How Much Is Too Much To Give?

How much is too much to give to Jesus?

Can you give too much of your time to Him? Too much of your energy? Too much of your resources? Too much of your life? Is there a limit to how devoted and surrendered you should be? Can expressions of love and devotion to Jesus ever be too costly and extravagant?

THAT’S TOO MUCH

I remember years ago hearing a sermon from a pastor where he talked about giving a commencement speech at a high school graduation. His message was about holding nothing back. He told missionary stories, He talked about dying to self, and he expounded on the glories of Christ. He did all he could to convince these young students that Jesus was worthy of the greatest and most radical sacrifices; that He was worthy of their whole lives. After the speech, a father of one of the students, a Christian himself, found the pastor and began rebuking him, saying something to the degree of, “How dare you try and persuade my daughter toward this kind of sacrifice. Loving Jesus is fine, but we don’t want it to consume her life.”

I was so blown away by that story when I heard it, that someone could claim to love Jesus and yet put limits on how much He is worth. But as the years have gone by, I have since realized that even if I don’t say it like that father did, I live it. Everyday I live like Jesus is only worth a tenth of my finances, only worth a quarter of my energy and only worth two-thirds of my life. I hold back from going all in because I rationalize in my head that giving Him everything would be unreasonable. It would be foolish and wasteful. And obviously Jesus wouldn’t want me to be foolish and wasteful with the things He has given me.

A BEAUTIFUL THING

For the last week or so I have been stuck in Matthew 26, reading over and over the story of the woman who anoints Jesus. This woman (who was Mary, according to John’s gospel) takes an alabaster flask of very expensive ointment, and pours it all over Jesus’ head while he reclines at the table in Simon the Leper’s house. Now, to our twenty-first century minds it is such a wild story. Why would anyone do such a thing? But at the time it was a pretty normal situation. It was just good hospitality in the first century to anoint your guest’s heads with oil, especially distinguished guests. The crazy part seems to be not that she anointed Jesus’ head, but just how much of the expensive ointment she anointed Him with.

As soon as the disciples see it, they say, “Why this waste? For this could have been sold for a large sum and given to the poor” (Mat. 26-8-9). Their interpretation of the event is that the woman wasted this ointment on Jesus. It was irrational, illogical, unwise, foolish and wasteful to put it all on His head. She should have perhaps put a little bit on Him and used the rest for a different and more rational purpose. But the woman clearly wasn’t thinking about what the most rational thing to do was. She was interested in performing a lavish gesture of love, obviously because she thought Jesus was worthy of it. She thought that this would be a good use of what she had.

Well, somehow Jesus becomes aware that the disciples are grumbling about this woman’s actions and he speaks directly to them, beginning with these words, “Why do you trouble the woman? For she has done a beautiful thing to me” (Mat. 26.10).

EVERYTHING

Put it all together. The woman makes an incredibly costly and extravagant sacrifice to honor Jesus. She dumps out the entire bottle of what Matthew says is a “very expensive ointment.” If John’s account of Mary anointing Jesus is in fact this same story, then it’s a bottle worth tens of thousands of dollars, upwards of an average year’s salary. What a waste! From a logical and rational standpoint, the disciples are absolutely right. The bottle could have been sold and the money could have gone to the poor or to a thousand other things. You would think Jesus would have rebuked the woman for being a bad steward. Instead, he approves wholeheartedly of what she has done. He welcomes it. He says to his disciples with the woman probably in ear shot, “She has done a beautiful thing to me.”

The more I read this story the more I am convinced that when it comes to us giving to Jesus, there is no such thing as waste. There is no surrender too great, no act of devotion too strong, and no gift too extravagant, because He is worth it. He is worthy of it. If the living creatures can say in the book of Revelation, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing,” then He worthy of anything I could possibly give, even the entirety of my short little life on this earth (Rev. 5.12).

The reality is that a Christian life lived well, will always look strange to others; it will look like a waste. But that is ok, because at the end of the day all that matters is if the One whom we are living for approves of how we have lived. Giving your life to Jesus on the mission field may look like a waste to the world, but Jesus says, “He/she has done a beautiful thing to me.” Giving your finances to furthering the work of Christ in the world may look like a waste to even people in the church, but Jesus, “He/she has done a beautiful thing to me.” Laying down your time, your career, your energy, your resources at the feet of Christ may seem to everyone around you too radical of a sacrifice, but Jesus says “He/she has done a beautiful thing to me.”

While we think about how we will live for Jesus today, and tomorrow and next year, the question we should ask should never be, “Is this too much to give to Jesus?”

If the woman with the alabaster jar has taught me anything, it is that Jesus is worthy of it all.

Book Review: “A Theology of Play: Learning to Enjoy Life as God Intended"

“A Theology of Play: Learning to Enjoy Life as God Intended” by Kevin M. Gushiken

As soon as I saw the title, “A Theology of Play,” I was intrigued. I am not the kind of person that struggles with finding time and motivation to play. That part comes fairly naturally to me. But I have wrestled often with wondering whether God even wants me to play and to have fun? Like, is it alright to go skateboard, or should I be reading Scripture in all my free time? More then that, if play is a part of God’s design and intentions for me, then how can I make skateboarding and other activities of play glorifying to God?

Gushiken provides answers to those questions and many more in his book. He addresses the person like me who loves to play but carries some level of guilt about it, as well as the person who doesn’t make time for play but needs to. He examines things like the common barriers to play, the need for spontaneous play, the relationship between suffering and play, finding freedom from guilt and shame in play, and magnifying God’s glory in our play.

Of course, the most important part for me of these aspects of play is not Gushiken’s thoughts on them, but God’s. Does the Bible provide answers to my questions about play? Can a person actually discover a Theology of Play in Scripture without distorting verses to try and justify it?

My impression from page one and on was that Gushiken is a man who is well versed in the Scriptures, who gives great exegetical thought and care to his study, and who, in this book in particular, was/is seeking to know what God’s Word has to say on the subject at hand. This is not to say that you shouldn’t read this book and then like the Bereans, examine the Scriptures to see if these things are so. We should do that with any book we read. But I do think you can read this book with confidence that Gushiken is equipped to and devoted to genuinely and intelligently finding insights into play that are absolutely found in and based on Scripture.

All that being said, if I had any greater hopes for this book, it would be that Gushiken would have provided further insight into his study. Again, he does a good job of showing the biblical basis for each chapter, but I would have loved to see even more! With Theology in the title, I was hoping it would be a little bit more technical than it was. But, in his defence, then the book may have been less accessible to a wide range of readers.

All in all, a great book. It is a strong and biblical argument for play being something designed and ordained by God, for our joy and His glory.

If you struggle with seeing a reason to play, or if you struggle with guilt in your play, this one’s for you!

Book Review: "The Soul-Winning Church"

“The Soul Winning Church: Six Keys to Fostering a Genuine Evangelistic Community” by J.A. Medders and Doug Logan Jr. The Good Book Company, 2024.

I am probably the thousandth person by now to make a post like this about the “Soul-Winning Church,” but I have to say it. This book was fantastic. It was to my heart what kerosene is to a fire. Fuel!

I have lived and pastored for a long time now with an always increasing frustration and confusion as to why our churches aren’t making more disciples. Why are the baptismal waters so still? Why is so much church growth dependent on other church’s decline? What are we doing wrong or missing all together? What needs to change? I have walked around with these questions swirling around in my head, but not ever really being able to put them into words, let alone find their corresponding answers. And then this book showed up in the mail.

In only 164 pages (making it super accessible and easy to hand out to almost anyone) Medders and Logan do a massive job, and they do it well. They give hope to pastors like me that our little churches can be soul-winning churches; that evangelism can be ingrained in the culture of our churches and not just be another category of ministry, and that we can love the people that come from other places, without settling for transfer growth as the ultimate means of growth.

Medders and Logan identify in the book six key areas of focus for becoming a church that reaches the lost. Each key is just as convicting, convincing and compelling as the next, well at the same time being so obviously biblical. I am not lying when I tell you that I only made it through chapter one before stopping to spend the next week reflecting on the first key and laying out plans for walking through the chapter with my elders at our next meeting (which is exactly what we did).

I think if you’re a pastor you need to read this. I think if your plumber you need to read this. I think that this book needs to be read by home groups, men’s groups, women’s groups, youth groups, and by everyone else in the church that’s not in a group. At the end of the day, I don’t think that I am the only one feeling this perplexing frustration about the lack of souls being won. Something is missing, and Medders and Logan identify that missing piece. They remind readers how central soul-winning is to the mission of the church, and then they go to work on equipping the church for that mission.

We have got to be churches that are consumed with winning souls, because Christ is consumed with winning souls! And if there is a book that can play even the smallest part in further fueling that passion and preparing Christians to walk it out, then in my mind, that is a must read.

As Spurgeon writes (and as Medders and Logan quote him saying), “Soul-winning is the chief business of the Christian minister; indeed, it should be the main pursuit of every believer. We should each say with Simon peter, “I go afishing,” and with Paul our aim should be, “That I might by all means save some.”[1]

Grab it, read it, and lets go!

[1] C.H. Spurgeon, The Soul Winner: How to Lead Sinners to the Savio (Fleming H. Revell. 1895), p 9.

What God Can Do Through My Rejection

Rejection hurts.

I remember once being in the middle of a job application process. I had just finished an online interview with an assessment team, when I noticed a new email in my inbox from one of the assessors. I was surprised to see an email show up so quickly, but I thought, “Maybe I wowed everyone in the interview to the degree that there was no question about offering me the job. A no brainer.”

I clicked the mouse, the email opened, and then my head sunk. There was no job offer. Instead, the assessment team had accidentally sent me the document that contained all of the raw notes from the most recent interview and the ones previous. The notes spoke for themselves. “His answers are rambly and uncompelling, as mentioned in previous assessments” and “Struggles to articulate any clear sense of direction.”

I can’t tell you how much that situation stung. But it wasn’t anything new. Rejection always hurts, no matter what I am being rejected from. It always makes me squirm; makes me want to disappear. And yet, I have come to realize through the years and over the course of many rejections that God can and does use rejection in my life to do a myriad of beautiful things. These days, even though rejection is still uncomfortable, I find myself almost eagerly anticipating it because of what I know God is going to do through it and how He is going to be glorified by it.

If you think that sounds crazy, then allow me to share some the ways that consistently uses rejection in my life for my good and His glory.

1. Rejection reminds me that God’s opinion is the only one that matters.

Acceptance can be like a drug. The more you get it, the more you need it. You increasingly long for applause and embrace, and at least for me, the desperate pursuit of it is only broken when I am rejected. Rejection forces me to stop the pursuit and reflect on it. And that reflection, when it is led by prayer and carried out in Scripture, leads me every time to remembering that I am unconditionally accepted by the God. He is the only one with the power to truly condemn me, and if He accepts me, then who cares who rejects me!

As Paul writes in Romans, “Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us” (Romans 8.34-35).

2. Rejection gives opportunity for the fruit of the Spirit to flourish in my life.

Rejection never creates me in an immediate affection for the person doing the rejecting. I don’t instantly want to take that person out for a nice gourmet meal. I want to share some carefully chosen words with him/her before I march away. When I am on the receiving end of rejection, there is no one in that moment that is harder for me to show love to then the rejector. So, what an opportunity to practice the love of God! Acceptance doesn’t give you that opportunity. It is easy to love the person that accepts you. Jesus himself said, “If you love those who love you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them” (Luke 6.32). But to receive the rejection and in turn love and serve the one that rejected you, that requires the Holy Spirit in you. That produces for you a reward in heaven and leads to your growth on earth.

If we are willing to see the opportunity and rely on the Spirits power, then rejection can be the tool that God uses to foster and grow the Fruit of the Spirit in our lives

3. Rejection reveals to me what I am worshipping that is not God.

One way of identifying idols is to simply pay attention to the things that make you sin in anger when you don’t get them. If you are rejected from a job and it makes you walk away cursing under your breath or leads to new dry wall work in the basement, then there is probably an idol there. You are worshipping something as ultimate. It could be the job itself; it could be people’s applause and acceptance, or it could even be the power and authority that comes from the job and the applause. Whatever it is, if its absence causes you to sin its probably something you are convinced that you need.

John ends his first letter with these words, “Little children, keep yourselves from idols” (1 John 5.21). If rejection is an accelerated way of identifying the idols in our lives so that they can be removed from our lives, then maybe we ought to say, “Bring on the rejection!”

4. Rejection puts me in the company of Christ.

It is not that Jesus is not with me when things go well and I am accepted, but there is a different kind of nearness and kinship that I find when I experience rejection, since Jesus Himself was rejected. John writes in the introduction to His gospel, “He [Jesus] came to his own, and his own people did not receive him” (John 1.11). In other words, the God of the Universe knows what it is like to be spurned and to be refused. His own people turned their backs on Him right from the beginning of His ministry, and it eventually climaxed at the cross.

In as much as we experience rejection that is not a result of our own sinful choices, we find ourselves in the company of Jesus. He understands it. He comforts us through it, and He relates to us in it, because His own people did not receive Him. Jesus knows rejection.

5. Rejection gives me sympathy for others.

Not only does Jesus relate to us in our rejection, but we relate to others. Everyone is rejected at some point, and probably at many points. And everyone, after being rejected, is looking for comfort in their rejection; looking for someone who can understand and who can give them some shred of hope. Well, who better to do that than the Christians in their lives, who have also experienced rejection. More then that, Christians who have found through their rejection that Jesus is better than whatever they were rejected from; that as Jesus said to the apostle Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12.9).

Rejection gives us the ability to relate to and sympathize with the rejected; to weep with those who weep (Romans 12.15). It gives us the opportunity to learn what others are growing through, and it opens the door for sharing with them the Gospel of the rejected Christ.

6. Rejection leads me to prayer.

Rejection often initially creates in me a lot of internal turmoil. I start asking why God would let this happen to me. Why would He allow me to be rejected? I begin questioning what His will is for my life, and wondering if maybe I had misheard Him. I wrestle. And how do I wrestle? In prayer. I talk to God. I petition Him; I call out to Him. I share with Him and confess to Him. And eventually through my wrestling and processing, I always find my back to praying “Lord, your will be done.”

The disciples once said to Jesus, “Lord, teach us to pray” (Luke 11.1). I have made the same request many times. I think that rejection has been one of Jesus’ consistent answers to my request. I don’t plan it, it is the near jerk reaction. Rejection leads me to pray, and prayer leads me closer to Jesus.

7. Rejection creates in me a fearlessness.

As terrible as rejection can be, it also becomes for me a case-study of the unbelievable faithfulness and goodness of God. Every time I am rejected, I get to witness and experience firsthand the nearness God, the care of God and the power of God. I get to watch as He sustains me, provides for me, and gives me the strength to endure. I always end up after each rejection more sure of His faithfulness to love me and look after me. And the result of that realization is an increasing fearlessness for the Kingdom of God in the face of men.

If God is faithful to walk with me through rejection, then who is there to fear? More than that, what risk is there that is not worth taking for the Kingdom of God if it would serve to advance it? Instead of running from rejection you begin expecting it and welcoming it for the sake of the Gospel. You begin sounding like the Paul, “If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ” (Galatians 1.10)

Rejection still hurts. Its still not fun. And yet, these days I anticipate it more than I try to avoid it. I am convinced that there are few more powerful tools in the hands of God to shape me, mould me and glorify Himself through me. So, let me simply end by encouraging you in this way: Don’t miss the incredible potential that your rejection holds. The next time you experience rejection, don’t underestimate what God might do with it.

Spiritual Devolution

I often hear people speak of the deconstruction of their Christian faith as spiritual evolution. When I hear that title given to it, I wonder, what if it is actually spiritual devolution?

Why do we always think that any movement is forward? Or that going forward is always progress? Or that we are always nearing the correct destination?

What if we are actually just getting more lost?

Why is it that simple faith, clear convictions, unwavering obedience to Jesus’ commands, and white-hot passion for him is the embarrassment? What if this is the real embarrassment: the palatable, shape-shifting, powerless Jesus that we call thinking clearly?

What if fifteen-year-old you was closer to the centre than you think?

Maybe it is worth deconstructing our deconstruction sometimes, instead of just assuming we took down the right building and built a better one.

Maybe not all growth is good growth, and not all movement leads you home.