction. The apostles of humanism in our universities have cooked up their post-modernity dishes of woke-ism, socialism, and pick-your-genderism,. Politicians have arranged it on the plate in an appealing-to-the-masses presentation sprinkling everything with virtue-signaling. The media has served it with self-righteous, ostentatious superciliousness, and self-important flourishes. The plate of the God-less naturalism conglomerated goulash has been constantly put on the table under the nose of the current generation. And, that generation has with relish dove into and devoured it. But, as it rises from the table of the latest rant, fad, entertainment, poor excuse for a movie, and the latest trend on social media, it is not only still empty, but emptier. Not still hungry, but hungrier. Today’s generation, and the one before it, have fared little better at the restaurant of the modern, entertainment-oriented, progressive Christian church. The setting may be a bit different—only a nano-bit, but the same stuff, though called by a different name, is on the menu. And on the plate. It is no more nourishing and satisfying eaten at a church as it is at any secular venue. Youth have departed the church having been fed no Truth, experienced no power, and seen no transformation. At Asbury, youth, left hungry by our contemporary culture, have responded when the Holy Spirit entered their chapel and began serving the reality of Christ. It fed their soul. Their worship was their dining. Their continuing worship was an indication, not that they were not finding what would satisfy, but that they had found it. In Christ. In the presence of God. In the moving of the Spirit. Some prejudicially conclude that good food can only be found at their favorite restaurant of choice. Or in their kitchen. The phenomena at Asbury the last few weeks, to them, cannot be genuine, of God, because either these naysayers did not cook the meal or it was not served at their restaurant. Of course, any revival must be assessed and judged by the Word as any restaurant must be open to a health inspection. Whatever the motives may be for those who would quickly dismiss this Asbury Revival as bona fide, one thing I am sure of is this: God will move whenever, upon whomever, wherever He finds those hunger for Him. And He does not care where they are. Or who they are. Also, I’m convinced, when God fixes and serves the meal, none will be dissatisfied. Except those who will not eat. When Manna falls from the kitchen of heaven, laid before us by serving angels, despite its having fallen closer to a neighbor’s tent than one’s own, it’s not time to discount it. It’s time to gather and eat. It will satisfy like nothing else. And, oh, before criticizing what is being cooked, served, and eaten at another restaurant, you might want to take a look at what is being put on the table at yours. --Pastor Hurst

THE ONE YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR

It is a devasting lie taught by the Devil and Disney and our degraded contemporary culture—that you and I can find value in ourselves. It goes like this: “You only need to look within for value, meaning, strength, and courage.” “You can be anything you want to be.” “You have it in you.” “You can find whatever you need in you.” Or, as expressed in Frozen, when Elsa duets with her mother’s spirit and the departed Mom sings to her, “You are the one you’ve been waiting for.” Behind woke culture’s condoning, endorsing, and encouraging children to go through body mutilating, mind-destroying sex-change treatments for gender reassignment, is this lie. “Look within.” “Whom do you see?” “Be that person, that thing, and you will find fulfillment, meaning, and worth.” “Whatever you think you are, be it.” “You are brave because you choose to transition.” “Your bravery makes you valuable.” Years ago, I attended a youth rally with our church’s teenagers. After service, I was sitting toward the back of the church when the youth began returning from the altar area. One mid-teen young man was coming toward me in a bantam rooster strut. His back was rigidly straight as he stretched to appear taller; his chest, thrust outward so that its muscles might be defined; his chin, lifted high; and, his biceps, flexed tightly to appear bulging. He swaggered from the hips stiffly turning his upper body from side to side as if his torso’s muscles were heavy with their largeness, and that both sides of the aisle might see how strong he was. As he walked past me, I reached up and slapped him on the back and said as if I were scolding him, “Walk like a man!” I saw the confusion cross his face as he froze mid-step. It was a panicky consternation. It said, “I thought I WAS walking like a man. Can’t you see it? Can’t you see how powerful, strong, manly, I am?” He tried to stutter a response, but nothing came out. As he began moving again, he attempted to flex his muscles larger, straighten his back further, and swagger more noticeably. Yes, I was mean. I was only joking but that was plain cruel. But, if he had cared to reflect and think about it, I was revealing an important truth: He was trying to find self-worth in self. He could not but fail. It does our youth no good to lie to them that their value can be found within themselves. It is not true. They need to know the truth. They are broken. They are fallen. They are incomplete. They are lacking. They are destined for disappointment and destruction if they believe the lie that they will find value centered in themselves. Not just they, but all of us. It is with this awareness that glorious truth comes to the rescue: First, that our value can NOT be found by us in us, doesn’t mean we have no value. We most certainly do. Only, it’s not centered in us. It is centered in God. Our value is not subjective in us. It is objective in God. In the fact that we are His creation. That means 1) We are valuable because of Who made us. If I draw a stick figure, it is worthless. If Michelangelo had drawn a stick figure, it would be worth thousands. 2) We are valuable because He values us. As I type, I am sitting with a blanket that’s holey and worn and out of fashion on my lap. It would be worthless to you. You wouldn’t give me even a dollar for it. I won’t part with it. It’s the first blanket my wife and I had when we were newly married. It is valuable because I value it. God values His creation. You are valuable because God values you. He proved that by giving His Son to die for you. 3) We are valuable because we bear the image of the One Who made us. We are image-bearers. For all our falleness and brokenness, we are yet in the image of Creator-God. How valuable is that? Speaking again of our brokenness leads to the second part of the glorious truth. Yes, we are broken. But we are complete in Christ. Christ completes us. He has taken our brokenness upon Himself so that we might be healed. Made complete. My young friend at the youth rally might well straighten his back further, walk taller, and swagger a bit more. Not because he is muscles are so big, or that he is so manly, or that he is so strong, but because he is God’s. He is Christ’s. That’s not arrogance. It’s just an awareness that his value doesn’t come from what he has but from Who has him. God, not you, is the One you’ve been waiting for. --Pastor Clifford Hurst

WHAT TO DO WHEN YOU’VE KICKED YOUR DOG

An article I read about lowering graduation requirements made me think of a mentally deficient beagle I once owned and the night I lost my religion and became a hypocritical preacher. In my beginning years of preaching, when on the subject of sanctification (being made like Christ), I would name different things a person just won’t do if he really has the goods, is sanctified. Starting each declaration with “If you are sanctified, you won’t…., I would get on a rhetoric roll and state, “If you are sanctified, you won’t kick your dog.” Now, at that time, all my life I had beagles for hunting. I had gotten a new beagle that had absolutely no smarts. He loved to bark at night. Over and over, I’d have to get up in the night to quieten him. First, I would try opening the back door and yell-whisper, “Quit.” That only incited him to more barking. That left me to resort to the next step in dog discipline--the rolled-up newspaper. Before you judge me too harshly, that was almost 37 years ago when that was an accepted manner of disciplining a pet. Also, a loosely rolled paper, when applied, only startled and didn’t hurt the animal. You know it had to be a long time ago since there was a newspaper on hand. If you're contemplating reporting me, what I did is past the statute of limitations. Back to that night; around 2 a.m., I rolled my newspaper, and traipsed down the back stairs and across the backyard to where the dog was leashed to its house. I gave it a few swats with the rolled newspaper and, since the dog went silent, turned to go back into the house. I hadn’t taken but a step or two when the dog started yapping again. I whirled about and repeat the dose of discipline. The dog stopped. I turned and took a step. The dog started yapping again. This was repeated over and over. Many nights the dog finally would stop, but not this night. After numerous futile repeats of the procedure, something snapped in my sleep-deprived mind. I wheeled around back to the yapping dog and instead of engaging the newspaper, with my foot I caught the dog under its belly, lifted it, and launched it through the air. When it landed, it yelped and ran into its house. As I turned to walk away, relief that the dog finally went silent was only beginning to settle down on me when I heard the words of my preaching, “If you are sanctified, you will stop kicking your dog.” The conviction was heavy. I could have argued that I hadn’t actually kicked my dog. I had only catapulted him, but I knew the dog nor my conscience would appreciate the difference. So, what did I do? Fall down and cry out for forgiveness pledging never to kick my dog again? No. I simply determined to leave out that line, “…you won’t kick your dog” the next time I preached on sanctification. Not really. Feeling hypocritical, I never did preach that again. But I did use this story to illustrate a truth God taught me that night: When one’s experience falls short of his belief, it is easier to change his belief to accommodate the insufficiency of his experience than it is to get his experience back up to the level of his belief. It was easier to quit believing, if one is sanctified, he won’t kick his dog than to stop kicking the dog. How does the article on graduation requirements remind me of all this? Because the article reported the school officials’ intentions to lower the graduation requirements in order that more students might graduate. Lowering the standard was easier than getting the students to meet the requirements. So many Christians today have found their experience and walk fallen way below what they have professed to believe. Rather than endeavoring to get their experience back in line with what they believe, they simply alter their belief to coincide with their present experience. They lower the standard and deceive themselves into believing they are still graduating. So many examples of this could be given, but there is no space. There is only enough room left to tell you that, no, I never kicked my dog again. I just don't own a dog. --Pastor Clifford Hurst

THE DEVIL YOU DON’T SEE

I’m not trying to be pejorative by using “Indian.” I’m not prejudiced. It’s not a slam. It’s just a quote from history to make a point. A needed one. In a campaign against Indians on a killing and scalping warpath spree, General Miles was leading troops from Kansas down into Indian Territory (Oklahoma) to catch and capture the perpetrators. Those plains, always dry, were especially parched that year. All was barren. One could see for miles. Troops would become nervous when seeing small bands of their enemy on the distant horizon. Those would quickly disappear from sight. Most of the time the cavalry saw nothing in the treeless, open prairie but burnt-up grass and dried-up ground. Miles to keep his men alert and wary to attack kept repeating the adage of those experienced with the West. “When you see Indians about, be careful; when you do not see them, be more careful.” Never were troops in more danger, never could the Indians inflict more damage, destruction, and death than when they had gone unseen until the ambush was complete and the trap sprung. This is so true with our arch-enemy, the Devil. Never is he more dangerous than when he is unseen behind the scenes. Never more deceptive than when he is out of sight, out of mind. Never more destructive than when he lies hidden from view in ambush. The devil has always been able to do less damage when and where folks believed in him and “saw” him at work. The most damage he has ever inflicted on society has happened in those societies which did not believe in him, nor saw his hand in anything. The Soviet communists didn’t believe in God. Nor the devil. Never has there been so much killing, destruction, and death. Generally, in politics, economics, etc., I’m not a fan of conspiracy theories. Not because I don’t believe in conspiracy, but advocates, however, elaborate their theory, however abundant their contrived “evidence,” always get it wrong. For one, they get the real masterminds, movers and shakers, and substantiating evidence all wrong. I do believe a conspiracy is playing out covertly, undercover across the board throughout all systems and institutions of our nation and world. But, the ultimate mastermind is Satan. As the apostle says, “This whole world lies in the lap of the wicked one.” If our world is the setting of the Wizard of Oz, the Devil is the man behind the curtain pushing the buttons and pulling the levers. Only to far more devasting results. He is behind the trending woke idiocy driving the educating of children, the inculcating of popular philosophy in our colleges, the promotion of perversions in entertainment such as is being done by Disney, and the progressive, constitution-ignoring policies of our government. To name a few. Not to mention the morphism of the contemporary Church into a hybrid hodgepodge of nightclub, self-help, woke post-modernism, Eastern religion, and believe-whatever-it-is-you-wish entertainment. You say, well, from the examples above, perhaps, the devil isn’t quite as invisible as you insist. He seems only too visible. Perhaps, to you. But, not to those whom he would deceive and destroy. Even Christians who should see the devil, not just out in society, but at work in their own lives, particularly in temptation, so very often don’t. It is alarming when believers in drifting towards the ways of our world say of a particular thing, issue, or circumstance, “I don’t see any harm in that.” “I don’t see how that’s wrong.” That’s the devil you need to be the most disconcerted about. And wary against. The one you can’t see. The one you’re not keeping an eye on. The one you’re not resisting. The one you can’t run off. The one you let stick around and do whatever it is he’s doing. Other reports of that era, from which I borrowed the above quote, said that, in the Southwest Desert, Apaches were so adept at camouflaging themselves that they could be lying just a few feet away and one would never see them. They would blend in so well with the rock and dirt of the terrain, you would never know they were there until they had sprung up, crushed your skull, and taken your scalp. Again, without disparaging our Native American brothers, I would like to appropriate the above quote and word it this way: "When you see the Devil about, be careful; when you do not see him, be more careful.” -Pastor Clifford Hurst

LIFTED A FOOT (A FAITH) HIGHER

“A foot higher, and it’s a brand-new world.” That was Zachary Roloff, of the reality show “Little People, Big World.” Zachary is one of the little people, medically speaking, a dwarf. He is also a twin to a brother, Jeremy, of normal growth and height. When they were fifteen on a trip, they were standing on an enclosed balcony of a tall building looking down over the scene below. Only, Jeremy was seeing below and Zachary was trying to. He could barely see anything over the balcony’s safety wall’s edge and through its window. Jeremy, without being prompted, came from behind and, with hands under Zachary’s arms, lifted him up high enough to see below. After being sat back down, Zachary explains that this was the practice: “My brother lifts me up so I can see what he sees. A foot higher, and it’s a whole new world.” No doubt. The view of just a wall in front of you is by no means comparable with nor desirable as the scene of the landscape below stretching all around you, and the horizon and sky to boot. Zachary could not see what brother Jeremy saw until Jeremy lifted him. We often find ourselves in life, in our walk of faith, in our moments of crises, troubles, perplexities, and dilemmas seeing only the wall before us. The bleak wall. We can see no further. Not what’s beyond. Not what’s around. God sees beyond the wall before us. He sees all around us and ahead of us. But we can’t. But, when we can’t see, He lifts us. The Apostle Paul captures this lifting in a theological declaration (Ephesians): He declared that, when God raised Jesus from the dead, He raised Him all the way to glory and sat Him upon a throne, high about every opposing force, power, and might. Jesus is seated on high. Far above it all. Seeing it all. That’s all wonderful, but what about us who are still down here seeing nothing but the wall ahead of us? But, hold on. Paul continued. He said God also raised us, those who put their trust in Christ, and sat us in heavenly places with Christ. He raised us up to where Christ is. Far above it all. He raised us to where we can see what Christ sees. What a different view! Instead of just seeing the mess, the trouble, and the ugliness immediately before us, having been lifted by God, we see it all differently. A different world. A different perspective. A different outcome. That is why, when someone comes to know Christ, the world seems to have changed. He had been depressed, or hopeless, or deceived, or unfulfilled. But, having put his faith in Christ, he has been lifted to see his world differently. His future differently. His problems differently. His path differently. He has been lifted “A foot higher, it’s a brand-new world.” Actually, he has been lifted more than a foot higher. And he sees more than just this world. He can see to the next. The lifting isn’t limited to just the initial one from sin, unbelief, Christlessness. From Zachary’s comment, we understand that Jeremy had not just lifted him just that once. Neither has God, us. In the Christian experience, God has means of always lifting us. As and when we need it. His means are varied, but all in conjunction with faith in Christ. In our worshiping He lifts us. In our singing. In our fellowshipping with others who know Christ. In our serving. In our loving. In our reading of His Word. In His Spirit moving in our lives. Whatever the wall before us, the wall we can’t see through, around, or over, He lifts us. More than a foot. Oh, much higher. Above the attack. Above the bad news. Above the sickness. Above the betrayal. Above the crisis. Above the doubt. Above the fear. Above the temptation. And, oh, how differently things look. Just writing this I hear the old hymn’s refrain… Lord, lift me up, and let me stand By faith, on heaven’s tableland; A higher plane than I have found, Lord, plant my feet on higher ground. Lifted a foot higher, a faith higher, we can see things as they appear to God, and it’s a brand-new world. ---Pastor Clifford Hurst