Muscles

A friend of mine has a three-year-old son named Nate.

He’s adorable and sweet and funny. He’s also busy and mischievous and, well, a three-year-old boy.

So, my friend has been teaching him about how to use his muscles.

Muscles, she tells him, aren’t meant for hurting and breaking. They’re meant for serving and protecting.

I love that.

I also can’t stop thinking about how often her guidance applies in other ways.

Words, for example, aren’t meant for hurting and breaking. They’re meant for serving and protecting.

Power and influence aren’t meant for hurting and breaking. They’re meant for serving and protecting.

Knowledge, even, isn’t meant for hurting and breaking. It’s meant for serving and protecting.

I don’t know what “muscles” you have.

I do know that you can flex those muscles towards one end or another.

Either to hurt and break.

Or to serve and protect.

How are you using your muscles?

Always Take the Cookies

I’ve had the privilege of spending a good bit of time in the Middle East.

I’ve learned a lot about the people and the culture and, let me tell you, there is no hospitality like Middle Eastern hospitality (and I’ve lived in the South).

I was in Jordan a handful of years ago under the leadership of an incredible guide named Muhanned (yes, I spelled that correctly). We stopped about midway through a long drive from the southern to the northern part of the country.

Muhanned graciously bought our entire group (about sixty people) barazek – Jordanian cookies made primarily of honey and sesame seeds.

I was a couple rows back on the bus. As Muhanned handed out the cookies, the girl in front of me, quite loudly, refused to take one. “Oh gross!” she said. “Are those sesame seeds on cookies? Ummm… no. Pass.”

I saw Muhanned deflate a little. He wanted to serve us. He wanted to give us – literally – a taste of his country.

I’ll be honest. I don’t really love barazek. I’m not a huge fan of honey or sesame seeds.

But I always take the cookies. I always accept the hospitality.

Now, before you think I’m simply being polite in conforming to the cultural norms, that’s not exactly it.

It’s that I don’t really love barazek – and I also don’t really love being served.

I’ve been independent for a long time. I’ve gotten used to doing just about everything for myself. I am terrible at letting people serve me because it challenges my prideful notion that I can do it all on my own.

Taking the cookies reminds me – in a small way – to embrace the love and service of others. It reminds me that there are people that want to serve and care for me. I don’t have to do it all. I’m not supposed to do it all.

I’m called to be hospitable. I’m also called to accept hospitality.

We, as Christians, talk a lot about the humility of serving others – as we should. Jesus came to serve – not to be served.

But we rarely talk about the humility of being served.

Being served takes humility. It means admitting that our time, our resources, our capacity is limited. It means acknowledging that we need one another.

If we can’t accept our need for others, how on earth will we ever accept our need for Jesus?

Serve.

But learn to be served.

Always take the cookies.

The Servant's Seat

In Jesus’ day, guests were seated according to status and rank. The host was responsible for choosing who sat where.

Yesterday, we saw that Jesus placed John in the seat of His right-hand man and Judas in the seat of honor.

Let’s look again at the arrangement:

One of his disciples, whom Jesus loved, was reclining at the table at Jesus' side, so Simon Peter motioned to him to ask Jesus of whom he was speaking. So that disciple, leaning back against Jesus, said to him, “Lord, who is it?” (John 13:23-24, ESV).

Remember, they reclined at the table on their left arm. That meant John had his back to most of the table. So, there are only a couple places Peter could have been sitting to get John’s attention. The most likely option was directly across from John.

In the servant’s seat.

Then they began to argue among themselves about who would be the greatest among them. Jesus told them, “In this world the kings and great men lord it over their people, yet they are called ‘friends of the people.’ But among you it will be different. Those who are the greatest among you should take the lowest rank, and the leader should be like a servant. Who is more important, the one who sits at the table or the one who serves? The one who sits at the table, of course. But not here! For I am among you as one who serves. (Luke 22:24-27, NLT)

Peter was probably the oldest of the disciples, certainly the brashest, and seemed to fancy himself a leader.

I can’t help but wonder if Peter instigated the dispute. I can’t help but wonder if he was irked at his lowly place at the table.

I can’t help but wonder if Jesus locked eyes with Peter when He said, “The leader should be like a servant… I am among you as one who serves.”

I can’t help but wonder if this is the moment that Jesus did the unthinkable.

He got up from the table, took off his robe, wrapped a towel around his waist, and poured water into a basin. Then he began to wash the disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel he had around him. (John 13:4-5, NLT)

This was not Jesus’ responsibility.

It was Peter’s responsibility.

Peter was so offended that Jesus would put him in the servant’s seat that he abdicated his responsibility. He refused to do what Jesus had implicitly asked him to do because he believed himself better than that.

So, Jesus does it.

The God of the universe bends down before Judas and begins to wash mud and manure off the feet that will soon go to the chief priests in betrayal. He comes to Simon and washes dirt and grime off feet that have likely run away after killing a Roman sympathizer in the Zealot cause. He comes to Matthew and gently scrubs feet that have carried exploited taxes from his own people to Rome.

He comes to Peter, who knows that this was his job.

After washing their feet, he put on his robe again and sat down and asked, “Do you understand what I was doing? You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and you are right, because that’s what I am. And since I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done to you. (John 13:12-15, NLT)

I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done for you.

In the kingdom of God, the last is the first. The least is the greatest. The servant is the leader.

No one has the spiritual gift of washing feet. No one is passionate about washing feet. No one aspires to leave a legacy of washing feet.

Yet Jesus washed feet.

And this is the only time He said, “I have given you an example to follow.”

Are you following His example? Are you washing feet? Are you a servant before you are anything else?

S.E.P.s

I don’t read a lot of science fiction, but I love Douglas Adams. If you haven’t read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series, I would highly recommend it. It’s fantastic.

The story begins with a man named Ford Prefect rescuing his friend, Arthur Dent, from a doomed Earth. As it turns out, the Vogons, a rather unpleasant race of aliens, intended to demolish it to make way for an intergalactic bypass. Ford and Arthur are picked up by a spaceship called the Heart of God. They go on to have myriad adventures as they explore the galaxy.

On one such adventure, Ford and Arthur mistakenly go too far back in time and find themselves, once again, on Earth (before it was destroyed) at a cricket match. Arthur is beside himself with joy at being back on his home planet and Ford, who wasn’t actually from the Earth, is behaving quite oddly.

“He was waving his hands in sharp movements across his face, ducking down behind some people, leaping up behind others, then standing still and blinking a lot…

’Something’s on your mind, isn’t it?’ said Arthur.

’I think,’ said Ford… ‘that there’s an S.E.P. over there.’

He pointed. Curiously enough, the direction he pointed in was not the one in which he was looking.”

Arthur inquires as to what, exactly, an S.E.P is.

“’Somebody Else’s Problem,’ said Ford… ‘An S.E.P… is something that we can’t see, or don’t see, or our brain doesn’t let us see, because we think that it’s somebody else’s problem… The brain just edits it out; it’s like a blind spot. If you look at it directly you won’t see it unless you know precisely what it is. Your only hope is to catch it by surprise out of the corner of your eye.’”

The S.E.P. turns out to be a spaceship belonging to a man named Slartibartfast, but, if you want to know who he is and why he landed his spaceship at a cricket match, you’ll just have to get the book and read it for yourself.

It is the concept of an S.E.P. that I find so fascinating.

Ford, at least, understood that his brain was editing out the S.E.P.s and, so, knew to look for them. Arthur, on the other hand, had no clue that there might be more to the world than what his brain was processing.

I’m, too often, more like Arthur than I am Ford.

I’m unaware that I’m unaware. I miss so much that is right before me because I’m not looking for it. I miss opportunities to listen, to serve, to give, to love.

Those opportunities are just "somebody else’s problem."

Here’s the problem with S.E.P.s. If we are all editing them out, then “somebody else’s problem” becomes “nobody’s problem.”

It doesn’t take jumping around and waving our arms and blinking a lot to see our S.E.P.s.

It just takes paying attention to what’s right in front of us.

Let’s pay attention.

Faithful Servants

Yesterday was an important day.

Billy Graham celebrated his first day in Heaven.

Graham was (and now is more than ever) totally devoted to Jesus.

He gave his life to spreading the message that in Jesus – and only in Jesus – we can be forgiven of our sins and enjoy a reconciled relationship with the God of the universe.

The impact Graham had on our world is nearly impossible to overstate. Through his preaching and teaching, God changed the hearts and lives of countless men and women.

He wasn’t a perfect man, by any means. But, he was a man committed to his Savior. When I heard that he had passed away, could almost hear Jesus saying, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Our loss is his gain.

Yesterday was important for another reason, though.

It was a celebration of a different sort.

It was my Mama’s birthday.

Most of the world has never heard her name. She has never preached before millions or written a best-seller or met with international leaders.

But as I thought about the impact that Billy Graham has had on the world, I thought also about the impact she has had on my world.

I’ve watched her begin every day by spending time with Jesus – listening to Him and talking with Him as with her best friend.

I’ve watched her open her home to hundreds of people.

I’ve watched her prepare thousands of meals (and batches of cookies) for family and friends and neighbors and just about anyone else that God allowed to cross her path.

I’ve watched her go through cancer with gratitude for each day and then seek out other women going through that same hell, so she could encourage them and pray for them.

I’ve watched her give generously of herself and whatever else she had to those in need.

I’ve watched her humbly serve without complaining even when those of us she serves fail to serve her in return – or, often, to even thank her.

To have a heart like that.

She teaches me more about the love of Jesus every single day.

She makes me want to know Him more and love Him better every single day.

I’m less like Jesus than I want to be, but more like Him than I would have been without her.

Here’s the point.

There is more than one way to be a good and faithful servant of Jesus.

Billy Graham was faithful to the call God made on his life and, as a result, God used him powerfully. My Mama – Chrissy – has been faithful to the call of God on her life and, as a result, God has used her and is using her powerfully.

We need the Billys. We also need the Chrissys.

I, for one, am grateful for both.

You will be missed, Billy.

Happy Birthday, Mama.