LORDING IT OVER

1 Peter 5 is full of strong and encouraging admonitions, but the one phrase that has stood out to me over the last few days of reflection is this: elders are not to "lord it over" those entrusted to their care. Perhaps the attitude is the same as the practice of the Nicolaitans, whom Jesus despises. Obviously, at cciph we try to avoid exercising power over people. But are we being successful?

What is difficult for me is to find a balance. Paul encouraged Timothy by telling him that God has not given us the spirit of timidity, and that he was to teach "with all authority." Elders have "authority," meaning that they can "write laws" for others. The book of Hebrews tells us to obey our leaders, so there is such a thing as a "leader," who boldly goes somewhere before others do. So, how do I distinguish when I have crossed the line? Am I timid and needing to fearlessly exercise authority, or am I a control freak who lords it over those entrusted to my care?

What are the marks of a Nicolaitan, or of one who lords it over others? I suppose one mark is disallowing freedom by controlling some aspect of someone's life. If I tell someone that I know what is best and that they need to trust and yield to my opinion, I may have crossed the line.

A prophet may say hard things, but after doing so, must let the recipient respond. The role of a prophet is not to control the one to whom a message has been delivered. Likewise, when I pray for someone, sometimes God gives me a clear word for that person. I need to discern whether or not to speak that word, and when. And I need to protect the confidentiality and privacy of that person when I learn something secret about him or her.

I don't think that my feelings of love for the person should be my measuring stick. Controlling people believe that they sincerely love the person whom they are controlling. Perhaps the measuring stick is how I respond when they don't act on my counsel; am I irritated, or do I continue to love him or her?

There is a time for church discipline. We must discipline someone has been told clearly what is right, and they choose to disobey God. The difficulty for the leader is to know when it was proper biblical discipline, and when it was meddling into someone's private life and controlling their freedom.

Maybe the center of the issue is this: Jesus told me that if I want to be the leader of all, I must be the servant of all. Anyone I am trying to have authority over is the very person whom I need to serve. If I am allowing others to serve me, it's a mark that I am starting to "lord it over" those entrusted to my care. And if I serve someone with an attitude that he or she now "owes me" something, I have crossed over into manipulation.

"LORD, I still don't know quite how to know the difference. But I ask You, Wise One, to grant me boldness to lead and humility to let go. Let me be a servant of all, just as Jesus was the Servant of all. And make me Your follower. I ask it because Jesus set the example for me, and I know He commands it of me, and I need Your help to do it. Amen."
-ker

From www.larknews.com (note: this is not real.)

Pastor's wife sends body double to sit pleasantly on front pew
GRAND FORKS, Mich. — Unbeknownst to her husband or congregation, Trudy Smith has been avoiding church for two years, sending a look-alike in her place.
"I'm saddened to announce that the woman you've seen here is not my wife," pastor Nevin Smith said to a hushed congregation at Belfrey Presbyterian church.
His wife Trudy began staying home after running into a woman at Kohl's who looked very much like her.
"I asked what she did on Sunday mornings, and would she like to make a hundred bucks a week?" Trudy says. "She said yes and suddenly I was free."
The impostor played the role successfully, greeting people, hugging her husband, listening to the sermon, taking copious notes. But she was found out when Nevin invited her up one Sunday for a spontaneous reprisal of an old hymn they sang early in their ministry.
"I knew the kids' names, anniversaries and birthdays, but I didn't know that song," said the fake Trudy, who asked not to be identified. She made roughly $10,000 over two years.
"Worth every penny," says the real Trudy, who's back on the front pew. "You know, mannequins are getting more realistic ..."

THE LEAST OF THESE

Today I experienced and beautiful and sobering sight. I helped with a community program called Adapted BasebALL. The emphasis is on ALL, meaning that the game is adapted to meet the needs of every player. Each of the players receives a uniform and is assigned to a team, but no score is kept, there are no strike outs and no walks, and everyone is encouraged and built up to have fun and play to the best of his or her own level. Some are in wheelchairs, some have mental limitations, and some have physical impairments. But all can play, according to their ability.

What is sobering about the program is this: These young people are all made in the image of God, and are as worthy of attention and encouragement as any. Almost all had a "buddy," usually a parent. These able-bodied adults were there for a single purpose: to help them do their best and enjoy the game. It is a picture of what the body of Christ should look like. All are valuable. There is no Most Valuable Player, no place for comparative worth, for all have value, and all have worth. In fact, those members with special needs receive more attention, because they need it.

If we can be so generous with something that doesn't really count eternally, why can't we be consistent in believing that what the Bible says about the value of human life is true? A person with an I.Q. of 48 is not worth one-third the value of a person with an I.Q. of 144. And a person with two strong legs is not worth twice as much as a person with none. In the church, the person who is "barely a believer," and "ungifted" or "unanointed" is worth as much as the gifted and anointed person. We all need love, we all need a listening ear, and we all need Jesus. No one is more worthy than another.

"LORD, thank You for the reminder today. Help me to live my life tomorrow and beyond (should You will it) as if every person I see is worth my attention and love and affection and care. Love them through me, the little children, the old people, the family members, and the seekers. Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace. I ask it in the name of the Good Shepherd, who said, 'Let the little children come unto Me, and do not hinder them, for of such is the Kingdom of heaven.' Amen."
-ker

i'm new to the cciph blog, but i thought i would post some thoughts from my own journal that i had in reaction to seeing the passion of the christ earlier this evening... -brad


Lord, open my eyes...

that was my prayer as i took my seat in the darkened theater earlier this evening. i think i'm probably the last person around to finally see this film... it's hard to even call it a film, it seemed so real, so tangible. during the next few hours, i kept my eyes open, even when everything inside of me wanted to shut them tight, cover my ears and scream to keep the awful sounds and images from ringing inside my head. (maybe this would be a good time to note that i am a very empathetic person. this is essential in understanding my reaction to the film) as i watched the story of christ's suffering unfold before my eyes, i found myself identifying with each of the principle characters...

i was peter, denying that i had anything to do with jesus, merely to save my own face. i was heartbroken when i saw the look of utter disappointment on the face of my Lord, and realized that i had become the very person that only hours earlier i said i would never become.

i was mary magdalene, remembering when i crawled pathetically to the feet of my Savior after saving me from the assault of the jewish elders, weeping because i didn't deserve his love. i watched in horror and disbelief as he sacrificed himself for my sake yet again.

i was pontius pilate, torn between the decision to do what was right, to set an innocent man free, or to simply please the crowd and protect myself from future strife.

i was mary, the mother of christ, watching helplessly as my son was tortured nearly to the point of death. i wept, desperately wanting to heal his pain, to hold him in my arms like when he was a young child, to comfort and console him.

all of these things (and much more) were racing through my head as i sat there next to my dad. and i sobbed. there were times when i wanted to get up from my seat, somehow walk through the movie screen (and travel back 2000 years) and take the place of Jesus as they beat him, the place i know that i deserve. other times i wanted to scream at the roman soldiers who flagellated him, "stop, stop, you're killing him!" i never looked away, not once. i didn't have the will to turn my head or to even close my eyes. throughout the film i uttered silent prayers of thanksgiving, it seemed that i couldn't say it enough. i've done nothing to deserve this sacrifice, Lord... thank you, thank you, thank you.

SINNERS' SIGHS
(modified from an anonymous 16th century madrigal)

If sinners' sighs are angels' food
Repentant tears to them are wine
O Lord accept this feast of mine
As hearty meal of manna
Like Peter I denied and slept
Then went my way while Peter wept

If I had David's crown to wear
And purple robes of finest weave
O Lord I'd set them all aside
And put on rags and sackcloth
I'd trade a palace for a cell
And start again to love You well

Your blood can conquer any sin
Its greatness I can't comprehend
O Lord therefore let mercy win
When sin and faith do battle
I say with all the saints of old
Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow
-ker

Well....It's done....

Now, Katie is someone elses. Giving her away...literally...has to be so hard. Pam and I often wonder how it will be with Brigid. She's the only one. I think that parents of only one child naturally develop 'child-centered' parenting. Not a very healthy thing, but it happens. When she is gone, we will find out just how strong our love for each other really is! We'll only have each other then. No 'buffer zone'. Not too long ago, we would have worried about this. But not any more. We're beyond that now. Call it growing, maturing in Christ....But we'll be ok...except for the natural feelings of letting go! So, Ken....as you said...at least she knows you love her...and now it's time to really trust the Lord with her. After all, isn't she ...............His? mapk

Making us all cry....
Very Father of the Bride.
-cel

LETTING GO

Ellen and I were taken by surprise this evening. We have felt some undefined emotion growing the last couple of weeks, but the source wasn't clear. I have been kind of hoping that it is Katie's wedding, which is in less than 48 hours now, because maybe it will lessen when the wedding is over.

Not much more than a decade ago, Katie was learning to ride a two-wheeler. I can still see my Katie-Bug in her favorite outfit: that pink top with both a pink cotton skirt and pink cotton pants underneath, blonde hair flowing over her shoulders. Bicycle balance was coming hard for her, so we decided to take off the training wheels and use the parent system. Ellen and I both spent several evenings with her, holding the bike up and jogging alongside while our Katie-Bug gained her confidence. Our back and legs hurt and we grew tired, but we knew that Katie needed to conquer this skill. So the next night we tried again, bouncing along down the sidewalk, letting go for an instant and then catching her before she toppled. Again the next night, and she would get it for a few feet and then nearly fall. Sometimes I would let go and the bike would take an unexpected sharp turn into the yard, she would stop pedaling and stick out her feet to catch her balance, and we would both nearly topple over. "Don't let go, Daddy!" she would cry. I would catch her and hold the bike upright, and she would start again.

Then suddenly it happened: while running alongside her across the yard, I could sense that the bike was balanced for two full pumps of the pedals. Hesitantly, I let go, jogging alongside, and she was on her own for one, two, three pedal pumps. I slowed and she continued on out to the driveway, and then she was gone! Down the street she rode, all under her own power. Of course, she never looked back. It was the moment of liberation for her. At that moment, I sensed that something important had just happened. This was my goal, this was the job of fatherhood. The moment came without fanfare or preparation. And when the moment came that she no longer needed me, my relief was more than a little mixed with unexpected sadness. Of course I didn't say that to her. I simply cheered, "Yeah, Katie! Go, Katie, go!"

Then came this evening. I told Ellen that for me the feeling is that Katie may be ready to marry, but I am not ready to let go yet. Can I finish being her dad? There's so much more to instill, there are so many more memories to create, there's got to be, doesn't there, more time? It was only 17 years ago that she was just learning to walk, only 11 years ago that I baptized her in the "new" building at Rolling Hills Christian Church, only four years ago we went to a conference together seeking "the burn" for her, only three years ago we were still doing family concerts together, only two years ago that she and Gregg started dating, only a year ago that they were engaged. And now we stand at this sacred threshhold, and I'm not ready. I have to catch my breath, get one last hug, hear her say, "I love you, Daddy" one more time.

Ellen and I were both surprised by the waves of emotion that overwhelmed us. Why didn't someone tell us about this part of parenting? This is the very goal of being a father, to release a child to adulthood, but it is painful. It is awful, and it is wonderful.

I have wondered how it would feel, this letting go, and dreaded the moment. Just give me an extra day. An hour. I promise, I won't take it for granted. But time keeps moving, bringing us closer to the inexorable release. So, once again I'll stay up until Katie faithfully comes home at her curfew (not a minute before), waiting for a few minutes of conversation and one more long embrace. Then that's it.

My children have known I'd be like this. They have made fun of me for years at the way I tear up over every little family thing. That's why Katie won't let me say anything in the ceremony. Just walk her down the aisle, hand her over to her groom, and don't make a fool of myself by blubbering. I don't mind. At least they know I love them.

So, I'm ready for the next step. The day after tomorrow, I'll walk alongside my Katie-Bug one last time, helping her to keep her balance, and when it's time to let go, she won't even look back. And I'll say, "Yeah, Katie! Go, Katie, go!" And she and Gregg will fly like the wind!
-ker