Romans 8:35-37

Last night as I crept to bed, I stopped beside Doogie as he lay sleeping in his little doggie bed. I knelt down next to him and started petting him; he woke from his sleep, looked up at me with weary eyes, and with all the effort he could muster, gently pawed my arm, silently begging for me to lie down with him. So I lay down next to him and he leaned against me and closed his eyes.

Doogie does a lot of bad stuff, but it isn't anything extreme. It's the usual stuff you expect from any household dog. Emptying trash cans, leaving footprints over the carpet, clawing at the doors, sleeping on my bed when I ask him not to. But in all of it, not once do I stop loving him. Even when I yell at him and boot him outside my love for him never fluctuates. If I'm punishing him, I don't stop loving him, and sure enough an hour or two later, I'll let him back inside and he'll be happy again. Not once, in all the bad stuff he does, does the thought ever cross my mind, that thought being getting rid of him. No matter all the bad stuff he does, I won't ever stop loving him and I won't ever consider getting rid of him. He's mine, and nothing he does is going to change that.

I think it's the same way with us and God. He loves us unconditionally; it isn't based on what we do right or what we do wrong. He doesn't love us more when we're doing good than when we're doing bad. And even when we screw up and get locked in bad habits and sinful situations, he isn't going to abandon us, and the thought never crosses his mind: he won't ever abandon us, won't ever get rid of us. We're his, and we are the only ones who will do the abandoning. We may abandon God, but God will never abandon us.

Matthew 19:27-30

Jesus has just finished his little speel saying, "If you really want to follow me, give up everything you have." Our friend Peter, being ever headstrong, elbows his way to the front and asks, face-to-face, in a way that most would declare ignorant and even foolish, "So we leave everything and follow you; now what do we get out of it?" Those around him gasp, others flinch, still some lean forward, waiting for God to rain fire and brimstone upon this infidel. Peter's eyes blaze: he has to know.

Jesus does not rebuke him, does not tell him to be more spiritual, does not chastise his deser's. Jesus says, "In the re:creation of the world, when the Son of Man will rule gloriously, you who have followed me will also rule, starting with the twelve tribes of Israel. And not only you, but anyone who sacrifices home, family, fields - whatever - because of me will get it all back a hundred times over, not to mention the bonus of eternal life. This is the Great Reversal: many of the first ending up last, and the last first."

What do we get out of it? Whatever we give up for God, he'll give it right back to us, with unbelievable interest. And we'll be able to enjoy eternal life: that doesn't just mean life lasting forever, but also life lived to the fullness. We won't spend eternity playing harps and singing in choirs in the clouds. We will dance, run, fly, swim, laugh in a new world, with new canyons and forests and oceans and wildlife. We will live a life of worship, a life of laughter in the Trinity, with no worries, no cares, no deadlines - only joy, happiness, excitement, fun. This is the reward of the one who follows Christ.

Matthew 19:16-26

Sometimes God will set before us two dishes. On one is a charbroiled steak, garlic mashed potatoes, dinner roll with steaming gravy. Upon the other is a single piece of crusty bread, a slab of moldy cheese, and a glass of curdled milk. With one you receive a desert of cherry pie, apple fritters, pecan pie a la mode; the other leaves you with an empty stomach and famished muscles.

Every part of us desires the dinner of elegance, and it comes in many shapes and sizes. A wealthy home with a high-paying job, a luxurious sex life even though you aren't married, the pleasure of being 'high' or drunk, even something as simple as trying to live life unhindered. Yet Jesus shows us this plate and says, "See this? Do you see the steak, the potatoes, the roll and gravy? I know it's appetizing. But you have to give it up. You have to feed it to the dog. If you are going to follow me, you must take the second platter: it is the platter I have taken." He says, "If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have trasure in heaven: and come and follow me."

Jesus' platter is humility, selflessness, love. It is loving everyone no matter what, and sharing your life with others. It is getting rid of short-term pleasure, trading it in for long-term satisfaction. It is being content with the lot God gives you, and not being jealous of everyone else's share. It is fighting off all the temptations and seductions of a world up in arms against God, and not sugar-coating the battle (it won't be easy; it's hard, rough, and painful). But Jesus says, "This is MY way, THE way. It's the route I've taken." We follow Jesus no more than when we truly become like him.

Matthew 19:1-6

A smile heightens over the painter's face; the brushes waver in shaking hands as the excitement pulses through his entire being. The brushes splash in oily drops of paint, then throw themselves against the canvas. Hours pass, the day wanes, night begins to creep through the large bay windows, crimson moonlight dancing over the rough yet exuberant contours of the aged painter. The once-blank canvas has become a masterpiece, evolving from manilla parchment to a landscape of waterfalls and canyons, mountains and valleys, rivers and oceans, teeming with wildlife, a sparkling sun the radiant backdrop. He leans back in his chair, lets out a sigh, admires his work, his own creation.

The door to the room bursts open and a man rushes in. The painter jumps up, spilling his paint all over the cobblestone floor, and he cries out, but to no avail: the intruder grabs the drying parchment, gives out a sinister laugh, mockery of everything pure and right and noble and true, and rips the painting, right down the middle. He does not stop there. He tosses it to the floor, douses it with gasoline, and the painter, now bound in chains, is forced to watch as his painting ignites, smolders, and becomes ashes and dying embers. The man laughs and exits, his mockery bouncing over the rock walls of the pristine garden. The painter rolls into a fetal ball and cries.

This is the handiwork of divorce.

Matthew 18:21-35

Much of the time we make the mistake of majoring in the minors and minoring in the majors. We speak so fervently against gambling or dancing, smoking or drinking, an entire plethora of do's and don't's, often making them the center-pieces of our Christian lives. This has been happening for centuries upon centuries, for thousands upon thousands of years. We become experts in the realm of the fine print of religious faith, and yet so often we neglect the bigger, more important things of God.

We minor in things like sin management and tithing and what kind of worship music is best for the congregation. Whatever happened to the call to love? Most of the world doesn't see Christians as loving because we are judgmental, condemning and piously arrogant. Whatever happened to the call of mercy? If you double-cross most Christians, they'll double-cross you and seek revenge like it were a cure for cancer. Whatever happened to forgiveness? We hold so many grudges against one another that it would fill more hymnals than we care to read.

Jesus calls us to love others more than he calls us to obedience (I am not saying obedience isn't important!). Jesus calls us to mercy more than he calls us to throw off the yoke of dancing and gambling. Jesus calls us to forgive others, and then he adds a tagline: If you don't forgive others, you won't be forgiven. Major in the majors and minor in the minors. Everything, then, will fall into place.

Matthew 18:15-17

None of us get through life without hardship. It is impossible to live in complete harmony with everyone around you. There is no utopian society that has worked. All attempts at such have failed. The reason is simple: we live in a world where corruption and ruin have the dominant hand, spreading its fingers over everything from geography to politics and even to the vast expanses of the human heart. A very optimistic sort could say, "Love everyone and you will find perfect harmony." Only one person in this world has ever been perfect at loving everyone, and those he loved tortured, mocked, spit upon and crucified him.

Yet just because the world is an unfriendly place doesn't mean there is no chance at harmony. There will be harmony. We will love and be loved, enjoying friendship and loving companionship. But there will also be times when we want to scream, rant, hurt and maim. It is human nature. Jesus speaks to such situations. He tells us what to do when we have difficulties with another person, whether it be difficulties from the minor to the major. A biblical outline for approaching each other.

First, we need to confront the person we are feeling a little tension between. Try to talk some sense into them, lovingly and gently. An entire year of sermons could be spent on what it means to be loving and gentle, but there's no room - nor desire - for that here. If no ground is made from that, then gather some other people and, as a group, approach this person. If no ground is made even then, take it to the church - in my opinion, take it to the leaders of the church. Ministers, deacons, priests, what have you. And if no reconciliation has been discovered, gently break ties with that person, loving them all the same and forgiving them at the same time. This is the biblical way.

Matthew 8:11-14

Walk into most church buildings, whether it be those mega-churches with high-tech media screens, or the rich ones with gold-plated pews, or the out-in-the-woods hillbilly/redneck churches, and you'll most likely find someone saying, "Seek the lost! Find the lost! Draw the lost back to God!" Yet sometimes, in the fray of these words, we lose touch with reality, we forget that we, too, were lost once, and somehow we forget how much God has made our lives worth living. At some churches you will even find, and this compliments my utter astonishment, a preacher screaming into the crowd, "If you haven't made Jesus Lord of Your Life, then you are going to burn in Hell, you miserable sinners!" This fire-and-brimstone theology, let me point out, isn't very effective.

Somewhere along the line we've seen those who do not know first-hand the love of God as "lost," "sinners," and "unbelievers." Yet I look into the Scriptures, at the beautiful words of Jesus himself, who is the very embodiment of the love that all disciples of Jesus cling to in their hearts, and he doesn't only refer to those who need him and yet do not have him as "lost," "sinners," and "unbelievers." Yes, he does make these statements sometimes, don't get me wrong, but they aren't exclusive.

I imagine Jesus' eyes burning with a mysterious passion, his muscles gushing with divine adrenaline, as he speaks of those he loves and calls them such names as "missing" and "treasured." I think that, maybe, if we got away from the us-and-them mentality, got away from the miserable sinner and hell-and-brimstone theologies, if we looked at people in the lens' of Jesus - seeing them not as ungodly sinners on a high road to Hell, but as missing and treasured children of God who are lost and seeking direction - and we are there to show them their Father once again, evangelism will mean something new to us, and more importantly, we would be ever closer to imitating Christ.

Matthew 18:8-9

A co-worker told me of his cousin who was deeply religious – he would lock himself in his room and study the Bible for hours upon hours. One day the cousin’s father knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Another knock, and another. Nothing. Worried, he smashed the door open: the cousin lay hunched over, his throat slit and blood emptied all over a pile of sand. I am sure the color drained from my face, as this is a true story, and my co-worker told me, “You gotta be careful with the Bible. You can’t go mistranslating all that stuff.”

Here is a passage of scripture that goes mistranslated over and over. Jesus is saying, “If your eye causes you to sin, gauge it out. If you’re feet run to do evil, cut them off. It’s better to enter Heaven blind and paralyzed than fully-seeing, fully-walking, only to be burnt in a lake of fire.” His speech is figurative. He is not commanding us to stab out our eyes every time we happen to chance upon a lovely girl and lust creeps up – if that were the case, I’d been blinded years ago! No, Jesus is saying, “Don’t get involved with stuff that will lead you to sin.”

This ‘stuff’ that can lead us to sin is not a defined list. It varies with every person. Is it the people you hang out with, or the television shows you watch, or you the music you listen to, or the girlfriend or boyfriend you spend all your time with? Jesus says that when we follow him, we must live lives that glorify God, and if we spend all our time in habits that turn us away from God, our following won’t be getting too strong. Jesus recommends that we toss out – or at least trim down – all those habits that may lead us to sin (habits that in themselves may not be sin) and replace them with habits that will deepen our roots of faith. This is one aspect of self-denial and taking up our cross.

Matthew 18:1-5

This is one of the most widely-known phrases Jesus ever said: "Have faith like a child." But in our modern day and age - and certainly, in Jesus' day and age - what does this, really, mean? What is Jesus hinting at? He pulls a little child close to him, and as he laughs and holds the child close, he looks at all those around him with those wonderful, fiery eyes and says, "Unless you become like little children, you will never see the Kingdom of God!" So what is Jesus hinting at?

In taking on the faith of a child, we throw everything up into Daddy's arms - we give him our hopes, our dreams, our pains and our hurts. We acknowledge that our life is in his hands. We know that if we get disconnected, we will become lost, disoriented, confused, and end up hurting ourselves or getting snatched by a shadowed phantom. We trust that he will take care of us, trust that he knows what is best for us, even when none of it makes sense; we will trust that he has the cards stacked in his favor. And as we walk through life, we hold on to his hand, squeezing tightly; at times, he will pick us up and carry us. We do not fear him as we would fear a stranger, but we love him and respect him because we know he could leave us on the side of the street if he so decided (he won't). And when life gets hard, or when we're celebrating, when our emotions flare in any direction, we look into his eyes and cry out, "Daddy! Daddy!"

The words were engraved in Matthew's mind: "Unless you become like little children, you will never see the Kingdom of God!"